Heard recently:
While transcribing: "He has not been bad hit with ear infections." (Maybe he just had a li'l tee-tiny one?)
While running outside: "Watch out fer snehkes! I just kilt one!!" (This friendly advice was yelled out by a good ol' boy driving an ancient red truck with the winders rolled down.)
Showing posts with label Atmore. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Atmore. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
The Model H
When Mrs. Beth, the parts lady at Smith Tractor, Atmore's John Deere dealer, heard about Owen refusing to ride in the red International tractor, she told Jason to bring that boy in, she had something for him!
Owen has been inundated by the John Deere brand name, thanks to the All About John Deere DVD series, of which he owns #1 and #4. This is a well-produced, slickly-packaged, initially-appealing-to-adults-because-of-the-educational-quality, good-old-fashioned-learn-about-tractor video series that you should only purchase if you have a serious death wish. That's my parental warning. Owen watched his tractor videos all the way up to Indiana and all the way back. And when he got sick a while ago, he watched them over and over for more than a week. That's when I got the John Deere song permanently lodged in my brain, would wake up in the middle of the night to pee, and start singing, "John Deere made a better plow!"
Now he thinks he will die if he doesn't get to watch one at least once a day. It's one of the first things he asks for in the morning, of course following the usual, "Wake up mommy! Beep beep! Beep beep! (alarm clock simulation) Mommy, make oatmeal! Get up, mommy! Pulls covers off Mommy. Mommy, make pancakes!" We trot and/or stumble to the kitchen, and as soon as we pass the living room, "Mommy, tractor video?!!"
When he is granted viewing permission, he finds his John Deere tractor-driver-thingie, and nestles in to watch with great satisfaction.
So Owen's daddy proudly marched him into Smith Tractor, and Mrs. Beth presented him with his pick of toy tractor. Owen's daddy chose the Model H.
Owen has been inundated by the John Deere brand name, thanks to the All About John Deere DVD series, of which he owns #1 and #4. This is a well-produced, slickly-packaged, initially-appealing-to-adults-because-of-the-educational-quality, good-old-fashioned-learn-about-tractor video series that you should only purchase if you have a serious death wish. That's my parental warning. Owen watched his tractor videos all the way up to Indiana and all the way back. And when he got sick a while ago, he watched them over and over for more than a week. That's when I got the John Deere song permanently lodged in my brain, would wake up in the middle of the night to pee, and start singing, "John Deere made a better plow!"
Now he thinks he will die if he doesn't get to watch one at least once a day. It's one of the first things he asks for in the morning, of course following the usual, "Wake up mommy! Beep beep! Beep beep! (alarm clock simulation) Mommy, make oatmeal! Get up, mommy! Pulls covers off Mommy. Mommy, make pancakes!" We trot and/or stumble to the kitchen, and as soon as we pass the living room, "Mommy, tractor video?!!"
When he is granted viewing permission, he finds his John Deere tractor-driver-thingie, and nestles in to watch with great satisfaction.
So Owen's daddy proudly marched him into Smith Tractor, and Mrs. Beth presented him with his pick of toy tractor. Owen's daddy chose the Model H.
Monday, November 26, 2007
What happens in Atmore.....
Check out the Poarch Creek Casino development.
farmers in atmore have joked for years about taking our operating loans to biloxi and "getting it over with." now we can skip the drive to biloxi. cool.
_________________
several months ago, i noticed a bulldozer clearing some land in an area just outside of atmore. a company called "c&s chemicals" purchased the land and planned to manufacture a chemical used to purify municipal water supplies--i think it was aluminum sulfate. the plant would be a steel building (no smokestacks or emissions) set well off the road and piles of aluminum ore outside. the company chose the site because it was next to a railroad line with good rates and, more importantly, was located outside of city limits. escambia county has little or no zoning regulations, so a landowner can do pretty much whatever makes them happy. joyce and i have remodeled two houses and never pulled a permit or had an inspection. this is good. two men recently started a private junkyard next to one of my fields. this is bad. the land the chemical company purchased was in a primarily residential/agricultural area free of zoning requirements, so they can legally build a chemical plant and no one can stop them. this is not to say that no one will try.
there was a town hall meeting and, as often happens at public meetings, the loudest and least informed seemed to dominate the proceedings. the idea of living next to a chemical plant that used sulfuric acid (part of the manufacturing process) was more than some people could handle. community meetings continued on a weekly basis, prayer vigils were held, and homemade signs started popping up along the road near the plant location. the ordinary soon turned to the absurd. "no c&s chemicals" became "are you for US or THEM" and my personal favorite, "sulfuric acid is toxic." correct. so is gasoline, household bleach, cigarette smoke, drain cleaner, chocolate (to your dog), and beer--if you drink too much. i did a double take the morning the coffin showed up.
about a month ago a patient came to my brother-in-law's office and told him that the plant location was chosen for population control purposes. huh?
when too many people who think exactly the same (on any issue) spend too much time together, they tend to become extreme. "i don't want to live next to a chemical plant" turns into conspiracy theories about racism and population control. go figure. why didn't anyone have a problem with the two farm chemical warehouses three miles away or the airplane spraying cotton across the road or the farmers (like me) driving past with pesticides on the back of a pickup?
not much has happened for the past month or two. rumors are that the coalition against c&s wants the poarch band of creeks to purchase the land but i don't know for sure. for now, the signs are still up and the coffin hasn't moved. maybe i should put a plastic santa and some christmas lights on it.
finally, if you are into cars, this is funny. what's not to like about a volvo 740 cut into a pick-up truck?
--Jason
farmers in atmore have joked for years about taking our operating loans to biloxi and "getting it over with." now we can skip the drive to biloxi. cool.
_________________
several months ago, i noticed a bulldozer clearing some land in an area just outside of atmore. a company called "c&s chemicals" purchased the land and planned to manufacture a chemical used to purify municipal water supplies--i think it was aluminum sulfate. the plant would be a steel building (no smokestacks or emissions) set well off the road and piles of aluminum ore outside. the company chose the site because it was next to a railroad line with good rates and, more importantly, was located outside of city limits. escambia county has little or no zoning regulations, so a landowner can do pretty much whatever makes them happy. joyce and i have remodeled two houses and never pulled a permit or had an inspection. this is good. two men recently started a private junkyard next to one of my fields. this is bad. the land the chemical company purchased was in a primarily residential/agricultural area free of zoning requirements, so they can legally build a chemical plant and no one can stop them. this is not to say that no one will try.
there was a town hall meeting and, as often happens at public meetings, the loudest and least informed seemed to dominate the proceedings. the idea of living next to a chemical plant that used sulfuric acid (part of the manufacturing process) was more than some people could handle. community meetings continued on a weekly basis, prayer vigils were held, and homemade signs started popping up along the road near the plant location. the ordinary soon turned to the absurd. "no c&s chemicals" became "are you for US or THEM" and my personal favorite, "sulfuric acid is toxic." correct. so is gasoline, household bleach, cigarette smoke, drain cleaner, chocolate (to your dog), and beer--if you drink too much. i did a double take the morning the coffin showed up.
about a month ago a patient came to my brother-in-law's office and told him that the plant location was chosen for population control purposes. huh?when too many people who think exactly the same (on any issue) spend too much time together, they tend to become extreme. "i don't want to live next to a chemical plant" turns into conspiracy theories about racism and population control. go figure. why didn't anyone have a problem with the two farm chemical warehouses three miles away or the airplane spraying cotton across the road or the farmers (like me) driving past with pesticides on the back of a pickup?
not much has happened for the past month or two. rumors are that the coalition against c&s wants the poarch band of creeks to purchase the land but i don't know for sure. for now, the signs are still up and the coffin hasn't moved. maybe i should put a plastic santa and some christmas lights on it.
finally, if you are into cars, this is funny. what's not to like about a volvo 740 cut into a pick-up truck?
--Jason
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Ratsicles
Yesterday I was running errands in town. I needed more coffee beans, and since Roaster's Gallery was closed, I had to go around the corner to the Community Cup. I parked on a side street to avoid Main. I was carrying all 23+ pounds of Helen, grasping my purse, stowing the keys, and holding Owen's hand. Suddenly, Owen hollered, "Himey!" (Kitty!) Yeesh!! NOT a kitty, but a huge rat, lying dead on a grate right beside the bank building. I said calmly, "No, that's not a kitty," and entreated briskly, "Come, let's go to the coffee shop!"
I was a little suspect. This didn't appear like the average nasty sewer rat, but looked almost like a domesticated rat, if there is such a thing. It had a white body and a brown head. And usually the sidewalks in Atmore are kept clean.
Today I was running errands again, and since I only bought a 1/2 pound of beans yesterday, decided to try again for Joel's shop. The doors were wide open, and he yelled, "Hey, Owen!!" from the back, and promptly came up to offer Owen a coffee bean, which he ate with gusto. I got another 1/2 pound of coffee, my favorite, Monsooned Malabar. I found out that the "strange" woman who kept waving to me at the park on Sunday was none other than his wife Celia--how embarrassing that I didn't recognize her!!
I like the feel of the shop. He has his art hanging all over the walls, several claw-foot tubs he is restoring, a few potted plants, some worn couches and braided rugs. And more often than not, downtown business owners will stop by for a cup of coffee and a chat. Today, Mr. Joe Brantley came in. Helen took one look at him and dove for his arms. He just had that grandpa look and sound.
We were about to go when Joel piped up, "Hey, Owen, wanna see some RATS?!!" He strode over to the fridge, yanked open the freezer compartment and withdrew two gallon-size Ziploc bags stuffed with frozen rats, exactly like the dead one we saw yesterday. Apparently before the pet shop two doors down closed, the owner lost track of some rats. When he cleared out, he left them behind. When they ran out of food, they started running the street. And when Joel sees them, he shoots them with a pellet gun or something else of that nature, and then saves them in his freezer. He rolled his eyes when he recounted how the bank ladies wouldn't even go in their door because of the dead rat. "Tell Jay-Bob I said hi and I miss him," he imparted as I went to the truck.
I drove home shaking my head. Only in Atmore.
I was a little suspect. This didn't appear like the average nasty sewer rat, but looked almost like a domesticated rat, if there is such a thing. It had a white body and a brown head. And usually the sidewalks in Atmore are kept clean.
Today I was running errands again, and since I only bought a 1/2 pound of beans yesterday, decided to try again for Joel's shop. The doors were wide open, and he yelled, "Hey, Owen!!" from the back, and promptly came up to offer Owen a coffee bean, which he ate with gusto. I got another 1/2 pound of coffee, my favorite, Monsooned Malabar. I found out that the "strange" woman who kept waving to me at the park on Sunday was none other than his wife Celia--how embarrassing that I didn't recognize her!!
I like the feel of the shop. He has his art hanging all over the walls, several claw-foot tubs he is restoring, a few potted plants, some worn couches and braided rugs. And more often than not, downtown business owners will stop by for a cup of coffee and a chat. Today, Mr. Joe Brantley came in. Helen took one look at him and dove for his arms. He just had that grandpa look and sound.
We were about to go when Joel piped up, "Hey, Owen, wanna see some RATS?!!" He strode over to the fridge, yanked open the freezer compartment and withdrew two gallon-size Ziploc bags stuffed with frozen rats, exactly like the dead one we saw yesterday. Apparently before the pet shop two doors down closed, the owner lost track of some rats. When he cleared out, he left them behind. When they ran out of food, they started running the street. And when Joel sees them, he shoots them with a pellet gun or something else of that nature, and then saves them in his freezer. He rolled his eyes when he recounted how the bank ladies wouldn't even go in their door because of the dead rat. "Tell Jay-Bob I said hi and I miss him," he imparted as I went to the truck.
I drove home shaking my head. Only in Atmore.
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