CRANKY OLD MAN
SUCH A GOOD REMINDER
The poem itself has a long and obscure history. The original version featured an old woman rather than an old man and is sometimes attributed to English nurse Phyllis McCormack who reportedly penned it in the 1960's. The "old man" version of the poem was apparently adapted from the original by David L. Griffith of Texas and can be seen in its original context on the poet's website
What do you see? . . .. . .What do you see?
What are you thinking .. . when you're looking at me?
A cranky old man, . . . . . .not very wise,
Uncertain of habit .. . . . . . . .. with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food .. . ... . . and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . .'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice . . .the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . .. . . A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not . . . ... lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . . . .The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking?. .Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse .you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am . . . . .. As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, .. . . . as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten . .with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters .. . . .. . who love one another
A young boy of Sixteen . . . .. with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now . . .. . . a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . ..my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows .. .. .that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now . . . . .I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . .. . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . .. With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me . . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, .. ...Babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children . . . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me . . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future ... . . . . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing .. . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man . . . . . . .. and nature is cruel.
It's jest to make old age . . . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles .. .. . grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone . . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells
I remember the joys . . . . .. . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . . . . . life over again.
I think of the years, all too few . . .. gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people .. . . . .. . . open and see.
Not a cranky old man .
Look closer . . . . see .. .. . .. .... . ME!!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SON
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY SON!"
We won't make too big of a deal about this, as that would not be in Danny's style. However Robin and I wish to make it known, how grateful we are to be Danny's parents. We so appreciate his unselfish willingness to make a difference in people's lives. And we love seeing growth in him. We are proud of you young man. May God abundantly bless you.
Lend a helping...
So many willing to extend a helping hand, paw, hoof to anyone who needed one today here at the ranch.
EASTER DINNER
We enjoyed this very special day with a special lady. Grandma Ellen Paulton invited the Reinhold family to her house for dinner... and a fine meal it was. We paused to take a pic before we left. We drove in rain all the way home from Hot Springs. We were surprised by how much rain we had received here on the Lonetree Ranch.... measured .62" of rain. Water continues to flow. :)... and grass is beginning to grow.
Facebook Post and comments from April 2019
Chuck Loftis Let the Man of God point out the worldliness in the local church and he is called a legalist; judgmental; a Pharisee. Let the Man of God be intolerant of sin in his church and his congregants flee to another church that preaches a cheap grace. Let the Man of God call for corporate prayer and fasting; instruct his church in how Jesus taught us to pray; hold weekly prayer meetings and he and the vast minority will remain quite lonely. Schedule a concert; host a comedian; throw a congregational party of some sort - with food, of course - and the building is packed. This is a.k.a., "How to increase your church attendance in the 21st Century."
Larry Robin Reinhold Wow Chuck... This nails it. We will be in prayer for you and your congregation today.
Chuck Loftis thanks a million! We've got a faithful bunch who call this congregation "home."
Denzel NonhofI have had many opportunities to visit various churches over the years, and I agree with you. Churches which will do almost anything to get the butts in the pews may be forgetting that it is the power of prayer and the dedication and witness of those in that church which is truly important. There is nothing as powerful for witness as a life transformed by the Lord Jesus Christ through the power and presence of the Holy Spirit.
Jim Petty also commented
...The organized CHURCH...has become benign...as STRONGLY evidenced by the moral and ethical decline in America!! Let us invite and allow the LORD JESUS to be the True Head of His 'church'...and, the Corporate Churches' throughout America!! The mandates and ideals of "man" are futile...and will ONE DAY BE JUDGED GUILTY!! So Sorry it is necessary, to make this comment...yet, it is TRUE!
Robin and I Invite You...
I was struck by the thought of resemblance of the beautiful moon in the night sky and the open tomb that remained after Christ's resurrection. Jesus death provided hope of salvation and the open tomb was proof that the ultimate sacrifice of the Lamb of God was sufficient. The empty tomb is truly a light in the darkness.
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JESUS DID NOT STAY DEAD... AND HE IS ALIVE TODAY.
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If you have not turned to Jesus Christ for the hope of eternal salvation, Robin and I would encourage you to do so today.
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GOD LOVES YOU
For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.
(John 3:16)
GOD HAS A WONDERFUL PLAN FOR YOUR LIFE
I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.
(John 10:10b)
BECAUSE OF OUR SIN WE ARE SEPARATED FROM GOD
For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.
(Romans 3:23)
THE PENALTY FOR OUR SIN IS DEATH
For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Jesus Christ our Lord.
(Romans 6:23)
THE PENALTY FOR OUR SIN WAS PAID FOR BY JESUS CHRIST
But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.
(Romans 5:8)
IF WE REPENT OF OUR SIN, THEN CONFESS AND TRUST JESUS CHRIST AS OUR LORD AND SAVIOR WE WILL BE SAVED FROM OUR SINS.
For whoever calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.
(Romans 10:13)
...if you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation.
(Romans 10:9,10)
We need the snow...
The first picture was from Sunday.... the second is from today from the drone. Amazing.
RIDERS AT DUSK
SPRING FEVER
"It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want - oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!" ~Mark Twain
KIERSTEN... "THE SCHOOLMARM"
It is just so difficult to get those brothers of mine to "enjoy" school on these nice days. My mother certainly has her hands full.
CALEB REINHOLD... IN THE SPIRIT OF WILL ROGERS
MY DAD AND SWIFT
This photo is Tige Reinhold on the Lonetree Ranch around 60 years ago. I love the bright color of this image taken from a 35 mm color slide. The horse's name is Swift. Pretty typical of the saddle horse of that day. Dad broke a lot of horses. Several of the Reinhold brothers had quite the reputations with horses. Except Carl, the oldest son of Emanuel and Hazel Reinhold, (my uncle) He told me that he lost his love for riding because in those early days there were no fences and when it was time to get the milch cows in...He would at times ride nearly to Elk Creek at times. That was six miles away... :) Carl, Uncle Dick, as I knew him was known to be quite a story teller. :) Earl (Tom) and my Dad (Tige) were probably the cowboys. To make a good horse...you rode. "Wet saddle blankets make good horses," Dad would say.
PRETTY GOOD CREW
We realize there are many activities that our children could be involved in. However, we like this one the best. Learning life, doing chores and understanding the need of working together. Caleb, Julia and Kiersten stayed busy this afternoon... Pretty good crew.
PHOTO BY ROBIN LEE REINHOLD
THE THRESHING CREW
Who remembers the "Threshing Crew"? Or how about playing in the remnants of the giant straw piles?
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I was able to observe the threshing machines at work and the people that operated them. I was very young when the last threshing machine was replaced by the combines in the early 1960's. Dad told about working with the neighbors and in particular, stories of working with the John Keffeler family during Harvest. He told of shoveling grain to the back of the barn for the Henrick's family. He didn't care for the shoveling there as much as he enjoyed the screened in porch after a day's work and the men ate on that porch and the breezes blew through... and very few flies. But his favorite story of threshing was how he got his team and wagon when he was quite young. He was always a big guy and he liked his horses. So to have a team was nearly the top of the ladder. He would hurry out into the field and pitch the bundles on and then hurry and get his wagon in line. He would have a short breather before he pulled his team up and then he would pitch his bundles of wheat or oats into the never satisfied and ravaging jaws of the McCormick Threshing Machine.
Threshing was a team effort. It took a lot of labor and working together to get the job done. I really like the photos along with this post. I believe the young lady with the draft horse is Mabel Keffeler McPherson and the young man with the tractor and truck is Maurice Keffeler. And look at the size of the straw pile You didn't dare climb on it until it settled. But when it did... They were great places to play. The last one on the place remained a remnant of the giant it once was into the mid 80's. And yes... whether you were threshing or just playing... the straw and chaff sure had a way of making you itch all over.
FRIEND
Photo by Robin Lee Reinhold
The sound of distant chimes is probably the best way to describe the melody that is played. When the ice starts going out on a river, the song may be loud and boisterous. Certainly many describe it as a roar; however, when around a pond or lake, there is a different song. Each morning there may be a new sheet of ice that reappeared when the night time lows fall below freezing and the daytime highs are attempting to vanquish the frozen, rock hard reminder of winter. I prefer the soft jingle, or perhaps one may say it is the “aquaorchestra” that is playing for the morning sun in the gentle breeze.
Oh, I am not claiming to have listened to this music for a lifetime, but I do remember when I started to lend an ear. I remember the spring well. And my friend helped me realize the beauty and freshness of the song. As we walked the shoreline, I must say that his fervor for life was helping me to overcome the enduring and nagging pain of death.
His senses and exuberance for the song and setting amused me. I walked much slower than he; nevertheless, the melody awakened my spirit and the melancholy was replaced by an attitude of appreciation.
My reaction to the hushed rippling of the waves, with the exception of the ice song, never did come to the same level as his. My friend would literally chase the waves, racing the foam and the ice, seemingly desiring more than just the relaxing music. I laughed inside at first and then aloud, as he would nip at the next incoming wave, catching it in satisfaction and not being the least bothered that his face was all wet.
Shep was an amazing friend. Oh, did I not mention that my friend was a dog?
My mistake…
Shep was a beautiful English Collie. He was an adult when we acquired him, but we did give him a name that was preferred by us.
Shep. Sort of an ordinary name for a dog, I realize. The name is not as common now as it once was. But for me at the time, it was the perfect name. We had another dog named Shep when I was a young boy. He was a Norwegian Elkhound (mostly). He was brown in color with the characteristic curly tail. I shared him with my brothers, Lyle and Lee. Oh, I suppose Dad and Mom enjoyed him as well and perhaps my sister did, too. But, I always figured he was sort of “us boys'” dog.
So this English Collie received the name Shep as well. But in those days of walking the water’s edge, it was sort of him and me. I know Lana liked him, but she was still in school, and I am sure my brothers would have liked him…
But Lyle and Lee were not available to walk that shoreline with me in those days.
Lyle and Lee had finished their walk on earth. And it was here at this body of water that they stepped into glory with Jesus, just a few years earlier.
I cannot say that I was pondering that moment of death while I was listening to the song of the ice crystals. I do know that my life on this earth has never been the same. I also know the value of someone to walk with in the days following life altering events. I also know that it takes someone special to help one to hear the music as life goes on.
I am so grateful for Someone else that has walked with me continually through this life. Jesus has never let me down and I know that He has helped me be aware of His presence in each day and the hope of each new tomorrow.
My friend Shep continued to encourage not only me, but other family members as well. One day, a magazine salesman came to the ranch. He was the kind that would not take no for an answer. As he finally left in a certain amount of carelessness, his vehicle hit my friend. The salesperson never even stopped. Perhaps he did it out of innocence. I talked to my friend and assessed his situation…His leg and foot were crushed. It was not good. That would be my friend’s last day.
My heart was broken and I was angry. I never saw the salesperson again, which was probably for the best.
Over the last days of spring thaw, I have been hearing the song that Shep and I so enjoyed, and I have been reminded of my Friend Who has always been with me when others slip away into eternity. Perhaps the melody of the ice crystals would blend well with the old hymn…
What a Friend we have in Jesus,
All our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry
Everything to God in prayer!
O what peace we often forfeit,
O what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry
Everything to God in prayer!
Have we trials and temptations?
Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged,
Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Can we find a friend so faithful
Who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness,
Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Are we weak and heavy-laden,
Cumbered with a load of care?
Precious Savior, still our refuge—
Take it to the Lord in prayer;
Do thy friends despise, forsake thee?
Take it to the Lord in prayer;
In His arms He’ll take and shield thee,
Thou wilt find a solace there.
The Hymn "What a Friend" written by Joseph Scriven.
GRANDPA BANGERT AND HIS PATROL
Working the winter of 1949
My mother, Voreta (Vicky Bangert Reinhold) was raised in Bon Homme County, South Dakota in the small town of Avon.
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Her Dad, Walter Bangert, (in the photos).... had been a farmer, worked a service station and spent most of his career operating a patrol in this southeastern corner of South Dakota. As I hear the stories of weather and flooding across our region, I think of Grandpa Bangert. Stories, he would tell, of the winter of 49 and emergencies that he would be called out on play over in my mind.
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One story that he enjoyed telling is when he and another county employee went down along the Missouri River bottoms and were asked to drain flooded areas. They went out in a boat with a load of dynamite and a potato planter. As they paddled their way across flood waters, they calculated where a trench was needed. They would take the potato planter and plunge it into the water and mud and then proceed to drop a stick of dynamite in the hole. They did this in a long line and then would go to the beginning where they would detonate the first of the line and in rapid fire succession the exploding dynamite would lay back a wall of water and mud thus forming a trench to drain the backed up water. Grandpa, well into his nineties, would conclude his story with a smirk and comment, "That was fun!"
GOD'S WORD IN MY LIFE
I am so thankful that God's Word is not only a part of my life and heritage... God's Word has molded my life and heritage. That is my dad, Tige Reinhold, standing in the middle of the front row. This Bible Instruction Class was extremely important in the Reinhold family. Dad would tell of when he was young, attending services at the one room school house conducted by traveling "circuit rider" preachers. The American Sunday School Union conducted many of the services. My mother, Vicky, was also brought up in a home that read the Bible and adhered to biblical principle. I will share her story another time.
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How can a young man cleanse his way? By taking heed according to Your word. With my whole heart I have sought You; Oh, let me not wander from Your commandments! Your word I have hidden in my heart, that I might not sin against You!
Psalm 119:9-11
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All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, II Timothy 2:16
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When I was a child, my parents gave me a Bible with the following verse written in the front cover....
Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9
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"HOW IMPORTANT IS GOD'S WORD IN YOUR HOME?"
"IS IT VITAL TO THE WELLBEING OF YOUR FAMILY?"
PLAYING WITH FIRE
Photo by Robin Lee Reinhold
Graphics by Larry Reinhold
