Photo Guessing Game

So let's have a guessing game. Anyone care to ponder what the above image is? I cropped it out of a larger image and enlarged it a bit, but otherwise it has not been enhanced in any way. Actually, it represents a "de-hancement" of sorts. If I stare at it long enough, it starts looking like the face of a demonic bunny.

The winner of the contest gets a virtual overnight stay at the Motel of Love in Chicago.

Back to Cedar Ridge

So several people in the grotto have been asking me to arrange a trip to Cedar Ridge, which I first visited several years ago. I finally relented and planned for a trip this past Saturday. One by one, everyone dropped out, so only John "I am the" Law showed up at Shoney's on Saturday morning. This cave is really awesome though, so we loaded up in the Honda and headed for Monteagle.

There were snow flurries that morning in Nashville, so I was expecting some possible bad weather going over the plateau, but the only thing bad up there was the fog. You could only see about 30 or 40 feet ahead on top of the mountain, but of course people were still blazing past me at about 80 mph or so. By the way, if you're going down I-24 past Murfreesboro, the local cops there apparently need to make up a budget shortfall, since they had about 6 brand new SUV vehicles planted in the median waiting to write tickets.

We got to the cave about 10:30 and headed in. It was pretty chilly outside, but the cave was much warmer. The first time I was in this cave, we didn't have any really bright lights, but John brought a 50 watt track light hooked up to a big battery that we used to help light it up for pictures. This is definitely the way to see this cave. This light made my 3 watt Apex look pitiful by comparison and showed off a lot more detail when it was turned on.

As I've said before, this cave is simply amazing. I've never seen one this beautiful anywhere else, and I've been told by long time cavers in the area that it's one of the best for the sheer number of decorations in a small space. We spent about 3.5 hours in the cave, mostly letting John get his camera set-up.

Afterwards, we did the obligatory tacos and cold beer at the Mexican place in Kimball, TN and then headed back to Nashville. I could tell it had been a while since I'd been caving since my shoulder and upper back muscles were pretty torn up, and are still sore today.

Here's a picture of me that John took in the cave. You can also see more of his pictures by clicking here.

Enoch McDonald Strother

I was trying to find something earlier tonight and I stumbled across a metal box I got out of my grandparents house about 10 years ago. I'd never really looked through it, since it was mostly full of paperwork, which my grandparents tended to hang onto like grim death.

Once I started looking through it though, I realized it belonged to my great-uncle George W. Strother, who died back in 1974. I spent an hour looking through all of the papers, most of which were really old life insurance policies from the 1950's, along with bills for what were apparently sawmill parts.

Down near the bottom I found this picture, which is my great-grandfather Enoch McDonald Strother, who was born in 1866 and died in 1919. There aren't a lot of pictures of him that I've seen before, and I'm not sure if I've seen this one. The picture was really small, measuring about 2.5 inches by 1.5 inches. I scanned it at really high resolution and I think it came out pretty well. You can click on the image to get a larger version than this.

This picture proves once again that I didn't inherit any of the Strother genes that I really would have wanted to. His mustache puts Tom Selleck's to shame, but when I tried to grow one years ago it just looked sad and pathetic.

Reading Lists

I've updated my reading list for 2007 and started the new list for 2008, which you can find over on the right side of the blog. I didn't read as many books in 2007 as I wanted to, but I think I still read a few more than I did in 2006. My father-in-law gave me several caving books for Christmas, and I finished the first one last night. I still have a pile of about six books that I'm in various phases of reading. I read a whole book sitting in the book store waiting on Victoria over the course of about a month, 50 pages at a sitting.

Our Little Book Worm

So almost every night, I give Jack his bath, get him dried off, and then into his pajamas. Then I read 2 or 3 books with him in my lap and tag up with Mommy who reads him another book or two and rocks him for a bit before she puts him in his crib with some soft music playing and his blanket, duck, and whatever else happens to be in there, usually including a book or two.

Last night we went through this whole process and then headed back downstairs as usual. I'm sitting on the couch with the laptop and Marissa is watching TV in the next room, with the baby monitor next to her. After about half an hour she says "Go upstairs and check on Jackson, I swear I can hear pages turning."

I'm dubious about this, but I go up the stairs, open the door, and duck inside. There's almost no light in the room, just a little from a small night light and maybe a little from outside through the blinds. I go up to the crib and there's Jack, leaning against the back of the crib with a book in his lap and his pacifier in his mouth, turning the pages. He gives me a look that basically said "What?"

His eyes are drooping and you can tell he's just about asleep, but he's still sitting there trying to read. Marissa came up to take a look as well, and read him one more book and rocked him again before he finally went to sleep for the night.

He's just been obsessed with them lately and he probably has about 200 books already in his collection. I'm so proud of him. He's a book nut just like his Daddy and Nana.

Happy Birthday Jack!

My boy is two years old today. Wow! I can't believe it's been two years now. He's growing like a weed and talking a lot. He loves books, trains, cars, and grocery carts. His mommy and sissy are the most important people in his life, but I'm still pretty popular with him. I get a "Daddy!" and a leg hug every time he sees me. He's almost too big to carry around very much now, which makes me sad.

We had his birthday party a few weeks ago so people could show up, but we're going to go to Chuck E. Cheese tomorrow to have one more small celebration. Expect pictures soon.

Happy Birthday Granddaddy

My maternal grandfather, Fred Melton Strother, would have turned 100 years old today. He lived a good life, and he was and always will be one of my best friends. Even when I was really young, he couldn't wait to pick me up and take me with him all over. He took me places and showed me things that are too numerous to recount them all. We used to just go places just to go places. Whether it was to the quarry to watch them blast that day, or just to stop by a spring he knew about since it had such good water.

He almost never treated me like a child, just as someone he loved and trusted. If we went to a cattle auction he let me, a 10 year old, bid on livestock and decide how high we would go. I had a shotgun at that age too, and he'd send me down to the creek next to the bottom lands to kill a couple of squirrels so Maw Maw could make dumplings with them.

From the time I was 6 or so, he would have me driving the tractor in 1st gear low, hauling a trailer so they could walk along behind it and throw the bales of hay up on it. He'd always try to get me to pick up a bale of hay, and of course I couldn't pick it up until I was about 14. From then on I didn't get to drive the tractor when they were bailing hay any more. I was walking behind the trailer throwing them up on it. Heh.

I know people that knew him either loved him or hated him, but I don't think anyone could ask for a better grandfather than him. He's been gone for 14 years now, but I still miss him so much it hurts. I was lucky enough to have all four of my grandparents until he passed away and they were all very special to me. Granddaddy was different though. My parents never had to ask him if I could stay with them. If anything, they had to make me come home, which disappointed both of us usually.

He lived his life exactly the way he wanted, which is the most important lesson I learned from him. He survived a bout of colon cancer, and didn't have his boys with him when he was buried. I hope to take mine with me, even if they're in a pickle jar tucked under my arm.