A BANNER YEAR IS COMIN'

One last post for 2007.
Looking forward to 2008.
As Woodsy would say..”2008 is the year, its gonna be a banner year!”
I’ve got a lot of plans for the upcoming year. Plans, no resolutions.
January is gonna be filled with a lot of work, and extra on-call time. A weekend trip to Georgetown/Lexington.Then I’m off to a Men’s Conference at First Baptist Woodstock, Georgia on Feb 1&2. Triple Play
Hope to do a little more fishing and catch my first ever Kentucky Brook Trout.
Plan to take in another Mother’s Day with the Columbus Crew, maybe a trip to the beach in the Summer, Camden Park, pontooning on Grayson Lake, hiking and caving with Carson and being a dad and husband.
I’m open for anything that comes my way!
Bring it on 2008!!!!

I LOVE YOU MORE

Our little running banter around the house is the answer to the " I love you" statement. We all three laugh and return with"I love you more."

Bedtime tonight was a little late due to a full day of music practice/pizza party/rehearsal and live performance of the Christmas musical at church. Only two more to go!, tomorrow morning and evening.

Carson was pretty much worn out today, but performed his first show with the choir like a trooper.

While drifting off to sleep tonight, he was a little restless. Thrashing about, tossing and turning. We had said our prayers, sang a few songs, Mommy read a book and then I laid down beside his bed while he drifted off to sleep.

He had been still about ten minutes and I thought he was sound asleep when he rolled over and said,"I love you Daddy"

"I love you too" I answered.

"I love Mommy too"

"She loves you too, Carson"

"Daddy, I love Jesus"

"Jesus loves you too, Carson"

"Daddy, what would Jesus say?'

"What would Jesus say if you told Him you loved him?

"uh huh"

"He would say, I love you more!"

All I heard was a sleepy drawn out..yeah.

LIVE NATIVITY....KENTUCKY STYLE

We put on our coats this evening and put a few baby carrots in our pockets and drove over to the live Nativity. The Nazarene church at the corner of 29th and Blackburn set up a live display and has for the past few years.
This was our third annual trip and Carson has anticipated it for months, commenting on it every time we pass.
This year was better than last year. It seemed more peaceful and serene; as a Nativity scene ought to be. There was the usual host of participants, all warm and toasty beneath their oversized robes that did a pretty good job of concealing their choice of insulation. However I did detect some Carrhart overalls peeking from underneath one of the shepherd’s cloaks. The donkey was silent as were the sheep and goats.

Last year was a different story….
They have a donkey that is a very fine specimen; his coat is as soft as cashmere and his ears long and fluffy. Carson loves the donkey. Last year we stepped up to the fence and pulled the carrots from our pockets and offered them to the donkey. Just as he started to nibble it from Carson’s fingers, we hear a voice! “I’ll show ya what he really likes” We turn to see one of Catlettsburg’s more colorful characters, in a dirty denim jacket with a Marlboro dangling from his lip. He tells Carson to "put that carrot away and watch this!"
He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and offers one to the donkey, complete with filter. A few in the crowd look on in amazement at this. He proceeds to feed it about three more as we try to politely sneak away. Carson tells Mommy what just happened and we don’t stick around much longer. Kinda hard to explain to a then three year old what just unfolded without having to further explain the word “STUPIDITY”
So we just left it at that.
Carson still remembered throughout the year ‘that man that gave the donkey a cigarette’

This year we did didn’t have to relive that episode. (But we did find out that the donkey belonged to him) Maybe next year the donkey will be sporting a Nicoderm patch on his inner front leg.
Merry Christmas

ICE FISHING IN KENTUCKY

Bummer!
I had a little extra time on my hands this morning and as I spent yesterday at work daydreaming about doing a little trout fishing, I bundled up and gathered up a couple of rods and my small tackle pack from the shed.
Now, I wasn’t going to get to fish for trout this morning as that trip requires a two hour drive to the Red River Gorge. I was merely going two miles to my hotspot pond and drown some minnows for bass and crappie. My pal ‘Woodsy’ has a great fishin’ hole that is full of pole bendin’ action, and is just close enough that I can drop in for a few minutes to a few hours and not have to spend a lot of time on the road.
I scraped two bucks together from the loose change in my cup holder and headed for the bait shop. When I got there the cupboard was bare!( in reality is was a rusty avocado green Kenmore refrigerator) No minnows, no worms! Oh, well, I’ll just go and throw a few spinners and jigs to at least get the fishin’ fever down a few notches. I parked the Jeep, put on my coat, and started up the hollow. The ground was still covered with a blanket of snow and rabbit tracks crisscrossed the open ground as I trudged onward. I climbed the slippery slope of the dam and stood motionless and dejected as I saw the thin covering of ice. It couldn't’t have been more that 1/8” thick but it might as well have been 8’. I didn’t think it had been that cold the past few nights. It was 32 degrees now and getting warmer but I decided not to sit and wait for the Spring thaw.
I returned home, put everything back in the shed, went in the house and baked some cookies.
The cookies didn’t satisfy the fishing fever. Maybe I should have added a few anchovies!
I guess I’ll have to save some money for gas and drive to Wolfe and Menifee counties to the streams that don’t freeze over in the winter. There is a Class I stream I’ve never fished that requires a 1 ½ to 2 mile hike, that harbors native Brook Trout. The stream is said to only average 9” in depth, 12’ max width and in places is completely canopied with rhododendron.

That is my dream for the coming year.
But I’ll still make a few trips to the pond, after ice-out.

MIRACLE ON 34th STREET...well actually the Town Center Mall

He did it!

I got home from work last night and the first thing Carson said was "I wanna go see Santa". We kinda blew him off as we have heard all this before. This time he was persistent and was not backing off. he kept up the begging for almost an hour and we finally gave in when he kept saying" I'm so excited".

So....off to the mall. I parked at the closest entrance to Santa so we wouldn't have to walk very far back to to car when he did his 'about face' and said "I wanna get outta here". To our surprise he was all smiles and held our hands as we exited the car and headed into the mall. As he walked, his cowboy boots kept a cadence, shuffling toward Santa. (he wanted to wear them because Daddy wore them when he had his picture made)

But, Santa had moved and was located all the way down the mall. When we got there the jolly fat man was no where to be seen!, Carson seemed so dejected! The lady photographer said he was on a restroom break and would return shortly.

Long story short, he appeared and Carson immediately stepped up to his knee and the words just flowed. He sat on his lap and talked for at least 15 minutes as no one else was in line. He told him what he wanted and asked about the reindeer and what they liked to eat, what Santa wanted to eat, told about Daddy's little accident when he sat on Santa's lap and even reminisced about Easter. The conversation would have gone on all evening but we had to get back home for bedtime.

If you would have asked me yesterday morning about him sitting on Santa's lap, I would have said"never in a million years", but what do I know?

This has made our Holiday!

Now...for his next trick....'getting within 50' of a Mascot!!'

Merry Christmas

THEODORE GRANT STORIE Sr.

I wrote this about Pop Pop and read it as a euology just over ten years ago.


Your life was so filled with the memories of yesterday that rarely a day went by that you didn’t recall someone or some event in your life that always painted a vivid and colorful picture in my mind. It was as if I was reliving it with you.
From the tales of working the timber and sawmill, from catching a freight train at the age of sixteen; riding it to Kentucky to find work. The stories of toiling long hard days, loading coal deep in the mountainside. To tales of Panama and the Philippines, meeting Granny and the births of Mom, Teddy and Gay, of moving to Catlettsburg to work at the refinery. The story of pulling the turquoise and white ’57 Chevy into the parking lot at work and moments later laughing as the police car with siren screaming disappeared down the road.
The stories of the countless stringers of fish you caught through the years (and they never grew an inch every time you told it). The hunting trips to the places where the rabbits were so plentiful that a Beagle just got in the way. To the woods where the squirrels would make the mistake of riding out the limb of a big white oak, only to hear the roar of your Remington 48 Sportsman.
These were your memories, and I got to relive them and many others with you.
But I also have memories of the days you spent with me, teaching, molding and protecting me.
My memories were filled with the instructions of life. The memories of fishing long hours, of eating a lunch that Granny had packed and then taking a nap in the reclining seats of the Rambler before going back and fishing until dark.
I remember the chilly Spring moonless nights, sitting in the boat behind the hissing Coleman lanterns, waiting for the white bass to take the minnows we offered. (I knew the fish would come as I had seen the pictures of great catches in the past) To walking through the color-splashed woods of Fall, trying to step in your exact footprints so as not to make any sound in the dry leaves.
Memories of cleaning fish into the wee hours of the night on the shores of Lake Erie. (I don’t remember every fish I caught with you but I sure remember every one I cleaned)
To taking you to my secret trout stream in the Red River Gorge where we donned our waders and whipped the fly rods beneath the redbuds and dogwoods, landing the brown trout, which you said weren’t fit to eat, but you never complained about catching.
Every moment spent with you enlightened me in some special way. I came out of every situation a little wiser.
These memories are only mine. I will cherish them always, but I hold only a small piece of the memories of you. Everyone in the family can share what I share, your great grandchildren, grandchildren, children, brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews and your countless friends.
While all the memories I have are special, there is one I will place above all others. It is the most recent and will forever be the dearest and most precious memory of all. The memory of sharing a pew with you in church where we sat and listened to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Our bibles open, reading the truth, drinking in His Word.
You are not gone, for by your repentance, faith and surrender, you have that everlasting eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Memories are fond, but memories are also the past. You have, through your faith, set an example for each of us here to follow. I now look forward to the future, to a time of rejoicing with you and Granny and family before you in God’s Heaven.
Thanks for the love….Grant