Is it just me, or does everyone else wish that our nation would just pick a time, and stay on it? While I know that this is not a hot political issue, the time changes in the fall and spring drive me crazy. Even though it is Thanksgiving morning, I was once again wide awake and drinking coffee at 4:30 am. Evidently, my body still thinks that it's 5:30, and I can't convince it otherwise.
I usually slip out into the den to read and watch the local news since I have no desire to awaken my wife who takes a dim view of my early rising habits, and she takes an extremely dim view of being waked up at what she deems " an ungodly hour", I can't really say that I blame her for that.
However, it is fun to sit out in our den which is mostly plate glass and Pecky Cypress with a very high ceiling. I can see God's creation start to break light each morning on one of the most beautiful places on earth. There are almost always a few deer that have bedded down in our yard that start to amble about shortly after sun up, and then a little while later along comes the turkeys taking care of the acorn crop for me.
Thanksgiving is the one holiday that Martha and I are blessed to have all of our children and grandchildren with us. We are even more blessed that we have guests at Riverview over Thanksgiving which means we all get to eat at one big table here at the Lodge, and Martha does not have to cook for this army of family. Thanksgiving night dinner at Riverview is the only meal here that is served buffet style. We have smoked turkey and ham plus all of the traditional dishes that have been in the Cox family for generations.
Cader IV will set a time for dinner, and warn the guests that if they are late, they may fall in line behind the Cox clan. We've never had any guest late for Thanksgiving dinner. All of the Riverview family joins me in wishing you and your families a very happy Thanksgiving. We all have a lot to be grateful for !
Thursday, November 24, 2016
Friday, November 11, 2016
A beautiful day
I woke up this morning to an absolutely beautiful day in South Georgia. I walked out of the house right at daylight to say," Good morning, Lord". I also spoke to my little white deer who has taken to bedding up in the grass in our yard even though we have the yard lighted. It is a crisp 38 degree morning, and I am envious of all of the fun our guests are going to experience today. I was in such a great mood and frame of mind. Then I went and ruined all of that by turning on the news!
First of all, let me say that I am very proud of the way President Obama, President-elect Trump, and the defeated candidate, Secretary Clinton, have handled this transition. This is what a democracy is all about. This is also Veterans Day, and I honor all of the brave men and women today who wore the uniform so that this type of election and transition could occur. Many of these brave folks paid the ultimate price for us to go to the polls, and accept the will of the people.
What I am ashamed of is the anarchists and spoiled college punks who did not get their way, and who are using the election as an excuse to riot and destroy property. I am not a conspiracy theorist, but I do believe that some of these folks are being paid to foment strife. The college kids probably bother me the most with the way they are being pampered and coddled with " comfort foods" and free passes from class because they did not get their way. I have seen the grave sites of the generation of our ancestors that were college age who stormed the beaches of Normandy.
I fear that each successive generation of American citizens are getting softer. I remember whining to my mother once about how hard my Dad was working me in the tobacco and peanut fields. She just looked at me , smiled, and said," Honey, you have it easy compared to the way his father worked him". I hated pulling weeds out of peanut fields by hand so much that I would often fake a stomach ache to go home. I got caught in the " Little Boy who cried Wolf" trap finally because I really did have a bad stomach ache one day. Pop thought I was faking, and would not allow me to go home. By the time, they finally took me to the doctor, my appendix had ruptured,my liver had an abscess, and I had gangrene in my stomach. They did not give me much of a chance to survive, but God was not finished with me yet.
When Cader IV came along, I made him work in every crappy job we had on the plantation in the summer time including scooping the doo-doo out of the kennels. When he got old enough, I gave him a pocket knife. I caught him playing with it in an unsafe manner one day and warned him to be careful. As you would expect, he cut his hand, and came to me with the blood running off of his hand. I looked at it, and determined that the cut did not need stitches. He asked me what he should do, and I replied," Pee on it, and pour some turpentine on it". To say that he was not happy with the answer or my lack of compassion would be an understatement, but I have raised a son who is a man now in every definition of what the word,"man" implies.
I have no sympathy for these cry babies in college now, and place most of the blame on their parents and teachers. OK, that finishes my rant for the day; so let's go back to the first paragraph of this blog.
It is a beautiful fall in South Georgia. Y'all come see us!
First of all, let me say that I am very proud of the way President Obama, President-elect Trump, and the defeated candidate, Secretary Clinton, have handled this transition. This is what a democracy is all about. This is also Veterans Day, and I honor all of the brave men and women today who wore the uniform so that this type of election and transition could occur. Many of these brave folks paid the ultimate price for us to go to the polls, and accept the will of the people.
What I am ashamed of is the anarchists and spoiled college punks who did not get their way, and who are using the election as an excuse to riot and destroy property. I am not a conspiracy theorist, but I do believe that some of these folks are being paid to foment strife. The college kids probably bother me the most with the way they are being pampered and coddled with " comfort foods" and free passes from class because they did not get their way. I have seen the grave sites of the generation of our ancestors that were college age who stormed the beaches of Normandy.
I fear that each successive generation of American citizens are getting softer. I remember whining to my mother once about how hard my Dad was working me in the tobacco and peanut fields. She just looked at me , smiled, and said," Honey, you have it easy compared to the way his father worked him". I hated pulling weeds out of peanut fields by hand so much that I would often fake a stomach ache to go home. I got caught in the " Little Boy who cried Wolf" trap finally because I really did have a bad stomach ache one day. Pop thought I was faking, and would not allow me to go home. By the time, they finally took me to the doctor, my appendix had ruptured,my liver had an abscess, and I had gangrene in my stomach. They did not give me much of a chance to survive, but God was not finished with me yet.
When Cader IV came along, I made him work in every crappy job we had on the plantation in the summer time including scooping the doo-doo out of the kennels. When he got old enough, I gave him a pocket knife. I caught him playing with it in an unsafe manner one day and warned him to be careful. As you would expect, he cut his hand, and came to me with the blood running off of his hand. I looked at it, and determined that the cut did not need stitches. He asked me what he should do, and I replied," Pee on it, and pour some turpentine on it". To say that he was not happy with the answer or my lack of compassion would be an understatement, but I have raised a son who is a man now in every definition of what the word,"man" implies.
I have no sympathy for these cry babies in college now, and place most of the blame on their parents and teachers. OK, that finishes my rant for the day; so let's go back to the first paragraph of this blog.
It is a beautiful fall in South Georgia. Y'all come see us!
Wednesday, November 9, 2016
Election and quail hunting
OK folks, the election season is over, but the quail hunting season is just getting started good; so it is time to turn our attention away from politics and toward what's really important--quail hunting. Of course, I hope everyone realizes that I am writing this as a "tongue-in-cheek" comment.
However, before leaving the subject of politics, let me just say this. We need to think about the name of this great nation, and remember that first word, "UNITED", in the name of the United States of America. We seem to be a divided nation that desperately needs to heal, and find some common ground in the middle that we can all meet upon. I realize that I am showing my age here, but I grew up in a time at Riverview when corporations could legally entertain politicians. I had the privilege of meeting some great statesmen in my early years here. The one thing that they all agreed upon was that compromise was necessary to do what was best for the people. They would reach across the aisles to make that work. At the end of the day, if a bill could be passed that no one got everything they wanted, and everyone was just a bit unhappy, it was probably a good bill. I trace the end of that kind of politics to the Bill Clinton/ Newt Gingrich era. After that, there was no compromising on any issue, and every vote seemed to be right down party lines. Who suffered the most from this type of government is "We, The People". I am praying that this is the dawn of a better day for our beloved nation!
Now as to quail hunting, I have a lot more knowledge and experience with it than politics. The 2016-2017 season is off to a good start. With this drier than normal rainfall we have experienced, our English Cockers are paying for themselves in spades by being able to find and retrieve downed quail. Everyone is really enjoying these lovable little dogs. The Cockers are making it a bit more difficult for a few of our guests who insist that they killed a quail when the guide absolutely knows that not a feather was touched on the shot. People may lie, but a dog is incapable of doing so. If the bird is there, they will find him. If he was not hit, they will come back, look at you with those sad eyes as if to say, " Are you going to make me continue to look for a non-existent quail?"
In closing, let me say that we do still have some open dates for this season, but the phone is ringing everyday, and dates are disappearing daily also. Y'all come on down, enjoy some great hunting, and home made ,fried PBJ sandwiches. After all, health nuts are going to feel real stupid someday lying in hospital beds dying of nothing!
However, before leaving the subject of politics, let me just say this. We need to think about the name of this great nation, and remember that first word, "UNITED", in the name of the United States of America. We seem to be a divided nation that desperately needs to heal, and find some common ground in the middle that we can all meet upon. I realize that I am showing my age here, but I grew up in a time at Riverview when corporations could legally entertain politicians. I had the privilege of meeting some great statesmen in my early years here. The one thing that they all agreed upon was that compromise was necessary to do what was best for the people. They would reach across the aisles to make that work. At the end of the day, if a bill could be passed that no one got everything they wanted, and everyone was just a bit unhappy, it was probably a good bill. I trace the end of that kind of politics to the Bill Clinton/ Newt Gingrich era. After that, there was no compromising on any issue, and every vote seemed to be right down party lines. Who suffered the most from this type of government is "We, The People". I am praying that this is the dawn of a better day for our beloved nation!
Now as to quail hunting, I have a lot more knowledge and experience with it than politics. The 2016-2017 season is off to a good start. With this drier than normal rainfall we have experienced, our English Cockers are paying for themselves in spades by being able to find and retrieve downed quail. Everyone is really enjoying these lovable little dogs. The Cockers are making it a bit more difficult for a few of our guests who insist that they killed a quail when the guide absolutely knows that not a feather was touched on the shot. People may lie, but a dog is incapable of doing so. If the bird is there, they will find him. If he was not hit, they will come back, look at you with those sad eyes as if to say, " Are you going to make me continue to look for a non-existent quail?"
In closing, let me say that we do still have some open dates for this season, but the phone is ringing everyday, and dates are disappearing daily also. Y'all come on down, enjoy some great hunting, and home made ,fried PBJ sandwiches. After all, health nuts are going to feel real stupid someday lying in hospital beds dying of nothing!
Friday, November 4, 2016
Just a few rambling thoughts
After the flood of 1994 which was termed a "500 year event", we had another flood in 1998 that reached almost the same epic heights. It was after the 1998 flood that I decided since I must be almost 1000 years old, I should make a vow not to ever ask God to send rain again. Both of these floods cost Riverview a lot of money. On the '94 flood,which was the worst one, we had no flood insurance since we had been on this location since 1957 without ever being flooded. We did have flood insurance for the 1998 flood. The only reason that I am recalling ancient history is to say that I did not break my vow, but I did casually mention to God in prayer last night that it is getting mighty dry in South Georgia. On the bright side, much cooler weather starts flowing into our area today.
Now is where a few of my rambling thoughts begin. I have watched with interest a lot of advertisements lately on ant-aging creams, diets, exercises, etc. I truly believe that the only way we could slow the aging process down would be if we were to pass an anti-aging bill and allow it to work its way through Congress. Since bills seem to work through this manipulative process slower than smoke off of cold doo-doo, we might all stay young forever.
We have an election coming up next week, and I have never experienced one like this in my lifetime. If every voter, voted for "none of the above", what would happen. Since that is not likely to happen, allow me to pose a constitutional question that could possibly arise, and I am being serious with this question. Should a president be elected and then impeached, could she/he pardon itself, or does the pardon have to come from the successor?
In closing this short blog, allow me to share this blessing I read the other day that I would wish on all of you:
May your troubles be less, may your blessings be more. And may nothing but happiness come through your door!
Watching hunting dogs course through these big piney woods in search of quail is one of my definitions of happiness. Come see us!
Now is where a few of my rambling thoughts begin. I have watched with interest a lot of advertisements lately on ant-aging creams, diets, exercises, etc. I truly believe that the only way we could slow the aging process down would be if we were to pass an anti-aging bill and allow it to work its way through Congress. Since bills seem to work through this manipulative process slower than smoke off of cold doo-doo, we might all stay young forever.
We have an election coming up next week, and I have never experienced one like this in my lifetime. If every voter, voted for "none of the above", what would happen. Since that is not likely to happen, allow me to pose a constitutional question that could possibly arise, and I am being serious with this question. Should a president be elected and then impeached, could she/he pardon itself, or does the pardon have to come from the successor?
In closing this short blog, allow me to share this blessing I read the other day that I would wish on all of you:
May your troubles be less, may your blessings be more. And may nothing but happiness come through your door!
Watching hunting dogs course through these big piney woods in search of quail is one of my definitions of happiness. Come see us!
Saturday, October 22, 2016
Hospitals and hunting
Given the title of this blog, I would much prefer to talk about hunting as our first week has been excellent with great dog work although the first part of the week was warmer than normal for this time of the year. Yesterday and today have been crisp and cool--perfect bird hunting weather.
But first, with apologies to my good friend Dr. Ron F., who is adding hospital consulting to his impressive resume, I have to rant a bit about hospitals. As far as I can tell, there is no difference between hospitals and the federal government when it comes to paperwork and screw ups. At least I know that there will always be a market for our pulpwood for paper because we have to fill out a ton of repetitive paperwork at each station. It would seem to me that a central server should have all of the data on file by now. I'm also positive that Martha now knows her name, birthday, and what she is at the hospital for.
We were scheduled to have her port implantation procedure performed on Thursday, Oct. 20th at 1:00pm. They placed us in a holding cell with a temperature of about 40 degrees. Martha had blankets on her, but I nearly froze to death. The nurses kept telling us that all of the operating rooms were backed up. However, I strongly suspect that they were punishing my surgeon buddy for opening his on surgical office. They finally took her to surgery at around 8:00 pm. The procedure went very smoothly, and Martha did fine.
However, by the time we got out, the SurgiCare outpatient facility had closed; so then the lunacy of hospital procedures kicked in. They would not dismiss her until they could admit her to a hospital room before dismissing her. They had a man's room available, but no women's rooms. I never realized that hospitals designated rooms by sexes. We FINALLY got a room, and it took us all of ten minutes in the room for Martha to perform her one chore. I helped her get dressed, and we finally got out after midnight , and arrived home about 1:00 am. We took the back roads home, and I could only drive about 45 mph as we drove through plantation country. I stopped counting deer on the side of the road at 45. I had to make certain that a deer did not decide to commit suicide by car, and damage my wife's fresh surgery. Oh, did I mention that we had to be back at Phoebe Putney Hospital the very next morning to see her oncologist.
I sure am glad that Cader IV and staff runs Riverview much more efficiently than this hospital does. Our English Cockers continue to impress everyone with their sweet dispositions, and flushing and retrieving skills. We certainly have a happier client list than Phoebe Putney Hospital does. If you have not made a reservation yet, I would encourage you to give Cader IV a call. We do still have some spaces available for groups scattered through out the season. We hope to see you at Riveview, and hope everyone is enjoying this fall weather as much as we are here!
But first, with apologies to my good friend Dr. Ron F., who is adding hospital consulting to his impressive resume, I have to rant a bit about hospitals. As far as I can tell, there is no difference between hospitals and the federal government when it comes to paperwork and screw ups. At least I know that there will always be a market for our pulpwood for paper because we have to fill out a ton of repetitive paperwork at each station. It would seem to me that a central server should have all of the data on file by now. I'm also positive that Martha now knows her name, birthday, and what she is at the hospital for.
We were scheduled to have her port implantation procedure performed on Thursday, Oct. 20th at 1:00pm. They placed us in a holding cell with a temperature of about 40 degrees. Martha had blankets on her, but I nearly froze to death. The nurses kept telling us that all of the operating rooms were backed up. However, I strongly suspect that they were punishing my surgeon buddy for opening his on surgical office. They finally took her to surgery at around 8:00 pm. The procedure went very smoothly, and Martha did fine.
However, by the time we got out, the SurgiCare outpatient facility had closed; so then the lunacy of hospital procedures kicked in. They would not dismiss her until they could admit her to a hospital room before dismissing her. They had a man's room available, but no women's rooms. I never realized that hospitals designated rooms by sexes. We FINALLY got a room, and it took us all of ten minutes in the room for Martha to perform her one chore. I helped her get dressed, and we finally got out after midnight , and arrived home about 1:00 am. We took the back roads home, and I could only drive about 45 mph as we drove through plantation country. I stopped counting deer on the side of the road at 45. I had to make certain that a deer did not decide to commit suicide by car, and damage my wife's fresh surgery. Oh, did I mention that we had to be back at Phoebe Putney Hospital the very next morning to see her oncologist.
I sure am glad that Cader IV and staff runs Riverview much more efficiently than this hospital does. Our English Cockers continue to impress everyone with their sweet dispositions, and flushing and retrieving skills. We certainly have a happier client list than Phoebe Putney Hospital does. If you have not made a reservation yet, I would encourage you to give Cader IV a call. We do still have some spaces available for groups scattered through out the season. We hope to see you at Riveview, and hope everyone is enjoying this fall weather as much as we are here!
Tuesday, October 18, 2016
The 2016-2017 hunting season has officially opened
As the title above indicates, Riverview Plantation officially kicked off the 2016-2017 hunting season with the arrival of guests on Sunday, October 16th. However, it did not quite begin the way I had planned it. My plans were to go to church, and enjoy my first opening day as a semi-retired person sitting on my porch watching the vans arrive and listening to the guests shoot clay targets. However, I received a text from Cader IV about 7:30 Sunday morning informing me that he and his entire family had a horrible throw-up virus. He said that they had been up all night, and that the virus had not abated one bit.
So, the old war horse saddled up his pony, and came to work on opening day. I love being over 60 years old because I learn something new every day---and forget about six things that I used to know. Everything went smooth as silk, possibly because Jerry and Greg asked me to just stay in the office and answer the phone.
Since we are open, let me remind you that every day millions of innocent plants are being killed by vegetarians. You can help end this senseless violence by booking a quail hunt with us, and eating some delicious quail. The woods look great, and the dogs and guides are all doing superb jobs. From what I saw on the score cards yesterday, the quail are not cooperating too good by dropping dead at the sound of the shotguns. Maybe we need to teach acting acting lessons for our quail.
In closing this short blog, let me mention that both Jerry and Cader IV now feel that we are far enough along in our English Cocker training program that we may be ready to begin selling a few of them this year. We have one or two of these little warriors on almost every jeep now, and we have a good pipeline of young dogs in the background. If you see and fall in love with one of them while you are here this season, I think that we will at least be open to discussing some sales.
We hope to see y'all at Riverview this season!
So, the old war horse saddled up his pony, and came to work on opening day. I love being over 60 years old because I learn something new every day---and forget about six things that I used to know. Everything went smooth as silk, possibly because Jerry and Greg asked me to just stay in the office and answer the phone.
Since we are open, let me remind you that every day millions of innocent plants are being killed by vegetarians. You can help end this senseless violence by booking a quail hunt with us, and eating some delicious quail. The woods look great, and the dogs and guides are all doing superb jobs. From what I saw on the score cards yesterday, the quail are not cooperating too good by dropping dead at the sound of the shotguns. Maybe we need to teach acting acting lessons for our quail.
In closing this short blog, let me mention that both Jerry and Cader IV now feel that we are far enough along in our English Cocker training program that we may be ready to begin selling a few of them this year. We have one or two of these little warriors on almost every jeep now, and we have a good pipeline of young dogs in the background. If you see and fall in love with one of them while you are here this season, I think that we will at least be open to discussing some sales.
We hope to see y'all at Riverview this season!
Thursday, October 6, 2016
Big cities
I don't know how much they pay folks who live in large metropolitan areas, but whatever it is, it's not enough! Circumstances have dictated that I have had to drive from South Georgia to the north side of Atlanta, Georgia several times lately. Driving on I-75 is akin to a NASCAR race. If you drive any slower than 82 mph, you will get run over. It doesn't help at all to have my built in speed nagger in the front passenger seat constantly telling me that I am driving too fast while I am fighting to stay alive.
However, the fun really begins once I near Atlanta. I remember flying into San Francisco several years ago, renting a car, and driving up into the wine country. There must have been 10 lanes of traffic, but everyone was strolling along at 55-65 mph, and they were all happy as a clam to let you change into another lane if you needed to get over. Now maybe they were all smoking a little dope, and on medicated peace and tranquility, but even though the traffic was horrendous, the driving was easy and pleasant.
NOT SO WITH ATLANTA TRAFFIC ! Once you approach the outskirts of Atlanta, you run into thousands of commuters who must wake up just plain mad at the world each day. They are all driving like speed demons, bumper to bumper, and hell bent for leather to get somewhere. I know where I want a good many of them to arrive, and it's quite warm down there.I'm the kind of driver who likes to keep a little distance between me and the car in front of me. In Atlanta, that is a veritable invitation for a driver to yank his car right in front of you.
Should you need to change lanes, nine out of ten drivers will close up on you if they see your blinker on just to make certain that you have no chance to get into the lane you need to be in. Consequently, you are unable to take the exit you need, and then that aggravating lady inside my GPS unit starts repeating," recalculating". She has been known to ask me to make an illegal U turn which would be tantamount to suicide.
By this time my built in speed control passenger in the front seat has finally stopped talking because her knuckles are white, and she has assumed the crash position as taught by the airlines. What these Atlanta drivers do not know is that I have a really big pistol in my glove compartment, and a smaller pistol strapped to an ankle holster. One of these days I'm going to poke that big, old Judge pistol of mine up one of their nostrils, and let them enjoy hyperventilating for a while like I do while trying to reach my destination alive.
I do not think any native southerners live in Atlanta any more. I know that we were all raised to be courteous and respectful of our fellow man. All of the drivers that I have encountered in Atlanta traffic remind me of the old song by Alabama that goes: " I'm in a hurry to get things done. I rush and rush until life's no fun. All I've really got to do is live and die, but I'm in a hurry, and don't know why".
As for me, I am so much happier driving on dirt roads and dodging deer. That's the kind of traffic problems I enjoy!
However, the fun really begins once I near Atlanta. I remember flying into San Francisco several years ago, renting a car, and driving up into the wine country. There must have been 10 lanes of traffic, but everyone was strolling along at 55-65 mph, and they were all happy as a clam to let you change into another lane if you needed to get over. Now maybe they were all smoking a little dope, and on medicated peace and tranquility, but even though the traffic was horrendous, the driving was easy and pleasant.
NOT SO WITH ATLANTA TRAFFIC ! Once you approach the outskirts of Atlanta, you run into thousands of commuters who must wake up just plain mad at the world each day. They are all driving like speed demons, bumper to bumper, and hell bent for leather to get somewhere. I know where I want a good many of them to arrive, and it's quite warm down there.I'm the kind of driver who likes to keep a little distance between me and the car in front of me. In Atlanta, that is a veritable invitation for a driver to yank his car right in front of you.
Should you need to change lanes, nine out of ten drivers will close up on you if they see your blinker on just to make certain that you have no chance to get into the lane you need to be in. Consequently, you are unable to take the exit you need, and then that aggravating lady inside my GPS unit starts repeating," recalculating". She has been known to ask me to make an illegal U turn which would be tantamount to suicide.
By this time my built in speed control passenger in the front seat has finally stopped talking because her knuckles are white, and she has assumed the crash position as taught by the airlines. What these Atlanta drivers do not know is that I have a really big pistol in my glove compartment, and a smaller pistol strapped to an ankle holster. One of these days I'm going to poke that big, old Judge pistol of mine up one of their nostrils, and let them enjoy hyperventilating for a while like I do while trying to reach my destination alive.
I do not think any native southerners live in Atlanta any more. I know that we were all raised to be courteous and respectful of our fellow man. All of the drivers that I have encountered in Atlanta traffic remind me of the old song by Alabama that goes: " I'm in a hurry to get things done. I rush and rush until life's no fun. All I've really got to do is live and die, but I'm in a hurry, and don't know why".
As for me, I am so much happier driving on dirt roads and dodging deer. That's the kind of traffic problems I enjoy!
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