Saturday April 20, 2024 
Peaceful Transition, Really?
In response to Michael Roland’s letter 10/15/2020. Your article made me laugh! Peaceful Transition, Really! I know you didn’t really mean what you stated because of the BS you and your democrat socialist party have put our President thru for the last 4 years. Did you forget the coup attempt started before the 2016 election. Did you forget “Russia Russia Russia” that the democrat socialist party ran in the mainstream media for years. Did you forget the spying that Hillary started in 2016, Did you forget the FBI and CIA deep state interference with the 2016 election. Peaceful transition, really!!! I have never seen a human being survive the intense crushing pressure as your media, Hollywood, FBI, CIA, antifa, BLM, socialists, communists, Congress and other radical left organizations have illegally done to our President. You should be ashamed of yourself! The President will be re-elected unless the fake democrat party illegally cheats their way into White House. A second term will expose your “peaceful transition” lie and send these criminals to jail. If President Trump were to lose this election, the United States of America’s will forever slide into the darkness of hell.
Victor Welch, Wynantskill
Memoirs of an Amnesiac: Bratton Fleming
My mother was a baby-boomer from World War I. She was born in the farm village of Bratton Fleming in North Devon, England. According to family legend, her birth-house was haunted. A starry sky plus Zodiac signs were painted on the bedroom ceiling, and one night Mom’s mother woke up to find an old woman staring her in the face.
I came to know the place in the early 1980s, when I was a school teacher and spent summers in England. Mom’s cousins welcomed me into their homes, and I helped on their farm in the country. Across the rolling fields I could see Bratton in the distance.
It hugs a pretty steep hillside. Unless you’re indoors or on a level yard, gravity tends to usher you out of town. On a bicycle you’d get a thrilling send-off. The residents must be tenacious–and may have one leg longer than the other. 😉
A local historian told me that Ian Fleming (author of James Bond) had lived there for a while. His neighbor built miniature toys as a hobby; he was the inspiration for Agent Q, who outfits James Bond with his quirky gadgets. That historian may have been pulling my leg, but I knew an ingenious tinkerer there named George Tribe. Sometimes we’d see him in his yard, refurbishing a traction engine from around 1900. That was an early tractor, powered by a steam engine like a locomotive. George got it working, and eventually took it for a road-test, which was televised on the local news. Imagine trying to parallel-park something that massive!
I’ll always be grateful to my cousins for their friendship and hospitality. It’s a lovely corner of the world, and I’ve enjoyed it as few tourists can.
Ron McKee, Averill Park
Bright Be The Light
We sleep serenely through the night
Knowing that the darkness will bring forth the light
The birds sing a unique song at the dawn of a new day
Urging us to get up and enjoy today
The leaves of every plant reach for the sky
Because without the life giving power
Of light they shall perish and die
I gaze upon my cat basking in the warmth of the sun
Taunting me to come outside and have some fun
The rays of light give the earth
A subtle glamour and a glimmering glow
If you take the time to observe
You’ll see God puts on quite a show
The night brings forth fright
While the light gleams with delight
Evil tends to lurk at night
Then the light forces it to take flight
Suddenly a violent storm blew through the town
Leaving behind branches, and large trees came down
The lights flickered aimlessly and then ceased
The neighbors gazed upon the scene with disbelief
The folks grew contrite without their precious light
I prayed to God to keep everyone safe and sound
Until the source of the outage could be found
The night seemed longer than usual but the
Sun rose again without refusal
The next afternoon I heard a clicking sound
From above, when I was in my cellar
The power restoration evoked elation
And was rather stellar
To be without, teaches you what having, is all about
When God said “Let there be light!”
It made the world a beautiful sight
Let the light of the Lord shine upon you each day
And you’ll see infinite blessings coming your way
Donna Masters, Troy
The Last Thanksgiving
What to do for Thanksgiving
We are told to stay at home and eat alone
And only call family on the phone
But as in a time of old, you can have Thanksgiving with the Indians
Go west near Rome at Turning Stone
They’re glad to accept your money, they’ll feed you really well
After all most of you go through life humming “Farmer in the Dell”
It’s easy to be deluded, not look reality in the face
Or believe in global warming or living in outerspace
I have no problem living on the earth
I have a thing for breathing air
But if you want to go all that bad, I really do not care
I often wonder how few will make it halfway there
They must have had some flat tires with their cars
How far is it out to Mars?
Put a sample in this Dixie cup, I’ll test it to see what’s up
Then I’ll finally know it’s not me. The truth will be there in the pee.
So donate to NPR and listen every day, but not to Chartock’s round table
But to composers like Chopin or Faure
In this election there is no confusion, you’re not in a pickle
You’re either pro American flag or the hammer and sickle
Dean Evans, The Outhouse Poet, October 15, 2020
A Rock In The Woods
Well, it wasn’t just any rock….
It was a BIG rock!
I stumbled across it 20 years ago
While deer hunting.
I immediately thought, “What fun to play on this!”
And, then realized it was impossible for me to climb.
But, when I encountered the rock again recently….
I was somehow able to climb to the top of it.
So, today….I visited the big rock again….
This time, with my 8 yr. old Grandson.
With a little of my help, he was able to climb to the top,
And was calling for me to join him.
“Yeah, right”, thought I, but…..
I quickly scrambled up to the top with him.
Getting down was another story:
He pretty much jumped down…I stumbled and crashed down!
Using a rope we had brought along,
My grandson climbed up the rock and down a bazillion times.
Grandpa climbed up and down only a few times
And found himself tired and sore thereafter.
With difficulty, he convinced his grandson
It was time to quit and head for home.
So, after several “Just one last time” climbs,
They trudged back through the woods to Grandpa’s truck.
“Wow…That was so much fun!” said the boy…..
“Can we do it again tomorrow?”
Grandpa’s grimaced response sounded something like,
“SHEESH !!!!!”
Lloyd Barnhart, West Sand Lake