So our very first destination on our vacation, which was right after the graduation ended, was to visit a big waterfall. Abby was super excited. Wesley was “Meh.” I was tired. Brandi was tired. Recipe for disaster? Well, the weather was perfect and the sun was not shining. It was lightly showering, but my friends ensured that it never really rains that hard. In hindsight? They were right. It rained a few days, but never so much that it was miserable.
We visited the Snoqualmie Falls park. It had free parking and nice views. It was a little bit of a drive to get to, but not as far as some of our later drives (Port Angeles, Mount Rainier). We traveled to the site with quite the great big convoy. We had our bunch, Mike’s Bunch, and Mindy’s bunch. Now, I know you do not know these people, so I will just assure you, without introductions, that it was a great number of people.
Anyhow, from here on out will be photographs of our visit. Enjoy!
We have returned from almost two weeks of total confusion. A poor ol’ country boy who has spent many a day burning up in the gulf coast spent much of his time being cool without an air conditioner! This was a change for me and my bunch, but the idea of trekking over 2,000 miles to vacation seems to be a tall order.
We chose the way of the bird and four hours later we landed, jet lagged and flustered from screaming demon-children that keep following us around yelling for their mother and father. As fast as we fled, we could not shake them. With that in mind, we made tracks for our destination: Everett, Washington.
The reason for this particular trip was a work from many moons ago as I had discussed attending my niece’s graduation. She would become a graduate of Everett High School (EHS), and I and my family were invited to attend. We took them up on their offer! A tend day visit, no hotel costs and some free gas and food to help with costs. Friday we recovered and Saturday we went to graduation. So, here are a couple of photos to get you started with our experience.
So, you two or three fans of Just Chill Here have probably been wondering to yourselves if I have died or given up on the site. I have not. Work started, football started, the diet restarted, and of course there’s little Abby and big Wesley to ensure that any moment that resembles a little bit of R&R are anything but.
This morning I have decided, in lieu of my weekend morning routine of coffee and Seven Days to Die, I am going to write up a little bit of what I have been doing dietarily since around April/May, and I am going to explain why I think it works.
But instead of starting at the beginning, I want to start at now, particularly last night, but before that, I want to give you an overview of where it began before details. All you need to know is this…
As we entered the last quarter of the school year I was struggling with my diabetes and weight loss. My weight was pretty much locked in at 365 lbs. My blood glucose level was in the lower 200s even with medication. I was a lazy piece of shit. I was miserable. I was a whinin’ bitch on Facebook (still am).
A while before that a friend of mine passed a book to me called The Carb Nite solution. I read it, several times, and never launched. Never really started, until one weekend, and I did the diet for 4 months to some very nice numbers. 328 lbs…and my blood sugar was hanging around at 130. My A1C was 6. My doctor was impressed. I was taken off of one of my medications…I was feeling better than ever.
This is a bit of a “prequel” of sorts. These photos come from my Brother-in-law, Lance Jones, who went in with my dad the Thursday (I think, these dates are getting fuzzy) after the rains that filled Toledo Bend came through. As you look at these photos I want to try to put you into the right mind or mood, and I want you to empathize with the person, my father, as he bore witness to his house taking on more water than it has ever taken in a flood. You are not doing it for my dad, though. You are doing it for the now thousands of people from Burr Ferry, Louisiana to Merryville, Louisiana, and Deweyville, Texas and all the other little towns between. Even I10, a major avenue of commerce, has been shut down because of the flooding. Maybe with this wide array of damage and interruption of day-to-day living and business operations, the Sabine River Authority may have to look into their policies and consider some changes.
Imagine, if you will, that you are sitting in a boat, and you are floating up to your house, and you see all you have worked for slowly being swallowed by water…
And click images to make them larger and more detailed.
It’s been about a week since we had a near record setting amount of rain fall on our region. The rain came from the west and it was predicted a good bit ahead of time. It was predicted that the amount of rain would be great below Toledo Bend (Not a great effect on flooding in my community), over Toledo Bend proper (A threat on my community), and north/west of Toledo Bend, where streams receiving this water would feed the lake, making that part of the storm the largest threat). As The Sabine River Authority stood back and waited until it was too late, we were totally unaware of what was coming. I have shared with you a couple of articles already that explore this event, and this new article is more of the same.
Before I delve into the photoblog that caused a small surge in traffic for Just Chill Here, which my sister so nicely said “I sure hope they don’t click on your other stuff with that potty mouth!” in a very judgmental way, I want to share a set of rumors I have picked up that compliment the answer to a question that we may never know:
Why did the Sabine River Authority wait until the water was upon us to lower the lake?
These rumors are just things I have heard or read, but interesting to ponder regardless:
They have to keep the lake levels high so the bald eagle population has a pristine habitat.
They had to keep the levels high to ensure that several species of rare trees on the lake would stay healthy.
They had to keep the waters high for a big bass tournament that was either going on, or coming up, or one that had just passed. (I am not sure!)
They can’t activate the flood gates unless the lake is a certain height, and it didn’t reach that height until it was too late.
The Sabine River Authority is trying to force people out of their homes and land so they can continue to flood the region as they please.
I can’t substantiate any of these rumors, but I figured I would share with you some of the things I overheard while running into folks in recovery mode.
For all of you getting back into your homes, take plenty of water and try to be safe. It’s hot, it’s muggy, and it’s ideal conditions for bad things to happen.
Let’s get back to our story…
Remember, you can click the images to get the big, prettier versions.
The waters are still high and now Evans, Louisiana is dealing with it’s record flooding. Merryville, Louisiana is getting it as well and towns south of here, such as Deweyville are also going to experience them. The governor is taking flight over the affected area and many people are trying to figure out their next steps. I spoke with some of my uncles, aunts, cousins and friends and they are lost, but they are not stopping. People are helping out at what I believe to be a record rate of participation. In fact, the help has seemingly outpaced the need in some aspects as the hubs of assistance in Evans and Burr Ferry are practically begging for people to come get clothes and food. They need some things like underwear and other necessities, but I visited the Evans Youth Center yesterday and they looked rather flush with supplies. It was a good sight to see.
This article’s title is “A Community In Turmoil?” because the interrogative meaning really lends to the idea – is the community truly in turmoil, or have we come together so tightly, that we have already begun to bounce back?
The hard work is not here yet, but at this rate, we should be able to transition strongly into revival.
As always, click images to get the bigger, more pretty versions.
These last few days have been mired in disappointment and anger as my hometown has experienced the worst flooding it has ever received. Part of this event involved driving a boat up to my parent’s house, the home that my father built himself and completed when I was born. This house is 34 years old and my family and friends have built many memories running around the land my parents essentially transformed from a swamp to a high patch of dry land that was the envy of many people.
Today I saw that die. Today I saw a piece of my dad go. I saw my mother shattered. My sister stayed strong and it was all I could do to console my father as he reassured me that “everything is gone, it’s all gone.” The emotion from seeing this was only strengthened when my mother echoed the very same sentiment. My parents got their clothes and managed to save a few of their vehicles, two boats, and some ATVs. They got a few suits of clothes and my dad’s guns. All of the pictures and sentimental objects were tossed on the bed because that worked in the flood of 1999, where the water was into my childhood home up to around 10-12 inches.
Today we learned that this trick was ineffective. My parents made it out with more than many of those friends and families through Burr Ferry and Evans. Some people were left with the clothes on their back and a bank account. Some of them don’t have a place to stay, so they are getting “discounts” at hotels for the night. This flood has been exponentially more shattering for my hometown than any previous event. Previous floods, hurricanes, tornadoes – everything.
Below is a photo album that I have created to share with Facebook. I chose to use my own web page because I am more comfortable sharing my thoughts with each image, and it gives me a chance to really talk about each photo my way.
The photos you are about to see are more than just photographs. They are a marker of my life. I am approaching middle age and my parents, who are in the dawn of their (forced) retirement, have essentially been dealt a terrible blow. One that has essentially shaken their foundation.
These photos are the evidence of my history coming to a shuddering close. There are no photos anymore. There are no birthday cards my mom saved and no scrapbooks. There are no old baby clothes and baby shoes. There are no wall photos and no more mounted deer heads celebrating my father’s accomplishments as a hunter, nor is there an 11 lbs bass mounted on the wall.
What do we have now?
Click the images for high res versions that look better.
There will be no images in this post. This post will not even be that long. I won’t even swear about ridiculous things and I won’t root out minority groups in badly designed jokes. I won’t go on a political tirade or even try to type out a lecture in some elaborate effort to change the way people think or live. No. Tonight I write a letter to you, the reader of this article, because sometimes we have to cut ourselves away from the silly day-to-day shenanigans and force some perspective into our weary minds.
This is some inspired fiction, based on something that happened a few days ago to a good friend of mine. Tonight, I visited him in the hospital. He’s okay, everything’s fine. But it’s 10:30. I have a ton of work to do and I can’t be bothered to be writing something five people may read.
At the conclusion of every December we celebrate the waning of another annual clusterfuck that did not go as planned at all. In fact, shit went so wrong that we wonder “How am I not dead?”, “How do I still have a job?”, “How am I still married?”, “How are my kids, who are apparently suicidal, still breathing?”, “Oh my god, how am I still a fat fatty!?”, “Can’t be worse next year can it?”
You know the answers to these questions. You know the hows and the whys, but December 31 makes us question our lives at around 10:00 PM every time and we realize we have two hours to make a gameplan. Why? Because January 1 is the ultimate “I will do it tomorrow!” It’s the ultimate starting point. It’s like the ultimate Monday you plan to start dieting or the beginning of a work week where you stop binge drinking and beating your kids.
The first of the year is the starting line for a 100 meter dash, except the track is pebbled with land mines, thumb tacks, crippled hookers and pit bulls. On the side of the track are WWE wrestlers with bats waiting for you to veer off course. The air you breathe is infused with the smell of poop and piss and your shoes are crocs, except the worst kind of crocs, WET CROCS. It also takes 365 days to finish this dash.
Every year that passes by I’m impressed by my friend’s and family’s resolve to not completely shit the bed. Life is a sinking boat and if you aren’t bailing water every day you’re fucked. That’s what we call The Grind. Well, the grind starts over in January, and that every new year is started with the dreaded New Year’s Resolution. No, I am not going to advise you what to make for your new year’s resolutions, I am just going to give you a short list of some decent resolutions and some reasons why you’re going to fail at them.
Where has the time gone? Well, it has gone into a steaming pile of nothing. I have been busy with the whole “being a daddy” gig and being a lazy waste of Cheeto smashing space. With the advent of the 2015-2016 school year I have decided to do right with trying to get on track with my health – the one thing that truly only matters in terms of my prolonged happiness. I use adult language so be warned.