Lisa, it's your birthday. Happy Birthday Lisa!

If any of you have seen the Simpsons 3rd Season episode "Stark Raving Dad", then you are familiar with the Lisa Birthday Song. Today is the day to sing it. My baby sister Lisa is 28 years old today. As the song goes:

"Lisa, it's your birthday. God bless you this day. You gave me the gift of a little sister, and I'm proud of you today.

Lisa, it's your birthday. Happy birthday, Lisa. Lisa, it's your birthday. Happy birthday, Lisa.

I wish you love and good will. I wish you peace and joy. I wish you better than your heart desires. And your first kiss from a boy.

Lisa, it's your birthday. Happy birthday, Lisa. Lisa, it's your birthday. Happy birthday, Lisa."

Happy Birthday Sis.

Bolshoy Waste of Time

So, I am about 5 hours south of home now in Cedar City, Utah. I have been here for the past 2 days. I am here for work to monitor the effects of oil and gas exploration seismic work on the endangered Utah Prairie Dog. Sounds reasonable enough, eh?

The deal is, the "dogs" have a buffer around their colonies that will prevent seismic exploration anywhere near them. Furthermore, they are currently underground, hibernating for the winter and the amount of energy put out by the machines isn't even enough to make dirt fall in from their tunnel walls. That's good.

So, the problem is, we've (yes, two biologists are required to do this, including one of us with an underground tunnel camera), only monitored one site (a total of 15 minutes) in the two days we've been here. Furthermore, we won't get to do it at all today either (like yesterday), so tomorrow morning, we will monitor one more site and then get to go home--until next week when we are needed again. Aaaaarrrrrrgggghhhh.

Guess I'll break out some more Star Trek dvds and enjoy myself some more.

Chesno Mom

Yesterday was the 64th anniversaryof the birth of my mother. Unfortunately, she is no longer with us to celebrate the day.

Last week I began watching her funeral I have on video tape--only the second time I have done so in ten and-a-half years. I got through about half of my brother David's eulogy and had to turn it off. I'll try again later.

We love you and miss you mom. Happy Birthday.

The Fruit of a Cold Day

So, yesterday was cold. The first real cold day we've had so far this year. Consequently, the night before, A Christmas Story was shown on TV. Someone on the bus had the idea that it would be a good idea to tell my 5-year-old son of the good idea it is to stick your tongue to a frozen pole.

I got a call at work at about 9am. The boy needed picking up.

When I showed up, he was crying hysterically. His mouth was full of blood and his tongue looked bruised, except for the tip which looked like a chunk was out of it.

We went to the doctor. The same one we've been to for stiches, stiches removal, ear infection, and now this--all in the past 5 weeks or so. I think they are dedicating a new wing to my son early in the new year.

Of course, there was nothing the doc could do except give him some pain reliever, oh, and a pop sickle. Go figure, the boy wanted something else that was freezing cold in his mouth after that experience, and even ate another 3 after we got home.

By the time I went back to work he seemed fine and was eating pizza now that the bleeding had stopped over an hour later. This morning it looked almost as good as new.

Now, if I could just figure out who put him up to it. I have a feeling it was his friend who got spooked and left him there alone stuck to the pole once he got scared. Just like in the movie.

Bad Tooth Fairy, Bad Fairy

So, Sunday night my 5 year old lost his first tooth. He was so excited for the tooth fairy to come to our house for the first time ever. We put his little, first, baby tooth under The Good Fairy--a statue from the 1917(?) World's Fair that was used in my grandmother's, mother's, my, and now our home for the same purpose of safeguarding the children's teeth until the "real" Good Fairy could spirit them away while leaving them a present in exchange.

When he woke up yesterday morning, he ran to the Good Fairy to find she had forgotten to come. My wife scrambled.

"We just moved the Good Fairy yesterday when we were decorating for Christmas didn't we? Perhaps she had a hard time finding it."

I got in on the action. "Also, it was stormy last night. Perhaps she had a hard time getting everywhere. She's probably just a little late."

Our speculations proved true. The Tooth Fairy did come that day--while my boy was at school and while mom was at the store. I knew she didn't forget.

Chesno Good Business

Golden Corral restaurants have been giving out free meals to Veterans on the Monday after Veteran's Day for some time now. Since 2001, they have given away more than 1,230,960 meals. Last year, I partook in my first one. It was busy, but they also sold a meal to my wife and son they otherwise wouldn't have.

I'm not saying everyone should give veterans things for free just to sell to their family who wouldn't have patronized their store otherwise. I really feel that Golden Corral is doing it because they feel it is a good way they can honour vets. As proof of this too, they have raised $1,393,883 for the Disabled American Veterans Organization. This is the type of organization I prefer to patronize--those who give back and support real American values.

So, visit your local Golden Corral and tell them you support and appreciate their efforts to feed and honour veterans. Just, maybe tonight isn't the night to do it--the line will be long and you'll have to wait at the grill behind me.

Chesno Vote

Today is election and at about 7:50am or so I voted. I listened to the advice of my cousin and voted for people, not parties.

Now, at the polls I did not encounter:

1) Lawyers ensuring everything was going as planned.
2) Bribes of underwear, or Top Ramen to get out and vote.
3) Long lines.
4) Incompetent poll workers.
5) Any voter fraud at all.

It was smooth and easy. I hope the rest of the country finds the same. Although, with some already calling voter fraud in the days BEFORE election day, this may even get uglier than it already has.

(Ahmed) Best Halloween Costume Ever . . . Chesno!

Here it is 2006--7 years after The Phantom Menace hit the screen, and last night I saw a child wearing a costume of the amazingly stupid Jar Jar Binks.

I was blown away. Of course, I don't blame the child. I'm sure his parent found it at the local Goodwill for a quarter and told him he was being Jar Jar this Halloween. Oh, and if he didn't stop that crying, it would be next year too.

The child did have some sense though. He had the plastic "face" mask. You know, the kind that was all the rage in the 1950s through 1980s that didn't pull down over your head, but were held on by a thin piece of white elastic around the back of your head. So, instead of actually wearing the mask on his face, he pulled it up on top of his head like a hat. Smart boy.

I made sure I gave him a fun-sized Abba Zaba for his trouble.

For those of you who need the Jar Jar costume, look here, here, and for the deluxe mask, here. The last one is worth looking at just because you get an idea of what the disembodied head of Jar Jar would look like.

Chesno Thanksgiving(?)

Yes, Thanksgiving! The whole world doesn't revolve around the US and it's holidays (but pretty much).

Today is Thanksgiving in Canada. Last year I spent it with my wife and son at the family cottage on the lake in Central Ontario. It was a wonderful time of good eats, fun with family, cutting down trees that would treaten buildings should they come down during winter, hauling in the docks, teasing the beavers, and going on hikes.

Simply wonderful. I hope they are having a great time despite not having my family there this year. I will celebrate nonetheless at home with at least a pumpkin pie. I did make sure to fly "Old Leafy" below "Old Glory" this morning in honour of the holiday.

Babi Yar 65 years later

As someone who was fully-engrossed in Ukrainian culture from my 2 years living there, I would be remiss if I didn't mention that today is the 65th anniversary of the massacre of Babi Yar.

When I lived there in the mid 90s I spoke with a man who remembered seeing the first German tanks drive into Kiev on September 19th, 1941. What he didn't know then was that a terrible massacre of Jewish Ukrainians would take place 10 days later.

On the 28th, a decree was sent around saying:

"All Jews living in the city of Kiev and its vicinity are to report by 8 o'clock on the morning of Monday, September 29, 1941, to the corner of Melnikovsky and Dokhturov Streets (near the cemetery). They are to take with them documents, money, valuables, as well as warm clothes, underwear, etc. Any Jew not carrying out this instruction and who is found elsewhere will be shot. Any civilian entering flats evacuated by Jews and stealing property will be shot."

Most Jews simply thought they would be loaded onto trains and deported for awhile. What really happened was, they were ordered to undress, beaten, had their property stolen, and were led to the edge of Babi Yar gorge and shot. At least 33,771 were killed 65 years ago today and tomorrow. In only 2 days.

There is much more to know about Babi Yar than I wrote and the links here can fill in the blanks. Prepare to be horrified as you read of the clean up effort (towards the bottom of the page and in more detail elsewhere), and escape of the prisoners who had to do the work to cover up what the Nazis did at Babi Yar. Perhaps the best page of links is here.

Thankfully, this is how I knew Babi Yar. Memorial garden with monuments. The Russian word for monument is pommyatnik. The root word is from the verb: to remember. May we all remember what was done at Babi Yar and never let it happen again whether in Europe, the Middle East, Africa, or Heaven-forbid, here in North America.

Stupid Bees

So, I may go and gas the bees after all. Sure, I've been able to steal a boatload of honey from them this year, but when you get stung in the eye, honey seems like no big deal.

It all happened tonight when I went to steal more honey. Things were going alright, but I was getting buzzed quite a bit. I know better than to open up a hive when it is cold, overcast, approaching bedtime, and at this time of year the bees are extra protective of their honey.

They got me, and I learned a lesson. Doesn't mean I'll change the way I do things. Did I really learn anything?

**UPDATE: When I woke this morning the swelling was even worse and my eye was so totally swollen shut you couldn't even see my eye lashes. It is going down now, but the doctor said that he couldn't do anything about it. Hopefully, it doesn't impact my job interview tomorrow, or my drive down to my 2-week Army training.

Chesno Changes

So, today is a watershed day in the Ashton home. Our son is attending his first day of kindergarten as I type.

My wife took him to school this morning, but tomorrow our neighbor, the bus driver, will pick him up, and her grandson (my son's best friend), and he will begin his daily adventure for real on to school.

Life has changed already because of this. Beginning this week I will be attending a 2-week-long Army leadership school. My wife planned on spending a week of time with her family while I was away. We then realized: Turner has school! Wow, that's new!

There is also something psychological about sending your first born (not including the dog), off to school for the first day. I don't feel melancholy per se, but there is just something different there . . .

Brigette Ann Esposito

I'm sorry this is over two weeks late after 9/11. I was on duty with the Army and was unable to complete it while away. I still want to get this up and published though as Project 2,996 is now a permenant tribute to those fallen on September 11, 2001.

Brigette Ann Esposito was age 34 on September 11, 2001. She was killed at World Trade Center where she worked as a consultant at Marsh & McLennan Cos. Inc. World Trade Center, Tower 2, on the 94th floor. She was a resident of New York City, N.Y. (USA).

A memorial guestbook has been set up by those who love her.

There, her neice said of her,

"Its unfair that we all cant hear your laugh again, see your smile, recieve your advice, and just be in your presence."

Another poster said,

"This year I am concentrating on having known Bridget instead of the loss of her, her smile, her laughter, her loving ways, her wise words and strong opinions - we miss talking with you but we are so glad we got to know you."

Her good friend summed up everyone's thoughts with this:

"We all miss you every day. We are so much better having known you."

More loving words for Brigette can be found here and a CNN tribute here.

We won't ever forget. We won't let it happen again, and we will remember your spirit, love for live and family, and determination. Rest in Peace Brigette. Your friends and family love and remember you and will carry on your memory.

Brigette Ann Esposito

Chesno Dad

So, I'm not a new dad (my son is 5), but sometimes I feel like it.

Last weekend we went to Bear Lake and spent plenty of time on the water. My wife asked me to slather my boy up with sunscreen. When I got over to him, he was covered with sand, so what does a dad do? He just mixes all that sand and sunscreen together in a gloopey paste on his boy. Even worse, we realized the next day that I must have been concerned about getting any in his eyes because he had a big, lopsided, retangular sunburn mask across his eyes.

Dad strikes!

The next day was Sunday and I left church early because my brother was coming into town for just a short time. I needed to get some cleaning and food prep done, but I had brought the baby home with me. She was crying and time was getting short. I had her in the baby swing with the pacifier, but she wouldn't be settled. Then I had an idea. I spread a little corn syrup on the pacifier (at least I knew honey wasn't good for babies), and she took it like a charm. She was asleep in less than a minute, then I cleaned off her mouth so she didn't stick to my wife the next time she nursed.

Dad strikes again!

P.S. Honey, sorry you had to hear about this incident this way.

Chesno Purple Finger

I hope this doesn't come across as crude or in bad taste, but . . .

This is totally random. I saw a picture today of the purple-fingered Iraqis and it made me think of my childhood. As my friends and I were preparing to go overseas to serve 2-year missions, we had to get a full physical first. Part of that physical included a prostate exam.

We began renaming the exam: 1) The Jello Finger, or 2) The Goopey Finger. You also usually got "scrogged", but that is for another time.

When I saw the picture today, I thought, 3) The Purple Finger. Do a search for pictures online of purple-fingered Iraqis with this new frame of mind. You will be disturbed.

Chesno VJ

61 years ago (1945) today WWII ended with the surrender of Japan on VJ (Victory over Japan) Day. Have you heard anything about this today? No? Well, why not? This was the end of the biggest, most bloody, terrible war of our time. It signaled the beginning of soldiers using the GI Bill which brought expanded schooling, the suburbanization of America, and social and financial success to the middle class of America.

Do we not celebrate our success and the close of our sacrifices both at home and abroad because it is not PC to celebrate a victory over our now strong ally? I hope that isn't so. In any case, at least one state (and one alone), Rhode Island, celebrates "Victory Day" as a state holiday.

Chesno Maples

I have begun a new blog. I have found that as the year progresses, my yard becomes more productive, and I spend more and more time outside.

My new blog is called: Maple Acres and Spring Creek. Spring Creek is the area where we live and I have planted by hand several hundered maple trees. The name seemed appropriate.

There I will document what is going on in my hobby farm. Last week I had a huge onion, garlic, potato, and shallot harvest. This week I will harvest honey from my bees. There are tons of on-going projects--chicken coop construction, berry and grape trellis construction etc. There will always be something new to see.

Join me at Maple Acres at Spring Creek. I hope you enjoy reading a little bit about the place I love so much.

Chesno Elise

It's about time I write about this. It was 2 weeks ago today we went into the hospital expecting the arrival of our new baby girl.

Elise Madsen Ashton was born on 25 July 2006 at 12:31 am. She weighed 6 lbs. 14 oz. and was 19.5 inches long.

She and mom are doing great. We are loving having her in our family and are so happy.

Chesno Sugar Tits

Since rolling out of my weekend cave on Monday and learning what took place while hiding from the world, I can't get one question out of my head.

"What are you looking at Sugar Tits?"

In case you fell off the Earth, this is what the liquored up, anti-Semitic Mel Gibson asked his female arresting officer when he was found speeding on the PCH with an open bottle of hooch in his car.

Sugar Tits? Really? How did he come up with that? It has intrigued me for days. Clearly Mel doesn't only have issues with Jews, and authority figures, he also seems to have a problem disrespecting women.

Oh, and in case you can't get that question out of your head either, someone has put it and his mug shot on a T-shirt for you to buy. Geez, it's about time.

**UPDATE** I have since been informed by my wife and sister-in-law that the name "sugar tits" isn't something Mel made up on the fly, but something they've both heard before. How has this passed me by when other, more disguisting things have been revealed to me by my Army buddies?

Chesno Freedom! (aka Screw you HOA!)

My three readers will remember from last month when I spoke of the home owner's association Commies I had to deal with in Albuquerque that wouldn't let me put a flag pole up on my property.

Turns out I am not the only one who has had this problem. Evidently, enough people have been placed under the boot of their respective associations that legislation has drafted and passed. All it needs now is the President's signature.

CJ at http://www.soldiersperspective.us gives us the lowdown that:

"The act was conceived by Congressman Roscoe Bartlett, R-MD, in response to the many home-owners associations popping up across the country refusing to allow Americans to fly their flags on their own property.

U.S. House Majority Leader John Boehner (R-OH) said: 'Every American should retain the right to display the American flag, the very symbol of freedom upon which our nation was founded. Rep. Bartlett should be commended for his leadership on this issue and his work to help preserve the core values of this great country.'”

Darn right. It's sad something like this has to be legislated.

Free eBooks? Chenso!

Have you ever heard of the World eBook Fair? I hadn't until today. They are the largest showcase for eBooks and are celebrating the 35th anniversary of the first step taken toward getting eBooks going.

They have 1/3 of a million eBooks, including mp3 audio books, and from July 4th - August 4th, all are entirely free. Normally this service only costs $8.95/year(cheap!), but this celebratory month, they are all free.

They also have a goal to have 1/2 million books by next year, 3/4 million books by summer 2008, and 1 million books by summer 2009.

Take advantage of this great service. I was able to find tons of books I would enjoy in pdf and mp3 formats.

Chesno Lesson

Q: Do you know what happens when you're a cheap bast***?
A: You end up getting a $3 haircut at a beauty school.

And, let me add that I was over charged for that cut.

You also get an optimistic stylist telling you, "See, you came in and left with a whole new look!"

That whole new look must have been pissedoffedness because I also left with a gift certificate for a free haircut.

Q #2: What is worse than a $3 haircut at a beauty school?
A #2: A free one when you didn't learn your lesson the first time.

Chesno Chai (Tea)

So, I'm going through a bit of a Christmas in July phase right now. Jenn can tell you I've been listening to moody Thanksgiving and Christmastime instrumental music (which I am doing right now at my desk).

Furthermore, in 90 degree (F) weather I got a hankerin' for a cup of peppermint tea (must be in Ukrainian you can't take out of me). So, I made up a cup and put in two generous teaspoons of homegrown honey I took from my bees last Thursday. I could nearly live on this . . . so good.

Chesno Coop

Last night I began building my chicken coop so it would be ready in the spring for new baby chicks.

I tend to "over-engineer" things I build, and follow the advice that you shouldn't build something to fit your current needs, but those you may not even forsee for the future. I didn't realize until I staked out on the ground just how big I planned it though.

It is 24'x16'. 16'x16' for the chickens and 8'x16' for ducks and/or geese. Following these numbers, my new coop should be able to hold:

16'x16': 128 large chickens, or 170 laying hens.

and

8'x16': 43 ducks or 21 geese.

Yup, it's kind of big for what I expect a small flock of 12 hens and a pair or two of geese. Guess I'll have lots of room for storage and my beekeeping equipment which is in the same fenced in area.

Chesno Pole

When we lived in New Mexico in a gated community I petitioned the home owner's association to let me put a flag pole in my yard. They questioned:


~ Why?
~ Where?
~ How tall?
~ What colour?
~ What will it be made of?
~ What will you fly from it?
~ Why are we Commies?
etc . . .

After answering all their questions and going through the whole thing, my petition was turned down. At that point it was my mission to never let anyone (but my wife) dictate to me what I could or could not put in my yard or home. It was also when it was firmed up in my mind that I would like to be spaced a bit further from my neighbors than a 10 foot set back.

For Father's Day last Sunday I got my flag pole. I woke up early this morning and cemented in the base and tonight assembled it. Doesn't it look great? Just try telling me I can't have it there.

Chesno Home

I love where I live. I really do. There are no public buildings where I live other than the church. We have no post office, stores, or anything but neighbors and land. It's wonderful

Do you remember the old farmer from Napoleon Dynamite that shot his cow in the face with a shotgun? This morning before work I met a old man like him.

I was out setting my new flagpole in concrete and he pulled up in a truck. He was removing dams from the ditch and we just started talking.

"So, you're the one who bought Earl's place huh," he asked.

"Yup," I responded. "I guess he had to sell out sometime last year," I added, being kind to the memory of Earl.

"Naw, that guy couldn't keep it in his pants. Having an affair here, another with her, another there. I thought I was going to have to come and straighten him out."

That's why I love the place. The people speak their mind. They wave to you as they drive by. They'll drive to the barn at 10pm to get you the tool you stopped by to borrow. I hope it stays just like it is forever.

If you won't help Screech, who will you help?

OK, so I didn't follow protocol and keep "Chesno" in the title of this entry, and that is just how darn strongly I feel about this.

Our favorite Samuel "Screech" Powers is having his house foreclosed on in Wisconsin and he needs our help and I'm here to give it. He needs $250,000 to save his home so he is selling Save the D-Man's Home T-shirts for $15 a pop (plus $6.50 shipping).

Assuming he makes nothing on the shipping cost. He will need to sell 16,667 of these shirts in 40 days to save his home. Won't you help him? He could use it. Chesno.

231? Chesno.

Before the United States, there was the Army.

On June 14th, 1775 the Army was born. It has served the USA since 13 months and 3 days before the Delaration of Indepenance was signed and continues to do so. I am proud to be a member of this 231 year-old, fine organization and serve the people of our country.

Visit the Official Army Birthday Website.
Photo courtesy of the US Army by Staff Sgt. Carmen Burgess.

Chesno D

Today is June 6th, and the 62nd anniversary (1944) of D-Day. That great and terrible day that began the end of the Nazi occupation in Europe.

Today is a day to remember those who fought so we can be here, so in my family, Thank you to:

Great-grandpa Ashton: Died in WWI in the battle of Paschendaele.

Grandpa Eriksson: WWII disabled veteran of amazing feats.

My Father-in-law: Retired Airforce MI officer.

My Brother Jon: Airforce medical officer.

642nd Maintenance Company: My brothers (and sisters)-in-arms in Iraq.

Thank you.

Chesno Buck

This is my cousin, Julie Buck. She's a great gal with tons of talent, kindness, and passion for what she does. And, she's really good at it too.

She needs some help paying for grad school and we all know how expensive that can be. I had to take a 6 year commitment in the Army to pay for it.

So, she has set up a blog to ask for help with grad school expenses. Please help her out. She's a wonderful person who does great work, and all she's asking for is a "buck".

Chesno Traitor?

So, am I a traitor?

My chances of going to Afghanistan with my Army buddies came to a screeching halt on Sunday when I was told that I had to renounce my Canadian citizenship to get the required top secret security clearance to go. I did not renounce it and now I am not going.

That is probably for the best, but I can't help but feel a bit like a traitor when my brothers-at-arms are going off to battle with our newly-allied Afghani friends, and I am staying home because I pledge allegiance to another country.

But, I guess that's something I have to work out on my own.

Chesno Giardia

So, two days ago I was on one of our little "walking" trips as my co-worker likes to call them. He is quite the fit fellow and his favourite activity to do is go walking. So, to him, hiking is like "extreme walking". [I've used too many quotation marks already in this entry. I will try to control myself from now on.]

So, we are out for work surveying, he for plants, I for wildlife. We are on a 7 hour hike in 90+ degree (F) weather that takes us across MANY canyons, up and down, and up and down again and again.

About 4.5 hours or so into this, I run out of water. We were close to a small remote stream fed by snow melting high above us, so I figured if my choices were to hike for another 2.5 hours in that weather without water, or drink from a stream, I would drink. And drink I did. The water was cold and clear. At least on the macroscopic level.

I don't know what was there in the microscopic level. Could there have been a dead deer laying in the stream half mile up? Could a bear doing one of its famous poops in the woods happen to choose the stream as its location? Could I have just ingested giardia?

We'll see. Giardia has a 7-10 incubation period. Come next Tuesday if I am doubled over with terrible diarrhea and stomach pains, the answer will most likely be, "yes". However, I could probably use the time off of work.

Chesno Geek

Those of you who know me know I have many diverse interests. You probably know I am also a geek.

While I was out this week doing something as manly as flying in a helicopter looking for birds of prey, I had to soil the eveningtime with something truly geeky. I went to three different stores in small Richfield, Utah looking for a Star Trek movie. I finally found Nemesis at a local rental store and actually signed up for a membership I will probably never use again just so I could get a Star Trek fix.

Pathetic.

Chesno Chicks

So, last night I got back from two days of flying in the helicopter looking for raptors . . . again. This time we didn't "go down". I have a serious case of tired butt. Pretty sure that is the medical term for it.

Anyway, we were lucky enough to find a peregrine falcon nest, barn owl nest with eggs, see lots of owls, hawks, and falcons, and tons of golden eagle nests. Most were old and inactive but there were two that we found that each had three chicks similar to the picture included here (similar because these are bald eagle chicks not goldies).

All in all it was a pretty good trip, but I am still recovering from my dramamine "trip". I feel like a am going to fall asleep every 15 minutes. Now I know why the package said "Less Drowsy" and NOT "Non Drowsy". At least they were honest. I was "less" drowsy than certain times in Iraq when I went without sleep for 30+ hours.

Chesno Aspiration?

I found out the other day what happened to our helicopter. According to the pilot, the compressor, "aspirated a foreign object".

What does that mean? Well, that the height we were, there is but one choice. A bird was sucked into the engine and we went down.

We'll see if it happens again. I have Take 2 of helicopter fly time on Monday.

Chesno "Coughs?"

The hour after we returned from Boise on Monday I had to leave on a business trip to south-central Utah to do surveys along proposed oil exploration lines. Part of these surveys involved me going in a helicopter to look for birds of prey and their nesting sites. We do this by flying over mountain tops low to the ground where you can see the nests or the birds as they are flushed from the nests by the helicopter.

We took off on Tuesday morning and flew our first line to survey. We flushed one red-tailed hawk and were just about to begin the next line when the helicopter jolted two times with a bad noise.

Having been shot at while flying in helicopters in Iraq, my immediate reaction was that we had been hit. My co-worker looked back and said, "When we get down, get out fast!" I said, "OK", and braced as the pilot brought the bird down fast. He was able to land softly, but I jumped out quickly. That was when I saw the smoke coming out of the engine.

After we got out, my co-worker climbed to the top of a hill to get cell coverage and the pilot got on his phone. I overheard him say, "We felt two coughs."

"Coughs?" I thought. The engine wasn't coughing, it was more like jolts and smoke, but hey, I'm not the professional. Clearly, we were done flying for the trip. We went about our surveys, but now on foot and the pilot towed the helicopter up to Salt Lake for repairs. I'll let you know when I find out if it has the flu, an allergy or was being examined for testicular cancer. Afterall, it only coughed.

Chesno Easter

I haven't written in a little while because my family took a trip to visit my brother in Boise and then I had a business trip to leave on within an hour of returning. We were there for Easter on the 16th and my 31st birthday on the 17th.

My brother and I come from a family of great cooks. That is what we were looking forward to doing during the visit--cooking together. For Easter dinner after church we made a garlic and fresh rosemary-studded pork loin, mashed potatoes, apple gravy, homemade dill and onion bread, and steamed green beans. I am used to cooking for literally an Army, so I think I may have gone overboard. Evidently, three young girls and two small boys don't each eat a pound of potatoes.

For desert Jon made me his own recipe of dense chocolate cake in four layers with alternating almond paste and seedless raspberry jam all topped with mountains of chocolate frosting.

The easter bunny also showed up and delivered all kinds of treats to the kids. By strange coincidence the adults all found out that sour Starburst jelly beans are about the best easter candy ever made and those nasty Peeps and Cadbury Creme Eggs don't hold a candle to the sour beany goodness Starburst created.

Most importantly, Jon and I were able to talk like adult siblings and friends. This doesn't happen too often as when we are together it is usually in a setting where we are trying to hold the family together and create an environment that (somewhat), resembles holidays of our youth. If not for anything else, that part made the trip a success.

Chesno Hiving

I got a disappointing phone call on the 11th. Turns out that because of rain in California, my bees wouldn't be ready on the 22nd. The date was pushed back a week to the 29th, and maybe even until May. However, if I wanted, there were some extra packages (2.5 pounds of bees + queen), available immediately. I wanted.

My wife was kind enough to drive down to Salt Lake City and pick them up and transport approximately 15,000 buzzing bees an hour and a half back home. No doubt it was mildly intimidating, but she got it done.

That night they arrived home too late to hive, so I did it the next day at lunch time. There were thousands of bees flying around, but they all went to their homes just fine.

It's amazing how many people become interested in this hobby when you tell them that is what you're doing. If your not even the slightest bit interested, don't ask a beekeeper about his hobby, he will drone [delicious pun] on about it for an hour.

Chesno Year

Last night my wife and I were laying in bed and she asked me, "Have we reached the year mark of you being home [from Iraq] yet?"

As a matter of fact, we had. To the day. It was one year ago yesterday when I came home.

She asked, "Are you at a place now that you expected you would be one year from returning?"

I can (and did), honestly reply, "I am." It's been a good year. A fast year, but a good year. We have a new house. We have a new baby on the way. We have a good job. And, we have about 25,000 new bees that will be joining our family on the 22nd. Life is good.

Chesno Varenchiki

This last Sunday my wife, son, and I went to a friend's house for dinner. The house we went to was that of some Ukrainian friends of mine that I knew while I lived in Odessa on the Black Sea. It was mostly a chance to catch up on old friends, and laugh about how rusty my Russian is (as I haven't really spoken in 10 years).

More than all that though, it was a chance for me to gorge myself on the wonderful cuisine of Ukraine including borsch, golopsi, tvorog, and most importantly vareniki s'myasom. The food really is wonderful as long as you stay away from the cold meat jello (holodetz), blood sausages, and raw meatless bacon (salo).

We had a great time, stayed more than 6(!) hours, stuffed ourselves, and I began to bring my Russian back. All in all it was a great night. Plus, we were sent home with enough leftovers that I was able to enjoy it all over again yesterday for both lunch and dinner.

Chesno Disappointment

If you'll remember, not long ago I wrote a blog about my grandfather's birthday and how I totally skipped by it. Well, that event inspired me to write the National Personnel Records Center in St. Louis, MO. They are the repository of military records and I wanted my grandpa's.

I filled out the paperwork, and sent it along last month. I didn't expect a response in anything less than six months, but last Saturday when I was doing bee hives the mailman brought me a letter from our folks at the NPRC.

Turns out that in 1973 there was a fire at the repository and many records were affected. It turns out that my grandfather's were included in the burn. They were able to reconstruct a very few details such as his entry and discharge dates, where he was discharged (not 30 mins from my house), and most interesting to me, two medals he was awarded and that he was discharged as a PFC.

I find that incredibly interesting because he told me he was promoted and busted down several times during the war and wasn't on a career fast track or anything. He did tell me also that he was a sergeant in the Army--which is my current rank. Sergeant is two ranks higher than PFC. Wonder what he did to get busted down two ranks . . . Guess I'll never know.

Chesno Hives

I waited and waited because I knew my father-in-law wanted to come up and help me with it, so I held back. This weekend I was finally able to build my bee hives. I have been so excited, I'm surprised I was able to wait.

My in-laws came up to College Ward bearing gifts--a new oak bunk bed for my son that my father-in-law hand crafted. It really is beautiful and quite the gift. They also brought up a kite for my boy and candy. Quite the visit. But, the coolest part was Saturday when the weather was beautiful. We were able to assemble ten boxes and ten frames for each. We even got them stained.

Well, my father-in-law stained them as I sanded them. That's him in one of my old desert camo blouses and plastic skirt to stay clean. Now the waiting game begins. The bees don't arrive until April 22nd. So, very, long . . .

Chesno "Engrish"

My cousin featured this fun little english language analyzer on his blog so I thought I'd try it. My results are:

Chesno Slova Linguistic Profile:

70% General American English

20% Upper Midwestern

10% Yankee

0% Dixie

0% Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

Funny there is no Dixie speak in there. Wonder how "Ponch's" would turn out. He lived in 'Bama for two years and then married a girl (Poncha) from there. Those "y'all's" just roll off of his tongue.

Give it a try.

"Officially" Chesno

It’s official. Spring is here. It doesn’t feel like it too much and my land is soaked, but it is here . . . “officially” at least.

I don’t really like that whole “officially” thing. Either something is here or it isn’t. It is done or it isn’t. It is dead or it isn’t. What is the deal with someone being officially blind, but still able to drive a car? Do they need an “official driver’s license”? How come sports teams and Disney need to “officially” license their merchandise? Isn’t it good enough to license it? Doesn’t licensing something imply that it was done officially? Are there other levels of licensing such as:

1. Cheap, Asian-made (redundant, I know) bootlegged licensing.
2. NY street-corner American bootlegged licensing.
3. Corporate back-alley, non-official licensing.
4. Official licensing.

In any case, in Northern Utah, spring is officially here in the same sense that Brokeback Mountain was officially a box office success ($82M in 15 weeks ain't no success). I just don’t believe either . So, in the meantime, I have raspberries, blueberries, cranberries, boysenberries, gooseberries, currants, grapes, and more waiting inside by the window to go out, much like my dog when he thinks he sees the slightest movement outdoors.

So, last night I said, “The heck with it.” Well, not really. Who says that? I bought an indoor seed germinator and as a family we sat down to a fun night of planting gourds, white pumpkins, small pumpkins, butternut squash, acorn squash, sunflowers, cantaloupe, and cabbage. I guess you can say I “officially” planted my garden . . . indoors.

Chesno Nicknames

You got a nickname? I got like fiddy (50) of 'em. So does my friend Eric "Ponch" Buchanan. Of course Ponch is one of his and also the one used most. Otherwise we would be calling him Eric "ACE" Buchanan, and not Ace as in the "Ace of Base" or something. "Ace" as in A.C.E. as in I don't know. Often times in the closing credits of a movie you'll see a name Jauness Wagner, A.C.E. That kind of "ace". Ponch thought it was pretty cool, so he added it to his list of nicknames. Perhaps it means this.

One day we decided that single name "nicks" simply wouldn't suffice. Shortly thereafter we came up with full name nicknames where our original nicknames were lowered in status to nicknames of nicknames. From that day on we became:

Eric=Dabby Dean "Ponch" Burgoyne
I=Billy Dee "Domis" Lime

We came up with these names one day while sluffing school in Dabby Dean's (see how that works? We're still talking about Ponch, er, Eric), room after growing bored of playing NES.

Last November, A.C.E. and I were emailing back and forth and he was asking me about the new "town" I live in which can by no strech of the imagination (even while on drugs), be called a town. It isn't even really homes loosely grouped together--more of a peice of county land someone decided to give the awesome name of "College Ward". As our email chain continued, we decided that College Ward needed to be united and I would be the first mayor. Along with this came a new nickname which is more of a rip off than an homage to one of my favorite TV shows, Futurama.

So, even though the citizenry may not know it, those College Wardians are all secretly governed by Mayor Billy Dee Mechaleckahighmeckahineyho Poopenmeyer (yes, we also liked Pee Wee's blue-faced genie Jambi growing up as well).

Chesno Dyevochka

Yesterday Jenn, Turner, and I loaded up in the car on my lunch break and went to a ski lodge. Well, it looks like a ski lodge at least. It was really the fanciest OBGYN office I have ever been to (not that I've been to enough to make a coffee table book or anything). Imagine 20' ceilings with exposed beams. Rich leather couches and fire to ward off the cold, snowy Cache Valley weather. Yup, that's a ski lodge, but at this lodge there is no doubt, less hot chocolate and more prodding being done.

We were all there for the mid-gestation ultrasound. This is the one where we could find out the gender, see the heart beat, the brain, spinal chord, possible deformities, organs, and all. Turner was really looking forward to it. As a nearly-5-year-old boy he is really into guts, blood, bones, and how the body works. Jenn thinks he might be a doctor, I think he'll be a soldier like me. We both get to see all that.

But, in the words of my sister-in-law, I digress. This fancy ski lodge also had a fancy ultrasound machine. You could change over to hyperactive 3D mode. I believe this is the mode Tom Cruise most often uses when he is performing home-based ultrasounds on his knocked up, live in.

Anyway, in 3D you can get a look at the face of the baby and just about anything else. The face didn't quite look fully formed yet, so it's safe to say that as of right now, the new baby looks like me.

Turner had a good time but surprisingly, was more interested in the Dr. Suess book he picked up in lobby than in the brain and guts and . . . well, you get the picture. He still had a good time and liked what he saw. The most important thing was that the baby is healthy, on schedule (to be delivered on Turner's 5th birthday), and everything looked normal. Plus, we got to celebrate by going to a big Chinese food buffet. Nothing says, hooray for a new baby like all you can eat fried meat.

Oh, and by the way, dyevochka means we're having a new baby girl.

Chesno Weekend

I had an eventful weekend a couple days ago. I am in the Army National Guard and spent 2.5 days in drill with my fellow brothers-at-arms. A good amount of the time I spent in the snow out on firing ranges shooting and blowing things up with a 50 caliber machine gun and 40mm (m203) grenade launcher. It was literally a blast. Can't believe I got paid for that.

The really crazy stuff came about on Sunday when we were all briefed by the general. He confirmed that we are currently slotted for a deployment to Afghanistan this summer. I won't give all the details as most of it is still classified. However, it would be a training mission of the Afghan National Army where we would be split up into training groups to basically teach them to be soldiers. Only soldiers with sufficient rank will be allowed to go on this deployment and I am one they are interested in taking especially since I have experience in Iraq.

They can't take me though. At least not for longer than 9 months, then I would have to volunteer to extend for the full 14 months. You see, there is a rule that a reservist cannot be deployed longer than 24 out of 60 months. I have already been gone 15 of my current 60 month time period. That's why I could not be taken any more than 9 months unless I volunteered.

For a minute I considered volunteering--not without discussing it with my wife of course. It's funny. I've been home now nearly a year, but I have this itch that it's time to leave again. Plus, this sounds like a great mission. Also, I haven't seen Afghanistan yet.

While discussing it with my wife, I said, "Well, I guess me being home when the baby is born is more important than [some monetary gain we would get]."

Her response, "Do you want to say that again and this time leave out 'I guess'?"

Chesno Butt Rock

Back in the late '80s and early '90s my buddies (especially Eric "Ponch" Buchanan) and I were total Butt Rockers. We loved Poison, Winger, AC-DC and all the other "hair" bands whether technically Butt Rock or not.

Lately, I've begun a bit of a butt rock renaissance. I have begun creating entries to a fictional Butt Rock Hall of Fame and have been emailing them to Ponch on (nearly) a weekly basis. So far, Night Ranger, Skid Row, Poison, Damn Yankees and Winger have been honoured as inductees. I have plans in the future of welcoming Tesla, Nelson, Cinderella, Slaughter, Whitesnake, Scorpions, Motley Crue, and more to the Hall.

One day I plan to put all the inductees background info and some music and outrageous photos on a website named The BA Sprinkling System Butt Rock Hall of Fame. You see Ponch and I had a sprinkling system company in high school that was named after us Buchanan-Ashton or BA. BA also stood for other rockin' cool things. Naturally, BA Sprinklers would serve as the sponsors of the Hall of Fame much like the Delta Center or Air Canada Centre. On the website I envision a rippin' split bottom electric guitar serving as the ending "K" in "rock". Can't wait for how cool that will be.

Anyway, I came across this awesome picture of a rock formation in California. It has been named "Butt Rock". If I were a true stoner I would totally think that was much funnier than it really is, but in any case, it is pretty cool. Maybe I'll work it into the logo.

Chesno Cool

Evidently I have been living in a hole and everyone has seen this except for me, but it was too cool to not add here. If anyone has been living in an adjoining hole then check this out.

SkyTV (who I used to watch on a pirated satellite system in Iraq), from the UK has put this together for some crazy reason. Probably said why in the article, but all I saw was "Live Action Simpsons Video" and I stopped reading and started streaming.

Enjoy it here.

Chesno Trials

Yesterday I was sitting in my Sunday School class. The topic was Abraham and Isaac and the question was posed, "Are trials and tribulations in our lives self-inflicted or God-given."

I listened to a couple of people answer with their thoughts, but in the end I came to the conclusion that NO trials are self-inflicted. I believe they fall into other categories:

1) God-given
2) Acts of nature
3) Genetic

Period. Yes, period. At least until I can come up with another category.

1) Trials can clearly be given us from God (if you believe in Him that is). If you disagree, just ask Job. We can be given trials to test us and to make us stronger.

2) Sometimes we are just the victims of nature. I don't believe God sent hurricanes to punish the Gulf States or a tsunami to wipe our Sri Lankan, Indian, and other friends. I think he has set the Earth in rotation and from there nature takes over. Sure, He can control it when he wants, but I don't believe God worries himself with each drop of rain, or gust of wind that takes a shingle off your roof because you didn't pray that morning.

3) I don't believe that my son was given eczema because his mother or I weren't living properly. I have had shingles, as has my grandmother. I have another skin condition I don't even know the name of which is exhibited by inflamed pores. Even though I don't have eczema, it's not a stretch to believe maybe he got it genetically.

So, am I saying that everything is thrust upon us? Oh, no. Not at all. I just don't think we bring on trials in our lives, but consequences. This may be a fight in semantics, but I think it's an important one.

People chose to live below sea level in New Orleans. The consequence of that is possible flooding. I choose to live in a well watered valley bottom near a major fault line. The consequence of that could be one day an earthquake that sinks my house into 10 feet of mud. That's a consequence. I chose to live here and am fully aware of what may come of it.

So, are trials self-inflicted or God-given? They certainly can be God-given, or can come about by other means. However, if you want me to believe that what you're dealing with is a trial you brought on yourself, I don't. It's a consequence of your actions that you can change whether you are the sperm donor to an unwed teenage pregnant girl or a homeowner whose house slid off the hill in the last torrential rain storm.

Chesno Gold!

Yes, this time there is an exclaimation point in the title and not a question mark.

Sweden won the gold yesterday morning. I got up at 6:30am, yes, at that time on a Sunday to watch the game. Anyone who knows me, knows I am not the the sports-watchin' kind, but for a gold medal hockey game with Canada, the US, or Sweden, I will get up and watch.

It was a great game. I was so pleased, I made Swedish meatballs for dinner in honour of our boys. Congratulations Sweden!

Chesno Gold?

Go Sweden Go!

Today Sweden beat the Czech Republic 7-3 to advance to the men's hockey gold medal game on Sunday. They will play either Russia or Finland to be determined today.

Here's hoping the Swedes can bring home the gold after such an embarrassing loss in Salt Lake City four years ago.

Chesno Loser II

I'm still a loser . . . chesno chesno.

My last post (about 15 minutes ago), was about how I missed two events last week, the commemorating of the death of my mom 10 years ago on the 15th and what would be the 84th birthday of my grandfather on the 22nd.

Now, my grandfather wasn't perfect and I don't know a fraction of the terrible things he did, but to me he was a wonderful grandfather. I'm just sad that all my mother, aunts, and cousins didn't have the same relationship or memories of this man.

Grandpa died (like my mom), while I was overseas. However, unlike my mom, I wasn't in the Ukraine, but in Iraq when he died in October 2004. Seems I'll do anything or go anywhere to avoid a funeral. Have I told you that my paternal grandmother also died while I was overseas in 1995? That can be saved for another blog in June when the all-important 11 year milestone rolls around of that.

Grandpa was a lot of things, but if he was anything good in his life, he was a war hero. My small contribution to the effort in Iraq brought into focus just how much we didn't understand what he went through and had to live with all his life. That doesn't excuse anything he did, but it does bring understanding.

As I missed the funeral and the self-acknowledged "ghoulish" pillaging of grandma and grandpa's home by the family after the funeral, I feel lucky to own one pair of his cufflinks with a Swedish emblem on them, and a tie clip from the city where he rehabilitated after his leg was amputated in 1944. A city a live not 1/2 hour from now. Funny how a little 60 year old hunk of silver can link my past with my future. Whatever it does, it makes me feel a little better to have it.

Chesno Loser

I'm a loser . . . chesno.

Last week featured two events that I totally blew off and forgot about until yesterday. Now I did remember them weeks prior, but just not on the actual day. However, I may be okay as each event involves someone in my life who already passed away, so they will probably forgive me.

On February 15th was the 10 year anniversary of the death of my mom. I can understand missing like year 3 or 6 or even that bastard year 4, but not 10. That's a milestone. Imagine me missing my 10 year wedding anniversary this October. Wouldn't be pretty.

Now, since my father remarried 6 months after my mother passed away, it hasn't really been something we've spoken of. I think with my older brother we've spoken on one year commemorating the event. It just isn't something we do in my family. Could have something to do with the fact that my younger siblings feel essentially abandoned since my fathers' marriage and haven't seen or spoken to him in over a year. Could be that in my childhood home there is not a single picture of my mom on the wall now commemorating the nearly 28 years of marriage and 4 children they had together. Perhaps it is because my step mom talks about my mom and her health problems that caused a lot of stress in the home and marriage as though she were there and that it can justify stifling nearly 3 decades of family tradition and bonds.

Ok Tom. Put that strong face back on.

I am able to put that strong face back on I think because I am a bit more separated from my mothers' death than my siblings. It happened while I was in the Ukraine--about three months before my return. When I came home I received a VHS tape of my moms funeral and a couple weeks later the news that dad was getting remarried. Didn't know he was even dating. Well, at least I still have that VHS tape although I've only watched it that one time. Perhaps it's time to watch it again and transfer it to DVD so my children know my mom. It's going to have to happen in my home, not the one of my childhood.

Chesno Hockey

It is a sad day for North American hockey. Almost makes me glad I am at work and not watching it on TV. The US lost to Finland and Canada lost to Russia. Both are now out of the medal race. The only other team I have an affiliation with that is still in the running is Sweden (other than that silly thing about speaking Russian).
Wish I had something witty to say, but I don't and that's the chesno slova.

Chesno

Chesno.

What's that?

I lived in the former Soviet Union for two years ('94-'96), and picked up Russian fluently. I mean, I had to or the mafia (ah, the mafia), would steal my passport, only give me 150,000 Coupons for my 1 US Dollar in trade and kidnap my roommate/work companion for sale to another country like they do all their aging equipment (hello, Middle East. Do you own any Soviet military gear?)

Anyway, Chesno.

Chesno is Russian for "honest". Chesno slova literally means "honest word", but has many other meanings that are difficult to explain if you're not hip to Russian nuances, so I won't tell you. Also, having not been there in a full decade, I can't remember them all.

This blog will be my chesno slova online. Everything else I write online will be pure bull plop (especially in Yahoo! message boards). I have no real direction or theme with this blog other than chesno. It will be in the title or text of each blog somewhere, or at least I will say that it is, from a certain point of view.

Enjoy, and don't chesno my chesno with that other chesno over there. Jerk.
Told you I didn't really remember all the nuances . . .