The Second, Second Best Blog

Once upon a time, a 25 year old cowboy was thrown from his horse in a Susanville rodeo. During the ensuing hospital visit, he was taken by a pretty little nurse… and she was both pretty and little, 4′ 11″ to be exact. But then again, all the other single men in the vicinity were [...]

[Read more →]

Where to start? What to say? I left for work early this morning, partly because it was raining, and partly because I had a couple of projects I hoped to finish by year-end. The words in my Inbox demolished that thought: “…cut 3-4 positions…” It seems most everyone who wants voice recording systems either [...]

[Read more →]

This post is especially for the three most faithful readers of the Second, Second Best Blog, each of whom has mentioned the disappointment they experience when checking here and finding nothing new. Sorry. Writing is a rather slow process for me. I have to get kind of worked up about something before the words will [...]

[Read more →]

When I think of home, it’s not the Southern California cookie cutter cracker box that I own today, even though I’ve lived here longer than anywhere else. It’s the old ranch house where my four brothers and I grew up in Lassen County’s Honey Lake Valley, 14 miles east of Susanville, off of U.S. 395. [...]

[Read more →]

The first days and weeks that followed Mom’s death in the summer of ‘60 have faded away to just a few wispy tendrils. I can’t remember who made us breakfast or tucked us in at night, or the hundreds of other tasks involved in managing five boys from 9 to 2. There were groups and [...]

[Read more →]

Christmas in the ’50s was magical. Dad worked for Doyle Motors in Susanville, Mom at the hospital in Herlong. I don’t think there was a lot of money to spare after house payments and groceries for seven. In the days leading up to Christmas my brothers and I would watch the presents accumulate under the [...]

[Read more →]

What is needed in abundance to raise five boys with strong healthy bones and never risk them suffering the effects of rickets, as my father did as a child? Milk. Lots of fresh whole milk. I don’t remember exactly how and when my parents acquired a cow but they did. Even though we lived out [...]

[Read more →]

“Wait a minute Dad”, I said to my father as he began a left turn into the Eldorado Ranch driveway off of US 395, less than a mile west of Standish, California. He was driving the family station wagon, a 1956 Ford Country Squire, with all seven of us aboard. He had been stopped, waiting [...]

[Read more →]