QBall’s Tales

TAKE A KNEE

Photo borrowed from the official Ted Nugent Facebook page.

Reposted on the Ted Nugent official Facebook page. Originally written by Stanislaus Drew Copied and posted here for the sake of future reference to a well thought out piece written out of frustration during a time of National unrest. 



Take a little trip to Valley Forge in January. If you don’t know where that is, just Google it from the sidelines. Hold a musket ball in your fingers and imagine it piercing your flesh and breaking a bone or two. There won’t be a doctor or trainer to assist you until after the battle, so just wait your turn. Take your cleats and socks off to get a real experience. Then take a knee.

Then, take one at the beach in Normandy where man after American man stormed the beach, even as the one in front of him was shot to pieces… the very sea stained with American blood. The only blockers most had were the dead bodies in front of them, riddled with bullets from enemy fire.

Take a knee in the sweat soaked jungles of Vietnam. from Khe San to Saigon… Anywhere will do. REAL Americans died in all those jungles. There was no playbook that told them what was next, but they knew what flag they represented. When they came home, they were protested as well… and spit on for reasons only cowards know.

 Take another knee in the blood drenched sands of Fallujah in 110 degree heat… Wear your Kevlar helmet and battle dress… Your number won’t be printed on it unless your number is up! You’ll need to stay hydrated but there won’t be anyone to squirt Gatorade into your mouth. You’re on your own.

 There’s a lot of places to take a knee. Real Americans have given their lives all over the world. When you use the banner under which they fought as a source for your displeasure, you dishonor the memories of those who bled for the very freedoms you have. That’s what the red stripes mean. It represents the blood of those who spilled a sea of it defending your liberty.

 While you’re on your knee, pray for those that came before you, not on a manicured lawn striped and printed with numbers to announce every inch of ground taken… but on nameless hills and bloodied beaches and sweltering forests and bitter cold mountains… every inch marked by an American life lost serving that flag you protest.

 No cheerleaders, no announcers, no coaches, no fans… just American men and women… delivering the real fight against those who chose to harm us… blazing a path so you would have ‘the right to take a knee.’

 You haven’t an inkling what it took to get you where you are; but your ‘protest’ is duly noted. Not only is it disgraceful to a nation of real heroes, it serves the purpose of pointing to your ingratitude for those who chose to defend you under that banner that will still wave long after your jersey is issued to another…

 If you really feel the need to take a knee, come with me to church on Sunday and we’ll both kneel before Almighty God. We’ll thank Him for preserving this country for as long as He has. We’ll beg forgiveness for our ingratitude for all He has provided us. We’ll appeal to Him for understanding and wisdom. We’ll pray for liberty and justice for all… because He is the one who provides those things.

 And there will be no protest. There will only be gratitude for His provision and a plea for His continued grace and mercy on the land of the free and the home of the brave It goes like this…

“GOD BLESS AMERICA!”

by Stanislaus Drew

After getting rained out on Monday evening with a load of fertilizer on the trailer and sitting on hold/standby all day on Tuesday my boots are finally back in the dirt.  

Monday evenings load has been unloaded and I’m back in line to load another

 . 

We spent most of the day under threat of rain and constantly checking the radar screen on the phone. My floater operator received the call to put us on hold at the field before we had even arrived. This was a 150 acres using a total of 107,000 pounds of fertilizer. As such this wasn’t a small nor quick job and the plan is always once you start it’s got to be finished. 

After we spent about half an hour waiting, the rain finally came and we headed back to the fertilizer plant. 

Sometimes there are spots that appear, from the drivers seat,  like it’s going to be impossible to safely drive out of.  I have yet to find a spot that I’ve backed in to that couldn’t be driven out of.  

Not every “dump truck” legally fits on your ordinary roadway. Some are built for offroad use though they do see some pavement while being driven from jobsite to jobsite. Other offroad trucks are simply too huge to be driven on the typical road surface.  The 30 ton articulated Caterpillar is an excellent workhorse of an offroad truck.

 

These images were taken in late December 2016 while stripping overburden (clay and black dirt) in an effort to expand the current mining areas in a couple of the pits my employer runs.

The Mrs and I spent the past several many months contemplating and searching for a replacement for our 2010 half ton Dodge Ram 1500 Laramie that we’d grown to love. Unfortunately, our Dodge just didn’t really care for pulling our camper.  And so the search for a 3/4 ton faster pickup began.  We ended up buying a 2015 Chevy Silverado 2500HD Quad Cab.

The new truck pulls the camper with ease as I would expect from a 3/4 ton.

We had been putting off hauling in rock to full potholes in our driveway.  I figured that we might as well make use of the new HD and haul some rocks.  (I’ll end up using the dump truck from work to haul several loads of 3/4″ with fines for a driving surface later in the year or next spring.)

I even recruited the girls to help. The truth is that I had trouble keeping them out of the box so that I could actually get it unloaded.

About a month ago this is what I found as a driveway that ends at an abandoned farm site not far from my house. I was out there doing some work with the dump truck.

Now about a month later that minimal driveway has been all but totally erased. I’m in the neighborhood today with the fertilizer trailer working for the Co-Op.