13 Yellow Jacket Bees!

My brother and I had several more encounters with bees. Once we were digging for worms so we could go fishing. We were at Clear Lake, California and found a small creek that fed into the lake. We were alarmed when our shovel hit a Yellow Jacket nest. Out charged the angry yellow jackets and away Richard and I ran.

Yellow Jackets were swarming all around us and Richard was stung. I headed for the cabin we were staying in; with my brother right behind me. About half way to the cabin, I saw a barbed wire fence! The thought raced through my mind that we would have to slow down to crawl through the fence and the angry Yellow Jackets would have no trouble catching up with us.

Just then a wonderful idea came into my mind and I stopped dead in my tracks; took two quick steps and hid behind one of the big trees that we were running through. I stood perfectly still, but yelled at my brother, "Hide behind a tree!" Evidently my brother did not have the same inspiration that I had and ran right by me to the fence. All of the Yellow Jackets followed him. I guess they like moving targets. He was stung 3 or 4 times as he climbed through the fence and a couple of more times between there and the cabin. Of course he was screeming all the way. It was kind of funny and I laughed, but not where mom could hear me.

This same experience happened a couple of other times in our lives. Richard always ran and got stung and I always stood still or ducked behind a bush or tree. The bees or Yellow Jackets always followed Richard.

Lesson Learned

I'm not sure what ones learns from this experience other than sometimes when danger is around it is best to stand behind the protection of a tree and not move. Then again, maybe it means that we ought to go through life with our brother near by. Richard and I had a lot of fun together; except when ther were bees around.

12 BEE - ATTITUDES

Bees are very loyal and extremely hard working creatures. They are so conscientious that they get very upset when they are disturburbed in their work. Maybe it is because they have to visit from 50 to 600 ordinary flowers to fill up their honey sacs before returning to the hive. Whatever the reason, I learned at an early age to not bother a bee or a hive.

Once when I was very young, I was living in a foster home near Redding, California. Mrs Griffy, my foster mom, was trying to get me to not put my mouth over the water faucets when I got a drink outside; something about germs. I ran a lot and got real hot and thirsty. Putting my mouth over the water faucets when I got a drink and then turning it on, kept the water off my shoes and also from running down my neck.

One evening I was having an especially good time riding my stick horse, Tigger, around the house and yard. As we rounded the corner my eye caught sight of the water faucet. I pulled Trigger to a halt, dropped to my knees and put my mouth over the faucet. In one sweepting motion I immediately turned on the water. To my horror I felt something squirmy like squirt into my mouth and I heard a very muffled buzzing sound.

Even a six year old can figure out when there is trouble in his mouth. No sooner had that first burst of water gushed into my mouth sending a bee into a dark wet hole, when out came the water with an even greater force. Also, out came the bee gasping for air and very wet and mad. Fortunately the bee was stunned and I was terrified. Before the bee could recover, I was on my horse and around the corner and into the house. I remained there for about a half hour before venturing outside again.

LESSON LEARNED

From that day to this I have never put my

mouth over any kind of faucet or hose or fountain.

It is amazing what a good teacher experience is.

I also learned that maybe grown ups know

what they are talking about after all.

11 WHY FROGS DON'T SMOKE

One day my brother and I learned a great lesson from a frog. While living on the goat ranch, we had learned that the best way to catch a frog was to sneak up on it with a fishing pole in hand. As a frog sat on the bank of the stream or on a pond lilly, we would dangle a baited hook back and forth in front of it's nose. Frogs do have noses you know. The frog, thinking this was a tasty meal flying by, would leap out and snag the bait. In a split second it was hooked and we would reel in our catch.

Our mother would cook the legs of the big frogs for dinner if we would bring 5 or 6 frogs back to camp. For some reason the frog legs would hop around the frying pan as they were being cooked. At first, we thought that they were still alive and mom and Aunt Edna would tease us a lot about the "jumping frog legs." Later we learned that it had something to do with muscle contractions. Actually frog legs are kind of tasty, especially when one is really hungry.

Well, one day we went out to catch our supper. We didn't have much success for some reason. However, after several hours of trying, we snagged a huge frog. I suppose that when the frog was stretched out it probably measured a good 12-14 inches from head to toe. We took the frog back to camp in an old gunny sack. It hopped and kicked all the way.

Since one frog was not enough to make a meal, Richard and I decided to try an experiement. We snitched a cigarette from Uncle Curly's coat pocket. We then took the frog out of the sack and sat it on the fender of our old car. The adults were over at the other side of the camp visiting under the shade of a large oak tree. They could not see what we were up to.
The frog was very tired and just eyed us with a suspicious look. It didn't try to jump away. We held it and lit the cigarette and put it into the frog's mouth. We stood back to see what would happen. We thought the frog would spit the cigarette out, but I guess frogs can't spit. The frog just sat there with the cigarette sticking out of it's mouth. It looked really funny and we began to giggle and laugh. Then the frog took a deep inhale of smoke. We thought that it would let it out and maybe blow some smoke rings like Uncle Curly did, but it didn't. In a few seconds it sucked in another big gulp of smoke and then another and then another. As we watched in amazement, the frog began to puff up and soon looked like an odd shaped balloon.

We were laughing our heads off, not knowing what was going to happen next. Suddenly, the frog let all of the smoke out at once in a loud, strange, squawking explusion of air. It's eyes rolled around several times and then it flopped over on it's back; shook and died right before our eyes. My brother and I stopped laughing. We poked the poor frog with a stick to make sure that it was really dead; it was. Sure enough that old frog had really croaked! We stood there for a few moments staring at the frog. Richard broke the silence with a soft, "Wow."

Then we leaped into action! We grabbed the dead frog and the cigarette and buried them both on the other side of the camp before the adults found out what we had done. We knew that they would probably be hopping mad if they found out what we had done. We were really scared and didn't tell them until years later.

LESSON LEARNED

I'm not sure about my brother, but I decided on that very day that I would never smoke. Every time I was offered a smoke in the years that followed, I could see in my mind's eye a distant memory of that poor frog, puffing up, rolling it's eyes and dying dead away in front of two startled boys. It was easy to smile and to say, "No thanks, I don't smoke." Thanks to that old California frog, I have never smoked during my life time. I still feel sorry for the frog that gave it's life to teach two young boys an important lesson of life. I might also add that my brother has never smoked either and has lived a clean wonderful life.

SMOKING CAN BE DANGEROUS TO YOUR HEALTH!

10 THE UPSET CRAWDAD

While living on the goat ranch, north of Willits, California, my brother, Richard and I had a lot of time to do some exploring. We were camped right next to the goat corrals and barn. We were at the edge of a beautiful meadow; nestled between tree covered mountains.

There was a small stream that meandered along one side of the meadow. This stream provided Richard and I with many summer days of creative play and adventure. Life as a child would not be the same without sticks, dirt and water.

The stream was the home of hundreds of frogs, bugs, snakes and other creatures. One day we were trying to scare some frogs out from under a bank of earth that protruded out into the stream. Richard kneeled down and reached into the water and back under the protruding bank.

Suddenly, he let out a bone chilling scream that scared me half to death. I looked over just in time to see him jerk his hand out of the water. Firmly attached to his finger was a large crawdad. My first thought was that he had been stung by a monster scorpion. I'm not sure what thoughts were flashing through my brother's mind, but as he screamed and violently shook his hand , the crawdad let go and sailed back into the safety of the water.

I think we both realized at the same instant that the creature was not a deadly scorpion, but an almost harmless crawdad. In a moment of quick relief, we both burst out laughing. However, we never again stuck our hands down and under where we couldn't see what was there. I don't know why, but we never told our parents about these kind of experiences.

LESSON LEARNED

Life is kind of like that too.

Sometimes we must be careful not to invade someone else's space.

9 A DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE

I was blessed with one of the best brothers in the world. Richard has always been a cheerful, humble, sweet personality. I have learned many great lessons from him. When I was in the 5th grade and my brother was in the 2nd grade, our family moved from Marysville, California to a small town along Highway 101. The town was named Willits.

Our parents had packed all of our earthly belongings into one of those square back Ford cars. I think it was a 1936 model. Our only mattress was laid out behind the front seat of the car over the top of everything that we owned. My sister, Marilyn, and my brother Richard and I had just enough room to lay on top of the mattress with our heads against the roof of the car. When the car bounced a little we could see some of the passing country side.

It was a fun and big adventure for the children, but I'm not sure about Mom and Dad. We had very little money, a little food, but no job and no place to live.

Our aunt and uncle came along in a small car of their own. My step father and my uncle Curley had heard that they could get work in Willits. So with great faith and hope we had made the move.

We ended up north of Willits and got permission from a goat rancher to
camp on his ranch for a couple of months; free of charge. We set up camp right next to his goat corrals. The smell was horrible, but we got used to it. Well...I don't think mom ever did, but my brother and I did. For my brother and I, it was just another great adventure. We tried to learn goat language, but never could figure out what the goats were saying to us. Well, in this setting, I will tell you about one of the great lessons that I learned while living among the goats.

One day Richard and I were playing "cars" along the side of the dirt road that was in front of our camp. There was a dirt bank and we had spent hours carving roads, making bridges, etc. We had 3 or 4 small blocks of wood that we were using for cars.

Suddenly, two men drove up in a car. The driver rolled down the window and asked, "Do you boys know where the Brown's live?" I responded, "There are some people who live on down the road, but we don't know their names."

"How far is it to their place?" asked the man. I was about to tell him that I thought it was about a mile, when the very knowledgeable and confident voice of my brother answered. "Oh, its about four quarters of a mile down the road." The men glanced at each other with smirky smiles and I thought, "That's a dumb answer. Why doesn't he just say it's a mile; not four quarters of a mile?"

Before I could say anything else, the men thanked us and drove on down the road. I was about to say something to Richard when I saw the smile on his face and the light in his 2nd grade eyes. Then I thought, "What difference does it make? He's right too. It's just another way of looking at it."

I didn't say anything. We went back to our play and I was happy to have a brother who was enjoying life.

LESSON LEARNED

The experience with my brother has helped me throughout my life to realize that there are different ways to look at things. Most of the time one way is just as good as the other.

8 Chickens Can't Swim

I spent many summers on Uncle Herb's farm in Marysville, California. He had pigs, cows, rabbits, chickens and so forth. I used to play day after day among the animals. My Uncle also had ten acres of prune trees, which he irrigated quite often. During, and sometimes after, irrigating there would be large puddles of standing water. I had watched the ducks thoroughly enjoy these puddles.

One day as I was watching them, I noticed a fairly young chicken standing by the water looking at the ducks. Wanting to help the chicken have some fun too, I picked it up and threw it into a large puddle.

Frantically it fought its way back to the shore. I picked it up and again threw it back into the water. Again it made its way to dry ground. It was wet, exhausted and I think angry. After four or five times of being thrown into the water the chicken drowned. I waded in and picked it up. I was afraid now at what Uncle Herb would do to me. The chicken was dead! So I put it's head under its wing like Uncle Herb had shown me to do one time and swung the chicken back and forth several times. I then laid the chicken on the ground. This process usually puts a chicken to sleep for a minute or two. So, I reasoned that Uncle Herb would find the chicken and think that it had gone to sleep and died!

I ran off to play with some other animals and did not return to the chicken by the pond for an hour or so. Finally my curiousity got the best of me and I returned to find the chicken gone! I thought that Uncle Herb must have found it and thrown it into the garbage. However, much to my surprise, I saw the chicken a few minutes later in the barnyard. It appeared to be all right, but when it saw me it ran and hid among some other chickens.

LESSON LEARNED

I decided that it is best not to try and change what God has placed in nature. Let a duck be a duck and a chicken be a chicken and a person be who he or she needs to be. We should enjoy each creation of God in the sphere in which He has placed it.

7 STAND UP AND BE COUNTED!

When we lived in Old Shasta, California there was a bully named Billy, who moved in across the dirt road from us. For some unknown reason he liked to pick on everyone, especially me. Once he swung his metal lunch bucket at me and hit me in the forehead. I received a nice cut that bled freely for several minutes.

One day on the way home from school, Billy was his usual obnoxious self, and feeling his oats. He approached me and announced, "I'm tougher than you are!" I shrugged my shoulders and said, "Okay." I then continued to walk towards home. Billy ran after me and said, "I can beat you up. Watch!" He then slugged me in the jaw. I did not want to fight so continued to walk towards home. Billy ran after me and again slugged me in the jaw. This continued most of the way home with Billy bragging and slugging, and me hurting and counting.
Finally, about 30 yards from our home and after 26 hits on the jaw, I lost my temper! By this time about 15 neighborhood kids had gathered around, including my sister, Marilyn. Now Marilyn was four years older than I was and kind of a mother figure. At least she bossed me around alot. She enthusiastically encouraged me to, "Teach ole Billy a lesson!"

Being the obedient brother that I am, I waded into Billy and we began to slug it out. Billy would come at me with his head down, swinging both hands like windmills. Since I was a little taller than Billy, when I stood up tall and I had a little longer arms, it only seemed natural in my defense to do what I did next. I reached over Billy's bent over body and grabbed his T-shirt and pulled it up over his head. Then I began to hit him back while he was trying to uncover his head. This routine happened several times amidst the cheers and hollering of the neighborhood crowd. Billy kept calling me a "no good yellow-bellied coward!"

When the dust cleared I had a bloody nose and a black eye. Billy on the other hand, had a bloody nose and two black eyes. My sister immediately stepped forward and declared her brother the undisputed champion and began to lead me home. I was so angry that I wanted to keep fighting and to really teach Billy a lesson. My sister kept pulling me away, so in frustration, I laid down on the ground and refused to go any further.

Marilyn grabbed my arm and drug me home; announcing to everyone that the boy she was dragging home was as tough as nails and the champ of the neighborhood. My mother was in shock when she saw my bloody face. Marilyn quickly gave a blow by blow account of how her brother had taught the bully, Billy a lesson that he would never forget! Much to my surprise I did not get a spanking for fighting and better yet, Billy never bothered me again.

LESSON LEARNED
Please do not misunderstand. I am not suggesting that we fight our way through life. I'm all for turning the other cheek, or jaw, and avoiding confrontations. Most of the time we just need to "walk on home." However, there are times when it is best to stand up for ourselves and be counted; to stand up for our families, our religion and our country and for what is right and decent in this world. And . . . it doesn't hurt to have a Marilyn around to back you up once in awhile.