My Little Victory Garden: Al Eschbach, Radishes and Beer

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http___www.bigleaguekickball.com_about_ Cheap Soma no prescription next day delivery I’m writing this post with a healthy dose of dirt under my fingernails.  I just came from my garden, having discovered that my newly planted lettuce is now in the sprout stage.  The chard and spinach remain elusive, but I’m hoping another few good weather days will influence them to come up as well.  Today’s work included planting carrots, peas and a multitude of red and yellow onions.  I was thinking about how this would be the first year I abstained from planting white onions when my next door neighbor wanders over and says hello:

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http___www.bigleaguekickball.com_category_press_ buy online pharmacy soma “Hey friend, how ARE you this fine, fine Sunday afternoon?”

http___www.bigleaguekickball.com_category_press_ soma free overnight fedex delivery “Good, now that my onions are planted.  I have reds and whites, but no yellows.”

order Soma WITHOUT SCRIPT “Hmmmmm…I have reds and yellows, but no whites.”

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http___www.bigleaguekickball.com_about_ Buying Soma overnight delivery “Ex-ACT-ly.”

generic Soma next day This Sunday afternoon banter along the retention wall between our two properties is a constitutional tenet.  It’s as much a part of our female connection as the “Hi ho, neighbor!” call is between our husbands.  If we’re outside in the same vicinity, we speak. Or wave. Or nod.  Today we spoke.  But then, came something extra.

online soma fedex next day delivery “I just pulled up the remainder of my winter garden and have too many radishes.  Would you like a few?”

Al Eschbach: Photo retrieved from The Lost Ogle, June 2, 2011 post.

My antennae rose as I thought about the possibilities.  “Sure!” I replied.  Then, “radishes…radishes…radishes…”  My mind quickly whirled while I considered the possibilities.  And then the answer came to me.  In the back of my mind, I’ve always wanted to try Al Eschbach’s favorite food combination.  I surmised that TODAY must be that experimental opportunity.

I did some quick research to find out all the nuances I could about Eschabach’s food love and discovered a few things:

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Hypnotique

How strong is the power of the Western Sky? Powerful enough to make my eyes check all the mirrors, then my speed, then the shoulder…until they find a safe place.  A place where I can let go of my responsibilities as a driver, and accept the freedom of Sun Worship once again.

Worshiping a God who gives me this image upon which to gaze is the only choice my psyche has; it is hypnotic-esque. The horizon woos my spirit into a slumber by showing me the soft grey blanket of cloudy mist she is slipping over the End of the Day. She tugs at the blanket, creating fingers stretched so that they almost touch together the top and bottom of my view.

“I’m tucking in the Day,” she whispers.  “Are you safe?  Nice and tight in within the loving force of the Life you lived today?  Are you ready to bid my Sun farewell and welcome Twilight?”

It’s not really a series of questions from the Horizon to me as it is the Final Call.  “Last round of the daylight, soak it in while you can!”

The Horizon’s voice is gentle, soothing, reassuring.

Hypnotic.

Grateful once again…no, grateful forever…I breathed out the last breaths of day, and inhaled the first breaths of twilight.  Then I got back into my car and drove home through the twilights mists until I reached my driveway.  By the time my tires turned toward the house, Twilight was in full force and the Horizon was sleeping.  Dreaming.  Dreaming as she rotated around Mother Earth until she met Oklahoma once again on Sunday morning.

[kelly]

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Big Little Words

It’s been over 45 years since Mom gave her first haircut in Caldwell’s Barber Shop. And though so many years have passed, she will tell you exactly who her first customer was and what he said. Mom was a nervous twenty-nine year old and had just graduated from the Lawton Barber School. Dad needed help, especially on Friday afternoons and all day Saturdays.

Mom is quick to remind anyone asking, not hair-stylist, not hair-dresser turned hair-cutter; Mom didn’t take short cuts with clipper attachments and she used a straight razor around the ears. It was in a barber shop after all, not a salon. (You go to a barber shop to get a flat-top or tapered clipper cut; you go to a salon to get highlights and over priced scissor cut. I think much more highly of the barbershop, but I am biased, I’m the son of barbers.)

I like the smell of a real barber shop. Give me some Jeris hair tonic and I’m home again.

The barber shop is the ultimate man cave (though I read recently that “man cave” is passé). My point is, it’s a man’s world inside an old fashioned barber shop. My Mom handled herself quite nicely inside the mancave, she learned to trade barbs with the guys and not to take the smart alecks too seriously. When a fella made a crack about the lady barber, she could crack right back. Continue reading Big Little Words

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On the Horizon: Temporary Ag Labor is NOT stealing U.S. Jobs

I heard a lady complain the other day on a website to President Obama about how her husband couldn’t find work but that we were providing employment to people from outside the United States and that it was unfair. It is true about hiring foreign labor but what she didn’t realize or point out is this: the employment is for agriculture work. It’s usually backbreaking and in areas where agriculture is. It’s also seasonal which means it’s not permanent. And it’s only given to foreign workers when no one else will do the work. It’s called H-2A. Contact this immigration law firm that specializes in EB1 and other types of visas if you are an immigrant who wants to work in the US. Consult with experts if you need help with your golden visa application to Portugal.

An H-2A visa allows a foreign national entry into the U.S. for temporary or seasonal agricultural work. There are several requirements of the employer in regards to this visa. The H-2A temporary agricultural program establishes a means for agricultural employers who anticipate a shortage of domestic workers to bring nonimmigrant foreign workers to the U.S. to perform agricultural labor or services of a temporary or seasonal nature. Currently in the United States there are about 30,000 temporary agricultural workers under this visa program. All of these workers are supposed to be covered by U.S. wage laws, workers’ compensation and other standards.

Employers anticipating a shortage of agricultural workers and in need must apply at least 45 days before certification is necessary. This includes a requirement of an active effort, including newspaper and radio advertising, to recruit U.S. workers in areas of expected labor supply. Such recruitment must be at least equivalent to that conducted by non-H-2A agricultural employers in the same or similar crops and area. The employer must agree to give preference and engage in active recruitment of U.S. workers. The H-2A certification is valid for up to 364 days. As temporary or seasonal agricultural employment, the work is performed during certain seasons of the year or for a limited time period of less than one year when the employer can show that the need for the foreign worker is truly temporary. Clear guidance like this provides clarity in the face of job disruption, helping employers and workers navigate changes smoothly.

I don’t think the woman’s husband would really have applied for any of these jobs especially since he probably would have had to relocate and it wouldn’t be a professional job. And that’s the problem, U.S. citizens evidently think they are too good to work on a farm. It’s very hard work and most of us prefer cushier jobs indoors where we won’t perspire or break a nail. But we don’t have a problem complaining that these foreign workers are “stealing” U.S. jobs. WRONG! As we’ll see in this week’s video blog, they are leaving their loved ones thousands of miles away and taking the jobs that no one is applying for and then sending their hard earned money back home to their families AND they go back home when the work is done…they don’t stay but they might return the next growing season to do a job that most U.S. citizens just won’t do.

Alisa Hines

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Do People Make Mistakes or Do Mistakes Make People?

“He’s such a jerk. He had a new girlfriend within a month of breaking up with my friend.”

“OMG. Clearly she has no morals.”

“I can’t believe someone would throw a fit like that. She’s crazy!”

Admit it. You’ve made a similar statement at some point in your life, perhaps even recently. I don’t have to look too far back in my own memory to stumble upon a few similarly disparaging comments. In making these statements, I felt justified in my conclusions about someone’s character based on their actions. Sadly, we often find a certain satisfaction – consciously or subconsciously – in pointing out, reveling in, or discussing others’ mistakes or offenses. If this was not the case, we would not have so many disreputable periodicals available for our perusal in the check-out line at the grocery store.

My question is this: How often do you define others by their worst behavior?  I know I’ve done it and I’m certain it’s been done to me. Should we chalk it up to human nature and move on, or should we change the way we respond?

On a blog I follow, MckMama recently explored the issue of defining others by their worst behavior. In the midst of personal pain that society would say easily warrants a hurled insult or twenty, she made a decision to abstain from defining her wrongdoer by his recent hurtful behavior. In her case, the wrongdoer is her husband who abruptly left the family a month ago (mom and 5 kids) and hasn’t spoken to any of them since. She is angry and heartbroken, and she desperately wants to lash out at him and about him. She has thousands of virtual friends who wouldn’t at all blame her , as well as the perfect medium to try him for his crimes. No one can argue that leaving the family was an honorable thing to do. However, MckMama has decided that her pain is no worse than his, even though she doesn’t fully understand the source of the pain or the reason behind these actions. She believes it is her responsibility to preserve her husband’s honor and character during this difficult time, certainly until they can put aside the hurt and get to the bottom of their issues. While he appears to be acting irresponsibly, he is also the same man she married and deserves more than being labeled, judged, and hated.

My own husband recently learned what it’s like to be defined by behavior he doesn’t even remember. Continue reading Do People Make Mistakes or Do Mistakes Make People?

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