Ephemerality – Page 88 – Tales from Easement Acres

July 12, 2017

You’ll Burn Your Eye Out!

One of the parental killjoys that has stuck with me over the years has been my father’s aversion to sparklers. Liz, however, had a very different childhood experience, so fireworks are less of a novelty to her. Admittedly, I still giggle whenever I set off a bottle rocket. I guess the bar’s been set pretty low.

I will attempt to quote my father’s response to a childhood inquiry regarding purchasing sparklers: “Those things are made of magnesium, which burns at 3000 degrees centigrade! They use magnesium flares to weld underwater! No you can’t have one!”. That may not be a direct quote, but it includes all his points.

So when Liz picked some up for the kid, I thought about this past conversation. A quick Google search reveals that, depending on the composition, they burn upwards of 1600 degrees Celsius–not quite as hot as my father claimed, but I still wouldn’t want to touch the flame.

But, like getting salmonella from raw cookie dough, some experiences are worth the danger risk. Personally, I think it was just an excuse to avoid spending money on something superfluous–a reason that makes far more sense to me now as a father myself. I wonder what goofy thing I say that my own kid will remember forever.

Ah well. For now–fire!

–Simon

July 11, 2017

A Lubbock County Almanac (December 7, 1994)

Leigh recived a diry yesterday and she immeditly started writing in it. So now, today, this morning, I read it. It had a lock latch on it. Unfortunatally for her, she left the keys on it. When she found out she said she was going to hide it. If I ever find it it will be easy to break into because its a simple key. Like this – [Illustration]…It is 7:42 A.M. Central time (our time) I don’t think I wrote to much in Nov. is we had lots of guests over. O my calendar today (Wed.) is “school and bring any canned food,” I don’t have much to say but I’m now starting a new book The Never Ending Tran. Well I gota go. Bye!

———-

Hi! I’m back from school and I had just finnished my home work and I was verry frustrenated about it

J.t. (my friend) called and asked about what page the assinment was on. It was pg. 533 in our math book. Our teacher, Mrs Hines, told me I could do it at break ’cause I have make up work. I was going to watch Full House but it was cancled for an after school special. I will now read from my book, The Return of the Plant That ate dirty Socks. Bye!

–Simon

July 10, 2017

All About the Bass

This is another Wisconsin post.

I’m happy that my daughter, despite her girly-girl side, still enjoys getting her nature on. We’ve fished before, and she’s caught her own, but this is the first time that she’s actively fished for an extended period without regular intervention. And she was quite successful at it, too.

She stopped holding them after one got her with a fin spike

After the first day, the bluegills started swarming the dock, which made the fishing instantly gratifying–something which might have influenced her prolonged interest.

She advised me that she caught so many because since her shirt had a fish on it, all the fish trusted her

However, I was more interested in trying to catch a bass. So after I de-hooked her 100th bluegill, I noticed a smallmouth bass near the shoreline. I pointed it out, and told her what it was. In a jokingly dad moment, I asked if she wanted me to catch it for her, and she agreed, so I took her pole and gently completed a perfect cast just in front of the fish. The bass swam over and immediately took the bait, and I pulled it in. It was a perfect setup that momentarily restored her belief in the magical powers of dad. Here it is:

Feisty fish–you can see him fighting for freedom

Ultimately, I had to concede ownership of the fish though, as I was advised since I used her pole, it was her fish.

But the fishing was not without its casualties. I noticed her reel wasn’t working so well anymore, so I took it apart:

I wonder if Zebco has some military background. I disassembled the reel in the field with just a knife.

Even so, I would say this was a successful fishing trip.

–Simon

July 9, 2017

Baby Toads

When I see an animal, the primitive part of my brain immediately classifies it into one of two categories: threat and not a threat. Once my survival instinct determines I am not in immediate mortal danger, the classifications become a little more diverse, being based on how to interact with the animal instead: avoid, eat, examine, or ignore. After this second classification, the more evolved portion of my brain then begins its own analysis: interesting, gross, scary, indifferent, cute, etc..

And it is in the cute category that I classify these baby toads (encountered during the Wisconsin trip), as they are neither a threat, nor worth eating.

It looks like a standard American toad (Anaxyrus americanus). But I think my cute classification will go unopposed.

–Simon

July 8, 2017

A Lubbock County Almanac (October 30, 1994)

As we left the campsite to go home we stopped at the checkout building to check out. Mom told us to get out of the car, run accross the parking lot and back, so we did that with Kyrie in front (my older sister) of us with me second and Leigh behind (my younger sister). Kyrie and I were about 1/4 back to the other side when Leigh slipped on the lose gravel and fell on her knee and cut it bad. Dad got out the First Aid kit while Kyrie and and I sat beside her and comforted her. Mom taped some wipes on her knee and we went back in the car.

After a long time, we passed a field of grain gently blowing in the breese. There I saw a cotten field and I wached wires go up and down from the poles that supported them.

Soon, we headed down into a canyon and Leigh looked at this and got mad and wrote “Simon is stoopid.” Now she wrote “he is a persen that lise to say shutup.” She is a weird persen.

We just passed throu Cone city and we are going to Ralls soon. Now that we entered Ralls and we stopped at Dairy Queen so Dad and Kyrie could go to the bath room.

After a little while, Kyrie came out with a sprite, we split it and it was gone in about 30 sec. Leigh then wrote with a different color marker.

As I looked out the window, I saw fields of cotten all over the place! Leigh was making stupid noises inside the car.

I was getting tired so I asked leigh to be quiet so I could get some rest. She said she would so I got comfterbal.

I could not get any sleep. Leigh and Kyrie were fighting again. I looked up and we were in Lubbock So I didn’t mind because we were almoast home.

When we were home, I ran out back to see ‘Fuzzy’ my rabbit and Honey Bunny, Leigh’s rabbit. They were fine. Our neighbors took good care of them. I held Hony Bunny an then I put her back in her hutch. Fuzzy was much to big to hold. She was 4 1/2 years old while Honey Bunny was only 9 weeks 4 days exactly!

The Kyrie came in the back yard a hollard at me to help them unload the stuff. So I went to help them unload stuff.

When we finished that I went in the backyard again. I felt the wind. Leigh burst in and tryed to open the two back doors they were hooked! So we waited and Mom opened the door. I went in and made a paper airplain, tied it to a string on a crossbar that holds our swings on the fort. It was a wind detector.

Soon, Mom told me to come in and take a shower, I did.

When I finished, I came in my room and got dressed I new, clean cloths. I read the comics in the newspaper.

When I finished, Dad told me to dry the dishes, I did as I was told and dryed them.

Then Leigh showed me what she wrote on her blank piece of paper. It was stupid!

Then she came in my room and I sent her out! Good!

–Simon