Grandson's first birthday yesterday

[Snattlerake]

Here we go!

We had tarps on the floor and he was wearing a plastic coverall so let the games begin!

He was born during my stay at the same hospital. I was there for a week and he was a premie so he had a two-week stay. He is 30 pounds now.

He did this with a flip of his hands

We decided to get some cake before it was all on the floor.

Hmmm, this is a new texture!

He finally got some in his mouth!

Mmmmm, that's good!

The aftermath of Ryker!

 

[Snattlerake]

If I could give anything I wanted to give as a gift for you, my grandson, it will not be made of plastic or metal or wood. Nor will it be as fleeting and fragile as any object bought in any store.

I think I would give you a late afternoon sun in the month of October. A field of corn still standing, and powdered dry clods of dirt underfoot. The land, so rich, that every step yields the scent of God’s good earth. Then at the end of the field, there is the woodlot of dancing maples with each leaf trying to look yellower than the next. And, in the row of yellow, a majestic oak of red as if it was a burst of flame.

Into this wonderland of magnificence, I will put a pheasant, a big gorgeous bird loudly protesting during takeoff. The gaudy plumage of this grand bird is in direct competition with the scene. This I will give to you my grandson for here is true value. If you grow to become a hunter and shoot the bird and enjoy its bounty, so much the better. Most important, I will give you the appreciation of these wonderful things, and I hope with the bird in hand, you will smooth its feathers, pause to admire its beauty, and give it a dignity in death.

I would also like to give you such virtues as honesty, faithfulness, and reliability, but most of all, that which is so lacking in today’s society, respect. Respect for yourself so you will perform manfully when there is no one around you to monitor your actions. Respect for the game you hunt, and the gun you shoot, and respect for the land and land owners you hunt on.

I would like to instill in you the burning, uncompromising respect for our country and the flag and of your forefathers, the men of the American Armed Forces who fought and died for this country.

I would give you respect for the dignity of labor. Today, everyone wants to be chief, no one wants to be Indian. Yet there is greatness in digging the deepest ditch, laying the most bricks, carrying the largest load and doing a perfect job. I have watched a gunsmith finish a fine checkering job. “There, not one overrun,” was his comment as he straightened from the mind-boggling, tedious job. Indifference is why there are so few gunsmiths and such large borders on our checkering.

Sweat used to be the product of hard labor like hauling hay from a truck up to the top of a barn, stacking the hay for hours on end then back to the field to get another load. Waiting inside the unairconditioned truck in 100 plus degree heat for the combine to come around and dump another precious bin full of wheat. Today, it is called perspiration, it happens when the air conditioning breaks.

The greatest gift I would give you is love. Love of your fellow man, equally important, love of the simple things. What is more basic than heat and cold. There is much to enjoy in the heat of the summertime, especially as a child swimming in a pool, fishing or just lolling around. For the adult, there is sitting behind a hedgerow watching for a deer. Watching for their habits and quirks like the flash of their white tail before they bolt off into the brush in anticipation of the upcoming hunting season, or enjoying a cold beverage at the end of the day.

In the cold winter, there is the joy of just walking, listening to your boots squeak in the snow. Seeing your breath flow from your body as if it is giving back the nutrients of life to the trees hibernating for the winter. What is better than a bowl of venison chili after a day in the freezing cold.

Love is the most profound emotion of the human animal. Indeed, there is the love a man has for his wife, his family and his love of God. But the most easily recognized devotion is the look of love in the eyes of the devoted dog as he watches over you dozing by the fire after a day of hunting. These things I will give to you, my grandson, and hopefully, they will endure.

Giving credit where credit is due, this was inspired by the December 1973 Parting Shot article in Guns and Ammo. Dick Wolff was the author. I changed it a lot to fit my life and what I would give my grandson.

 

[Oklahomabassin]

Happy Birthday!

 

[turkeyrun]

A great gift

Happy Birthday, Ryker

 

[XYZ]

Looks like the smartest guy in the room.

Happy birthday big man!

 

[dennishoddy]

Awesome photos! Happy Birthday big man!

 

[Snattlerake]

Mama is soooo excited! He stood up on his own today without the use of a prop! He's only been crawling for a few weeks.

 

[Mr.Glock]

If I could give anything I wanted to give as a gift for you, my grandson, it will not be made of plastic or metal or wood. Nor will it be as fleeting and fragile as any object bought in any store.

I think I would give you a late afternoon sun in the month of October. A field of corn still standing, and powdered dry clods of dirt underfoot. The land, so rich, that every step yields the scent of God’s good earth. Then at the end of the field, there is the woodlot of dancing maples with each leaf trying to look yellower than the next. And, in the row of yellow, a majestic oak of red as if it was a burst of flame.

Into this wonderland of magnificence, I will put a pheasant, a big gorgeous bird loudly protesting during takeoff. The gaudy plumage of this grand bird is in direct competition with the scene. This I will give to you my grandson for here is true value. If you grow to become a hunter and shoot the bird and enjoy its bounty, so much the better. Most important, I will give you the appreciation of these wonderful things, and I hope with the bird in hand, you will smooth its feathers, pause to admire its beauty, and give it a dignity in death.

I would also like to give you such virtues as honesty, faithfulness, and reliability, but most of all, that which is so lacking in today’s society, respect. Respect for yourself so you will perform manfully when there is no one around you to monitor your actions. Respect for the game you hunt, and the gun you shoot, and respect for the land and land owners you hunt on.

I would like to instill in you the burning, uncompromising respect for our country and the flag and of your forefathers, the men of the American Armed Forces who fought and died for this country.

I would give you respect for the dignity of labor. Today, everyone wants to be chief, no one wants to be Indian. Yet there is greatness in digging the deepest ditch, laying the most bricks, carrying the largest and doing a perfect job. I have watched a gunsmith finish a fine checkering job. “There, not one overrun,” was his comment as he straightened from the mind-boggling, tedious job. Indifference is why there are so few gunsmiths and such large borders on our checkering.

Sweat used to be the product of hard labor like hauling hay from a truck up to the top of a barn, stacking the hay for hours on end then back to the field to get another load. Waiting inside the unairconditioned truck in 100 plus degree heat for the combine to come around and dump another precious bin full of wheat. Today, it is called perspiration, it happens when the air conditioning breaks.

The greatest gift I would give you is love. Love of your fellow man, equally important, love of the simple things. What is more basic than heat and cold. There is much to enjoy in the heat of the summertime, especially as a child swimming in a pool, fishing or just lolling around. For the adult, there is sitting behind a hedgerow watching for a deer. Watching for their habits and quirks like the flash of their white tail before they bolt off into the brush in anticipation of the upcoming hunting season, or enjoying a cold beverage at the end of the day.

In the cold winter, there is the joy of just walking, listening to your boots squeak in the snow. Seeing your breath flow from your body as if it is giving back the nutrients of life to the trees hibernating for the winter. What is better than a bowl of venison chili after a day in the freezing cold.

Love is the most profound emotion of the human animal. Indeed, there is the love a man has for his wife, his family and his love of God. But the most easily recognized devotion is the look of love in the eyes of the devoted dog as he watches over you dozing by the fire after a day of hunting. These things I will give to you, my grandson, and hopefully, they will endure.

Giving credit where credit is due, this was inspired by the December 1973 Parting Shot article in Guns and Ammo. Dick Wolff was the author. I changed it a lot to fit my life and what I would give my grandson.

Such great truthfulness in those words! Enjoyed that a lot! Enjoy and spoil that boy!

 

[bigred1]

Looks like good cake! Happy Birthday Ryker.