country poetry & more

Son of a Gunn

2009-12-26T05:04:00.000-08:00

Here is a good example of the "accidents" that keep happening to me. I received this poem from a Matthews cousin-in-law, and only had to add an "n" to Son of a Gun to make it fit our family perfectly, even the part about Daddy playing the fiddle. I sent it out to my e-mail list and got more positive responses than from any of my own poetry. The author is that prolific writer, Anonymous, and if anyone knows where it originated, please let me know.

Merry Christmas to All!

'Twas the night before Christmas
& out on the ranch
The pond was froze over
& so was the branch.
The snow was piled up
belly-deep to a mule.
The kids were all home
on vacation from school,
And happier young folks
you never did see-
Just all sprawled around
a-watchin' TV.
Then suddenly, some time
around 8 o'clock,
There came a surprise
that gave them a shock!
The power went off,
the TV went dead!
When Grandpa came in
from out in the shed
With an armload of wood,
the house was all dark.
"Just what I expected,"
they heard him remark.
"Them power line wires
must be down from the snow.
Seems sorta like times
on the ranch long ago."
"I'll hunt up some candles,"
said Mom. "With their light,
And the fireplace, I reckon
we'll make out all right."
The teen-agers seemed
all enveloped in gloom.
Then Grandpa came back
from a trip to his room,
Uncased his old fiddle
& started to play
That old Christmas song
about bells on a sleigh.
Mom started to sing,
& 1st thing they knew
Both Pop & the kids
were all singing it, too.
They sang Christmas carols,
they sang "Holy Night,"
Their eyes all a-shine
in the ruddy firelight.
They played some charades
Mom recalled from her youth,
And Pop read a passage
from God's Book of Truth.
They stayed up till midnight-
and, would you believe,
The youngsters agreed
'twas a fine Christmas Eve.
Grandpa rose early,
some time before dawn;
And when the kids wakened,
the power was on.
"The power company sure got
the line repaired quick,"
Said Grandpa - & no one
suspected his trick.
Last night, for the sake of
some old-fashioned fun,
He had pulled the main switch -
the old Son-of-a-Gunn!

Cora Gail Gunn Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

An Old Friendship Reborn

2009-10-09T22:44:00.000-07:00

As a farm child, the best entertainment I remember was riding our daily bale of cotton to the gin where I loved the sights, sounds and smells of machinery turning 2000 pounds of boles into a 500 pound package of white fluff. We kids were allowed to roam the inside of the building and watch the ginning process, having enough common sense not to stick a hand or foot into the dangerous machinery. Imagine that happening today!
Recently I had the chance to tour a modern gin and see how computers and a half century of experience have revolutionized the industry. For me it was better than Las Vegas and Disneyland rolled into one. Well, maybe that is just a country assumption, as I’ve never seen (nor care to see) either one.
A life-long friend, Rex Johnson, started his ginning career 53 years ago when 100 bales could be ginned in a 12-hour shift. Today his much improved equipment and a handful of knowledgeable workers can turn out 100 bales (fully compacted) per hour. He furnishes module builders to the farmers so there is no need for trailers that have to be pulled to the gin by farm wives like me. His trucks may drive 50 miles or more to retrieve the modules, as his is the only gin in the area. In my day, each small town had at least one gin. Flomot (where we both grew up) had two.
As an added bonus to the guided tour, the richness of a reborn friendship has emerged, and in our long, pleasant visit I even learned some new things about my dad’s last years in farming. Old age can be quite an adventure!

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

A Love-Molded Heart

2009-09-12T00:57:00.000-07:00

A Love-Molded Heart

The old fool no longer seeks knowledge
and follows his own winding way.
A self-centered life is a wasted life
where “do your own thing” holds sway.
Contentment is elusive,
authority reviled,
with maturity reverting to
the thinking of a child.
For the goodly favor of God and man,
kindness and truth must be sought,
keeping close within the heart
those things that Christ has taught,
growing in his wisdom
as he writes on our tablets of clay,
creating positive patterns
that mold our lives day-by-day.
Depending on his counsel
in all aspects of life,
we will make the righteous choices
that prevent mayhem and strife.
We don’t have to wander the drunken path
that takes us nowhere fast,
aging prematurely
while running from our past.
God is a pillar to lean on,
dependable, strong, secure .
Acknowledge him in all your ways,
forever to endure.
There true prosperity is found,
the deep veined gems of peace.
Total confidence he offers
in his gift of full release.
Obedience to his perfect will
heals body, mind and soul.
Generosity of spirit
brings us closer to the goal.
Open hearted, open handed,
grasping nothing as our own,
nothing clutters up our vision
as we race home toward his throne.

From a sermon by Roger Holm

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

More Than Conquerors

2009-07-04T06:11:00.000-07:00

More Than Conquerors

The stronger we are in Christ, the greater trophy kill for Satan.
His greatest challenge is a faithful soul.
Ten days of trial for the church tested those at Smyrna,
but “faithful unto death” would be their goal.
Ten times poor Jacob’s wages were changed by crafty Laban,
yet Jacob flourished with God’s tender care.
Accused ten times by his best friends, Job’s patience stood the test,
and greater blessings yet God would declare.
When we travel the road of adversity, the Lord helps carry our load
and as our faith is focused, vision clears.
There is eternal purpose in the discipline of saints,
seen better through a mist of sweat and tears.
Adversity can show us just where we stand in Christ,
yet is limited in harshness by his love.
We can stand more than we think, though our bodies may be frail.
Strength and wisdom fall like showers from above.
Self will is not sufficient to produce a saintly soul.
It takes a lifetime with the Master Potter.
After being broken many times, the final state is best,
secure from Satan, evil’s master plotter.
Now is the time to use our faith in a brand new way.
Unnecessary traits will have to go.
The negative can bring us down, old fears can paralyze.
Exercise will help faith’s muscles start to grow,
overcoming fear that just projects the worst scenario.
Clean out that space, let confidence move in.
Let God strip off the grimy layers of defeat and pain,
expose the hidden beauty of your grin.
As Joseph was shaped through hardship beyond his normal self,
God pushes us to limits past our dreams,
brings out the best that we can be, the image of our Savior,
by using wisely Satan’s wildest schemes.
Winning is a habit, not a one-time act,
requiring every fiber of our being
True soldiers are made in the heat of battle, and the battle belongs to the Lord.
We’re conquerors of worlds beyond our seeing.

Cora Gail Trent
From a sermon by Roger Holm

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Stepping Outside Decorum

2009-03-31T09:36:00.000-07:00

Stepping Outside Decorum

“A man after God’s own heart” was David, Israel’s king.
Relocating the ark of the covenant made him dance with joy and sing.
Wife Michal was embarrassed at this undignified celebration,
inappropriate for his regal position as head of God’s chosen nation.
King David’s response to Michal? “I celebrate here with God
and will do even more ridiculous things than dance in a priest’s ephod.”

“But everything shall be done in a fitting and orderly way.”
Do we sometimes take this scripture beyond its intent today?
Worship can become like a funeral when spontaneity dies,
choking out vitality and joy, enthusiasm, surprise.
We can’t stand any type of change, must stay in our old rut
that soon becomes much like a grave, our minds and hearts long shut.

Christ stepped outside decorum in his ministry on earth,
gave a whole new view of compassion, exploding into rebirth.
He shocked the scribes and Pharisees by touching a loathsome leper.
The paralytic healed on the Sabbath became an instant high stepper.
Levi, a hated tax collector, extorter, Jewish traitor
was chosen as a disciple and became an apostle later.

Forerunner of the coming Christ was his country cousin, John,
who lived out in the wilderness, no normal clothes to don.
Eating locusts and wild honey, and never drinking wine,
he served in his own peculiar way, which seemed quite out of line.
He oft was called a nut and maybe crazy as a loon,
but he believed God’s promise that the Christ was coming soon.

We should enjoy the Christian walk, not stifle our spark of life
in dignified stoicism with no happy trumpet or fife.
New converts’ enthusiasm often is put to death
by the old and staid and cynical before it can hardly draw breath.
We must examine ourselves each day, our motives to discern,
looking for ways to grow and change, never too tired to learn.

Do we encourage, like Barnabas? Gladly suffer like Paul?
Give aid to the poor and downtrodden with their backs against the wall?
Can we dance with joy like David, or act like his hateful wife?
Rededicate, rejoice, re-spark, reclaim a redeemed new life.
God gave us a song; we should dare to sing and praise the sacrifice
he gave for our salvation–victorious Jesus Christ!

Cora Gail Trent
From a sermon by Neil Swain

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Drivers Beware!

2009-03-20T18:43:00.000-07:00

I thought I had heard it all. Uncanny is a mind that enjoys causing misery to others, and I have learned to be glad I don’t understand it.

Our son-in-law had only a small sports car, so when he needed to take his large, crippled dad to Arizona, I suggested he use our minivan. But we didn’t think to tell him about the back doors that didn’t always lock electronically. After his return, someone in his neighborhood discovered this little loophole, crawled over the seats and unlocked the hood.

Later, when we started to town, the brakes began to lock down. Our excellent neighborhood mechanics found a foreign substance in the brake fluid, evidently put there by some malicious malcontent. It melted all the seals in the brake system, requiring a very costly repair job. When the fluid was poured into a jar, it separated like oil and water, so the insurance adjuster agreed that this was vandalism, and Allstate paid all our expenses. Similar cases were reported in Albuquerque.

Driver beware; lock your doors!!

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

The Most Amazing Creature on Earth

2009-03-09T09:26:00.000-07:00

The Most Amazing Creature on Earth

If you were asked to nominate a form of life to be given the title of “most amazing creature on the earth,” what would be your choice? In this column, we have explained some pretty bizarre creatures over the 30+ years we have been writing. Some have been amazing in beauty, some in strength, some in what they can endure, and some in what they provide for us and other forms of life on the earth.

Cyanobacteria is the oldest form of life to appear in the fossil record. These life forms were present shortly after the earth was created, and they have come through time unchanged. The forms living today look no different than their ancestor from the beginning of the earth’s history. Evolution has not happened to cyanobacteria. In addition to this, they are the most resilient of all life forms on this planet. We find them in hot springs, in ice capped Antarctic lakes, in barren deserts, inside rocks, at the bottom of the oceans, and even in nuclear reactors.

Dr. Donald Bryant at Penn State University has detailed the reason for the resiliency of cyanobacteria. (1) Their nutritional needs are extremely simple. “All they need is light, CO2 and mineral salts like iron, phosphate, or sulfur.” (2) They can get along without water for huge periods of time—up to thousands of years. (3) They can adapt to all kinds of environments.

What is cyanobacteria good for? Well, for one thing, it has produced 20% of the oxygen in our atmosphere. Cyanobacteria provides a basis for all other life forms on this planet, concentrating nutrients and providing a foundation on which all other life functions. Cyano-80-80 bacteria can repair radiation damage, and they can stabilize other cells around them. They are getting a lot of attention from NASA because they may be useful in the colonization of other places in the solar system. And what is cyanobacteria? You know it as pond scum. These amazing creatures are part of the design of the whole biological system of the earth. They not only provide oxygen, but form the base of the food chain nourishing all forms of animal life. Scientists speak of pond scum “inventing photosynthesis,” but mindless bacteria do not invent. They are carefully designed and planned life forms that provided the foundation upon which all other living things exist. They speak eloquently of the planning and engineering that allow life to exist.

Source: “Scientists See Amazing Saga in Pond Scum” by Robert Boyd, South Bend Tribune, March 18, 1999.

—John Clayton, Dandy Designs, July/August, 2000

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Gardens of Suffering

2009-01-30T02:04:00.000-08:00

Gardens of Suffering

Sweat drops of blood wet Jesus’ brow, as in the garden he prayed,

yet he endured the cross with joy, for there our souls were saved.

The weight of our sins was agony, too much for a mortal man,

but he gladly shouldered all the blame, working God’s eternal plan.

Partaking of his body is to share his righteous goal.

To weekly drink his precious blood is cleansing to the soul.

Remembering the sacrifice so gladly offered there,

with humility and thankfulness, we breathe an earnest prayer

that we will gladly suffer the death of our own will

to follow in the path he trod up Golgotha’s hill.

Before producing any fruit, a kernel of grain must die.

Continuing in our selfishness is His love to deny.

In baptism we are buried with Christ and raised to start anew

as saints and priest in the kingdom, fresh as the morning dew.

The gift of the Spirit revives us, nourishing new life within,

no longer burdened with the guilty verdict for our sin.

The cross represents redemption, the empty tomb our hope.

Though we can’t explain all that happens to us, we have a telescope

that helps us see the outcome, the victory in Christ,

eternal bliss in heaven bought by his sacrifice.

We have different ways to share the Bible’s news of resurrection--

Reasoning and common sense are great for introspection.

We can teach by testimony of how our lives were changed

by the Spirit’s sweet in-dwelling, our thinking rearranged.

Like the Samaritan woman at the well, we can invite–Come see!

Or by serving others, like Dorcas, or Jesus on bended knee.

Only by showing that we care will folks care what we know.

In dying to self and living for Christ, we can his righteousness show,

planting the seed of grace and truth in the garden of the heart.

By discipline and example we can His love impart.

Cora Gail Trent

(From a sermon by Roger Holm)

Cora Gail Trent

www.cgtrent.com

cgtrent@att.net

Christian Growth

2008-12-03T08:06:00.000-08:00

Christian Growth

After Israel received the law
to civilize their clan
and make their worship holy to the Lord,
it was time for moving forward,
not just to sit and listen,
though conquering new lands was very hard.
Do we fail to leave the mountain
and put action in our prayers?
Examine self and find the weaker links.
Do the same things keep on conquering
my will year after year?
Perhaps I fail because my thinking stinks!
Trust God for the necessities,
but go out and gather manna
that he provides so lavishly each day.
Exercise discernment,
move forward in his service.
Make haste; put faith to work without delay.
Use the Father’s word to tighten
the few screws you may have loose,
revering and respecting his great name.
Stay focused on his holiness,
avoiding earth’s ambitions.
The race of righteousness is not a game!
Don’t flirt with sin like Samson,
know your vulnerabilities.
Ask and receive a pure and honest heart.
Come to the Lord for cleansing,
stay close beneath his wings
and his tender, loving care will ne’er depart.

From a sermon by Roger Holm

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Can We Benefit from a Parent's Death?

2008-11-06T13:20:00.000-08:00

After writing a book about my late husband’s manic/depression, and meeting so many people with similar problems, I began to wonder about the accepted conclusion that the illness is wholly genetic. It is definitely not as rare as I had thought, found to some degree in almost every family I come across.

Recently I have been reading and re-reading a new book by Jeanne Safer, Ph. D. called Death Benefits. Starting with her own autobiography, it relates story after story of how the death of a controlling parent, especially mothers, releases the new “orphans” to become the real persons they were meant to be. Even acute paranoid schizophrenics have recovered from their illnesses within weeks of their mothers’ deaths. Wow!

The opening of this book is a quote from Auberon Waugh: “Perhaps nobody is completely grown-up until both his parents are dead.” Somehow this thought gives me comfort. Maybe my death will have as much or more meaning than my life.

I have tried to think of myself as the mirror image of Mama, who was so easy to get along with, but must now face the fact that I also have a big part of Daddy in my make-up, the negative know-it-all attitude that made me resent him for so long. Although that has lessened with age, it played a big part in the raising of my kids and affects who they are today.

Thank you, Dr. Safer!

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

"Farmer Boy"

2008-10-26T18:53:00.000-07:00

Turkey, Texas, 1993. I had published my first book of country poems and rented a booth at Bob Wills Day. Along comes a guy looking for a place to sit and rest, and I made a new friend, Lin Wilson from Ohio. He visited awhile, bought a book, went out to his car and read the whole thing, then came back for more visiting. He was also a writer and promised to send a copy of his book, "Farmer Boy." We have been corresponding ever since.

Lin was the youngest of 13 children, and is now the only one still living, age 80. He and wife Mary did a lot of traveling as long as they were able, but that day in Turkey was the only time I ever saw him. I'm sorry I never met Mary, as she is one of my heroes, a nurse. Lin also did volunteer work at the nursing home where she served her fellow man until just a few years ago.

Lin wrote a newspaper column, mostly about things he saw from his window, or memories from childhood on the small Ohio farm. I have some of his columns, plus letters and e-mails, which I cherish because we seem to have so much in common. He likes to read my poems about Texas rattlesnakes to his grandchildren.

I hope you have a special friend like Lin Wilson who is proud to be a "Farmer Boy."

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

The Only Lord

2008-10-19T02:59:00.000-07:00

The Only Lord

(Isaiah 45)

Woe to him who quarrels with his Maker,
with statements of Scripture so plain,
using human intelligence, the viewpoint of man
whose standards and morals are vain.
Does the clay say to the potter,
“Let me tell you what to make”?
Woe to him who tells his parents,
“Begetting me was a mistake”.
You are but a broken potsherd,
just a piece, not even whole.
Dare you now advise the Maker
who designed your earthly role?
Says the Holy One of Israel:
It is I who made the earth;
I created man upon it,
and a woman to give birth.
My own hands stretched out the heavens,
marshaled all their starry hosts.
Would you give me working orders,
of superior knowledge boast?
I am God of all creation,
fashioned earth and all therein,
so that it would not be empty,
spoke that life could there begin.
I am Lord; there is no other.
I speak truth, declare what’s right.
I’m a righteous God, a Savior,
redeeming souls from endless night.
Every knee will bow at judgment,
by me every tongue will swear:
“Only in the Lord is righteousness.”
No atheist argues there!
All spiritual descendents of Israel will exult;
the faithful of all nations, every race,
will bask with him in glory and praise his holy name
for the freedom shared through his amazing grace.

From a sermon by Lane Brown

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Idol Worship

2008-10-16T09:03:00.001-07:00

Idol Worship
(Isaiah 44)

All who make idols are nothing,
as worthless as their name.
Those who would speak for them are blind
and ignorant, to their own shame.
Who shapes an idol with his hands
and calls his art a god?
A mortal’s work is powerless
as a shapeless old dirt clod.
He wastes his time who casts an idol,
profits not a thing,
except to sell it to a fool,
another ding-a-ling.
The blacksmith heats the metal
and pounds it into shape,
with muscles, forge and hammer,
til his mouth begins to gape.
He loses strength from hunger,
of thirst he faints away,
unlike the God who formed the world
and over it holds sway.
The carpenter measures with a line
and marks the work he plans;
he roughs it out with chisels
and shapes it with his hands.
Cedar or cypress or oak he cuts,
the fuel for his fire.
With some of it he warms himself
or cooks, as needs require.
But he also carves an idol
from the same tree God provides
and prays for help to this block of wood,
preferring to believe a lie.
A deluded heart misleads him;
no god but the Lord can save.
Only Christ our blest Redeemer
has power o’er the grave.

From a sermon by Lane Brown

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Absolute Determination

2008-10-06T11:15:00.000-07:00

Absolute Determination

We each are a part of God's purpose
since the very dawn of creation.
Inexpressible is his wisdom,
awe-inspiring his great revelation.
Praise and magnify his glory, then
get down to the business at hand.
The gospel's mystery has been revealed
to all who would understand.
The secrets that angels and prophets
desired so long to know
are now available in his Word,
his love and redemption to show.
He lavishes us with priceless gifts--
salvation through his blood.
His blessings flow like water,
a never-ending flood.
We share in his precious promises
as descendants of Abraham.
Our purpose and focus transcend the earth,
turning it upside down.
Like the early disciples, we boldly proclaim
the gospel to bring others hope.
With fervor and zeal, a cause greater than self,
life now has a much broader scope.
What the world really needs is what we possess
in Christ, our redeemer and friend.
To eat, sleep and dream adoration to him
is the way of the world to upend.

From a sermon by Roger Holm

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Israel the Chosen

2008-10-04T14:58:00.000-07:00

Isaiah 44
From a Sermon by Lane Brown

Secular, national Israel had disobeyed the Lord,
was cut off from the help of God on high,
but the faithful remnant who remain are called new Israel,
the spiritual Jews, Abraham personified.
Now listen, O Jacob, my servant, my chosen Israel,
this is what the Lord says; harken now to him
who made you, formed you in the womb, and helps you in your trials,
who lights the way when your own lamp grows dim.
Do not be afraid, O Jacob, Jeshurun, the righteous one.
I will pour water on the thirsty land;
pour out my Spirit on your many offspring in the faith,
lead them to safety with my own right hand.
Prolifically they will spring up like grass out in the meadow,
like poplar trees beside the living stream.
The Word of God will nourish them, to keep them green and supple,
with blessings well beyond their wildest dreams.
One will say, “I belong to the Sovereign Lord,”
another will take Jacob’s name,
still another will write on his hand, “The Lord’s”;
they are Israel, all the same.
I am Israel’s King and Redeemer;
the Lord Almighty am I.
I am the first and I am the last,
the God of earth and sky.
There is no other god but me;
who else can lay a claim?
Let him declare and prove his might,
put forward his great name.
Let him foretell what is to come,
the future prophesy
as I have done since ancient times,
which no one can deny.
Another Rock does not exist;
no, I’m the only one,
a haven for my children,
those adopted through my Son.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Israel Blind and Deaf

2008-09-22T03:54:00.000-07:00

(From Isaiah 42, as taught by Lane Brown)

Hear the word of the Lord, you deaf;
look, you blind, and see!
Who is blind but my servant, Israel,
and deaf to my every plea?
You have seen many things my hands have wrought,
the miracles and blessings I send,
but your blind eyes have paid no attention;
your ear I’m unable to bend.
It pleased the Lord in his wisdom,
for the sake of his righteousness,
to make his law great and glorious,
his obedient children to bless.
But this is a people plundered
and looted because of their sin,
trapped in pits or hidden in prison;
without God there’s no way to win.
His discipline aims at repentance,
to show you the need for his love,
but you turn a deaf ear to his teachers,
the prophets he guides from above.
Which of you will pay close attention
to the history of your clan?
Who handed Jacob over as loot
and Israel as plunder again?
Was it not the Lord of heaven?
For they would not follow his ways.
They chose not to obey his law,
have rebelled through endless days.
So he poured out his anger upon them,
the violence of war.
It enveloped them in consuming flames,
but they did not take it to heart.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Joy of the Redeemed

2008-09-20T08:16:00.000-07:00

(Isaiah 35)
*700 years before Christ, his church is revealed.*

The dry, parched desert will be glad, the wilderness rejoice.
Like a crocus, it will blossom, and shout with joyous voice.
It will know the splendor of Lebanon, of Sharon and Carmel,
will see the glory of the Lord in his New Israel.
Strengthen the hands that are feeble, steady knees that might give way;
say to those with fearful hearts, “God will save you on that day.”
He will come with wrath and vengeance on those who know him not,
but grace and mercy will be poured on the faithful he begot.
The eyes of the blind will be opened, the ears of the deaf will hear,
the tongue of the dumb will shout for joy, the lame will leap like a deer.
Gushing forth in the spiritual wilderness will be the water of life.
Like a stream in the desert, a bubbling spring will warble like a fife.
The burning sand will become a pool to quench the soul’s long thirst,
with new growth sprouting everywhere, as though the ground had burst.
A highway will be opened there, the Way of Holiness,
a raised road up to heaven, the route to endless bliss.
The unclean will not journey there, only those who walk with God.
No wicked fools go about on it, as the low road they have trod.
No ferocious beast is found there upon the freedom way.
Its travelers will have no fear as they walk from day to day.
Only the ransomed, the redeemed tread safely on to glory,
singing joyously to spread the word, to tell salvation’s story.
“I am the way, the truth and the life,” said Jesus long ago.
“None comes to the Father but by me.” — Just what we need to know!
All prophecy was fulfilled in Christ as his banner was unfurled.
Greater is he who is in us than he who is in the world.
To us is revealed the mystery Isaiah didn’t understand.
We are very blest in these last days to be led by the Master’s hand.
To us belong the scourging, the stripes, the pain, the shame
that Jesus bore so lovingly as he took all the blame.
We who wear his name should live like him in humble servitude,
with thankful hearts that plainly show our deepest gratitude.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Edgewood, New Mexico

2008-09-01T08:33:00.000-07:00

Edgewood, New Mexico is a rather new and unusual town with a few businesses located along I-40 and old Route 66, others scattered along state highway 344 north, and homes with spacious acreage as far as the eye can see. Country schools and churches abound, and a small airport has residential property near the landing strip, each house with its own attached hangar. Besides a community center which includes a skate part for kids, a comfortable senior center offers daily lunches and an interesting variety of activities. A medical clinic, library and other necessities ensure enough independence from the nearby city of Albuquerque to promote a feeling of peace and harmony in the close-knit community.

The latest addition to local fun was an impressive Saturday parade down a mile or so of highway 344, ending at the wildlife park for entertainment and food. Horses and tractors, old vehicles and marching bands combined for a short-lived spectacle and photo opportunities. One float carried a beautiful little filly recently rescued after an apparent attack by dogs immediately after birth, nursed back to health by a couple of girls who took turns feeding her every two hours, day and night. Being such a fighter, she was named Holly Holm, for a local boxing champion.

The best feature of the parade was my youngest son, Jay, driving his dad’s favorite toy, an old Farmall tractor with the shredder he uses to mow his two acres of grass and weeds, plus some for neighbors and friends. He also has a blade to take care of the neighborhood gravel road, especially handy in winter to remove snow, which makes him the most popular guy around.

For an old farm gal, the freedom of country living is one of the bonuses of old age. If this is a dream, don’t disturb my sleep!

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Harry's Farmall

2008-08-25T08:17:00.000-07:00

Playing Farmer

The hardest part of quitting the active role of farming
was parting with our friend, the big White tractor.
It served us well thru thick and thin, for richer or for poorer,
when costly break-downs could have been a factor.
A farmer can’t give up his old ways overnight, you know,
needs something of the past to pacify him.
A wife both wise and loving supports his little whims,
would not stand in his way or dare defy him.
He bought a little Farmall, now old and past its prime,
to mow the yard and drag the gravel driveway,
a toy that he could play with and show off to his grandkids,
no farming, though, no gardening, no payday.
They say the only difference, when push may come to shove,
between the grown-up men and little boys
is not so much their stature or amount of worldly wisdom,
but mostly in the size of costly toys.

Harry built a three-point hitch for the 1948 model International so he could use the shredder and blade at the farm. There the young grandsons loved to try their hands at driving. His last big job after moving to the mountains and selling the farm was to bring the tractor and the framework of an old iron-wheeled wagon to our new home. The wagon sits in the front yard near a windmill replica he built, silent memories of the past. But the Farmall is still active, with son Jay sitting at the wheel looking much like his old farmer dad, mowing his two acres of grass and weeds, plus some for neighbors, plus taking care of their gravel road and keeping it clear of snow in the winter, plus showing off in a parade last Saturday. Maybe we’ll send Harry pictures. He would be so proud.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Thanks, Levi Strauss!

2008-08-22T07:14:00.000-07:00

I'm always been a little slow on the uptake. Levi's jeans had been around for about a hundred years before I discovered their comfort when I tried on a pair belonging to my little brother, Jerry. I loved them so much that he never got them back until they were so tight I had to switch to big brother Walter's. I was too stingy with my hard-earned money to buy my own.

Jeans made for girls in those days were flimsy and baggy, with a zipper on the side. Girls generally didn't wear pants much then, and certainly not shorts except on the basketball court. When I started wearing cut-off Levi's to town, I added one more smear to the family name. I thought my long shapely legs were my only asset, and I put them to good use when the guys from the road construction site stopped at the grocery store on the way home from work each afternoon. In no time at all, I was married to the best one of the bunch.

Thanks, Levi Strauss!!

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

INSECT SWARMS—PLAGUE OR BLESSING?

2008-08-10T05:34:00.000-07:00

When we examine nature we have a tendency to be impulsive in our judgments. Seeing a carnivore kill its prey can be a disturbing experience. Writers and film makers tend to anthropomorphize everything animals do or that happens to them. What that means is that we make the animals into humans and interpret their experiences in human terms. Many of us talk to our dogs and cats in ways that would lead an unseeing observer to assume that it was our child we were addressing. We frequently miss the logic or purpose behind something when we do this, and sometimes we blame God for an incident we view as a catastrophe that may not in fact be a disaster at all.

Recently anthropological and archaeological studies show that insect swarms may fall into this category. I can recall seeing movies at school of insect swarms destroying a crop and ravaging the resources of a community. It was repulsive to see millions of grasshoppers covering the ground and filling the air, destroying every green thing in their path. Certainly this was a disaster for the families victimized by the swarms of insects. To a great extent, however, the problem was one of man’s refusal to use a food resource readily available to him from early times.

The Ute and Paiute Indians were studied by John Wesley Powell who reported in the 1870s that the Indians had numerous ways of turning the insects into very great delicacies. Digs in Utah have shown heavy usage of grasshoppers as a source of food, and experiments with present day populations indicate that one person can collect 200 pounds of dried hopper per hour from lake beaches where they are piled up by wave action.

The question of food value still remains. An ordinary grasshopper is 60% protein, 11% carbohydrate, and 2% fat. The caloric value of grasshoppers is 1365 calories per pound compared with 1240 for beef and 1590 for wheat flour. This translates into 273,000 calories per hour of work invested compared with 300 to 1,000 calories per hour for seed collecting and 25,000 calories per hour for big game such as deer or antelope. One person collecting the insects for one hour would have the calorie content of 87 chili dogs, 49 slices of pizza, or 43 Big Macs.

It is not the purpose of this article to try to run the quick food places out of business, because like most Americans I do not find grasshopper eating to be high on my list of gourmet treats. On the other hand one has to see the wisdom of the old saying, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” Perhaps using the grasshoppers as a food source made their destructive capabilities so negligible to our ancestors that the swarms became a blessing instead of a plague. —Ref: Natural History, July 1989, pp. 22-25.

—John Clayton, Dandy Designs, Sept/Oct 1990

Cora Gail Trent

www.cgtrent.com

cgtrent@att.net

Changing Times

2008-08-02T12:27:00.000-07:00

I feel a kinship with country music song writer Mac Davis who "thought happiness was Lubbock, Texas in my rear-view mirror." My hometown of Flomot was surrounded on every side by cotton patches and I couldn't wait to wave good-bye to her back-breaking work.

Within a few months of graduation, I was living on cloud nine, married to the man of my dreams who made a decent living working in road construction. Added blessings came with the birth of baby Joe, but before Molly arrived two years later, we were farmers once again.

This time around I was allowed to drive the tractor, another dream come true. Instead of dragging a sack of cotton down the dusty rows, I rode in the trailer forking and redistributing the cotton, an even dirtier job. But I loved it! I felt more in control of my destiny, and having experienced a few years of city living, I appreciated country life as never before.

Now I look forward to the Flomot homecoming every three years, as old friends become more precious with time, even though I'm the oldest-looking one of the bunch. "The more things change, the more they stay the same."

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Beating the Odds

2008-06-20T22:24:00.000-07:00

During my growing-up years on the farm, cotton was pulled by hand, one boll at a time, thrown into a long ducking sack attached to the body by a strap at the shoulder, dragged down the dusty row until it weighed from 70 to 100 pounds, lifted onto the scale for weighing, then hoisted into the trailer and emptied. If I really worked at it, I could pull 400 pounds per day, but that seldom happened.

When I married into a family that owned a mechanical boll pulling machine, I thought I had died and gone to heaven. The stripper was attached to the front of the tractor just outside the front wheels that ran between two rows of cotton stalks. Long tines something like a pitchfork pulled the cotton bolls and dead leaves off the stalk, which were rolled backward by augers and then blown into the trailer through a tall spout. Heavy green bolls fell into a box at the bottom of the spout.

Husband Harry drove the tractor, of course, and my job was to arrange and tromp the cotton as the trailer filled. Trying to avoid the blown cotton, trash and dust kept me moving occasionally from one side of the half filled trailer to the other, using the pitchfork to steady myself, and I was thankful my inexperienced kids didn't have such a dangerous job. Suddenly the tractor stopped at a small ditch just as I raised the fork. Out the front I flew like a witch with her broom. I could have hit the sharp spout, the metal boll box, the trailer hitch, the tractor wheel, the deadly tines of the pitchfork, the tough cotton stalks, or perhaps on my head, breaking my neck. Instead I landed on all-fours in the soft dirt. Not a scratch.

Just luck? Who knows? But with odds like that, maybe Vegas would pay better than farming!

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Feather Mites

2008-06-19T06:28:00.000-07:00

How Do Mites Know When the Feather Might Fall?

All birds have a tiny arthropod called a feather mite that lives in their feathers. These mites are a symbiotic organism, which means that they benefit the bird they live on and are benefited themselves by the birds. Feather mites eat oil and fungi, thus cleaning the bird and keeping the bird healthy. In return, the mites get both a place to live and a regular supply of food.

The complication in this arrangement is that once a year, the birds molt, shedding their feathers so that new ones can grow. If the mites were to stay on a feather being molted, they would ultimately die from the process. Spanish biologists studying this phenomena discovered that feathers about to be shed were free of mites. Before the feathers are shed, the mites get off and concentrate themselves numerically on feathers that are not shed. The question is “how do the mites know when the feather they are on is about to be shed and it is time to move?”

In a study of 63 songbirds in 13 species, all of them showed this capacity. The mites were able to pick up vibrations generated when the feathers to be shed begin loosening in the bird. This is another case where trial-and-error seems to be an unfortunate proposal. An error would be fatal, and so the mite would fall off when the feathers do and another trial is not available.

When God designed living things, he planned down to the shedding of feathers and for those organisms dependent on the feathers. These behaviors cannot be a product of the organism’s reasoning, but they can be the result of an infinite Intelligence that planned all aspects of the organism’s existence.
—Reference: Natural History, February 202, page 18
—John Clayton, Dandy Designs, September/October 2003

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Molecular Design Similarities

2008-05-23T15:13:00.000-07:00

Doug Lowrie of Austin, Texas, sent me a letter in the fall of 1996 urging me to explore the difference between hemoglobin and chlorophyll, and telling about his own experience. Hemoglobin is the molecule in the blood which accomplishes the transport of oxygen in the human body. That makes it of paramount importance to us as living beings. Chlorophyll is the molecule responsible for converting sunlight into useable energy in plants.

One of the questions that arises in any discussion of molecular structure is what the origin of that structure is. Whether one looks at the structure of the water molecule, of the carbon atom, or of complicated molecules like DNA, the incredible complexities of design seem to suggest an intelligence did the planning, not chance.

In the case of chlorophyll and hemoglobin we have two molecules that are amazingly similar in makeup, but which are very different in function. As you look at two schematic drawings, it is obvious that there is only one major difference in the makeup of the molecules and that is that hemoglobin has iron as the central atom in the matrix and chlorophyll has magnesium. In all other respects the molecules are the same.

It is the remarkable chemical characteristics of iron and magnesium which cause the radically different function of these two molecules. The rest of the molecule has an arrangement tailor made to allow the iron and magnesium to express their unique chemistry. Tailoring and arranging molecules and atoms for such specific roles is not something chance can accomplish. At a molecular level it is especially easy to “Know there is a God through the things He has made: (Romans 1:19-21).

—John Clayton, Dandy Designs, Sept/Oct, 1997

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Stem Cells: A Good Thing

2008-05-13T07:41:00.000-07:00

There continues to be a distribution of massive misinformation being made throughout our culture about stem cell research. One part of the misinformation has been rooted in the fact that many people have tried to tie stem cell research into the abortion issue. It is true that there have been some research projects that were created around embryonic stem cells from aborted babies, but between politics, ethical concerns, and complications in the research this has not been where the most productive research has been taking place. Stem cells are a good thing, and may offer wonderful help in the battle against cancer, Parkinson's, diabetes and any number of other chronic health problems that humans face. It is important to be informed about this new tool of medicine, and not allow it to become a political or religious issue to the detriment of all mankind.

Stem cells are primal cells found in all multi-cellular organisms that are able to reproduce and can differentiate into various specialized cell types. This is a fairly new science which began in the early 1960s. There are three broad categories of stem cells. They are: (1) Embryonic stem cells, which are taken from an early stage embryo of approximately four to five days old and consists of 50 to 150 cells. These stem cells can develop into each of more than 200 cells types of the adult body when given sufficient stimulation. (2) Adult stem cells, which are found throughout the body that normally reproduce to replenish dying cells and regenerate damaged tissues. (3) Cord blood stem cells found in the umbilical cord and are able to differentiate into all of the specialized embryonic tissues.

To understand why stem cells are so useful, we might consider the repairs on a car as an analogy. If your car is overheating, what is likely to be the cause? Common sense tells you that the electrical system or the motor itself are not the probable villians. It is obviously the cooling system that has a problem, and there are only a few components that make up the cooling system. A quick check could tell you if you have enough fluid in the cooling system, and if so, a blockage or a dysfunctional water pump would be the likely culprit. It is relatively easy to determine if there is a blockage so if there is not, the mechanic would be likely to replace the water pump.

Many human diseases can be treated in much the same way. If a person is diabetic and his blood sugar is very high, it is not likely that the problem is being caused by the heart or the lungs. We all know that an organ called the pancreas secretes a substanace called insulin that allows the sugars in our food to be processed. If there is not enough insulin, our blood sugar will be too high and that has numerous side effects on the individual. We now know that in the pancreas there are cells grouped into what are called the "islets of Langerhans" and each islet contains approximately 1000 cells. These cells are grouped into four groups. Sixty-five to eighty percent are beta cells which produce Insulin and Amylin, 15 to 20 percent are alpha cells which release Glucagon, an activating agent, 3 to 10 percent are delta cells that produce Somatostatin, an inhibiting agent, and 1 percent are PP cells which contain a polypeptide. All of this tells us that the design of the human digestive system is incredibly complex. How do you fix it when something is wrong?

In the case of the car, someone has to have carefully built a water pump that will do what the original equipment was designed to do. That means that the original blueprint has to be understood, and all parts have to be carefully put together in the same way that the original equipment was produced. To fix diabetes, the same process has to be used. In type 1 diabetes in which insulin shots are required, the islets of Langerhans have been destroyed. If we can develop stem cells that will turn into islets of Langerhans and can inject them into the pancreas of the diabetic we will have replaced what is missing with an identical component. Science is very close to accomplishing this from adult stem cells.

Embryonic stem cells are not the answer to this type of research. Embryonic cells can become anything, which is why people have an interest in them, but this is also a major problem. Embryonic cells can be misled by biochemical signals when they are transplanted into an adult, leading to unwanted cell types and sometimes to tumor formation.

Three researchers at the University of Missouri have been able to sustain adult stem cells and induce them to turn into specific cell types by exposing them to different chemical signals. No abnormal tissue results from this type of stem cell work. Elmer Price, Randall Prather, and Mike Foley at the University of Missouri have taken the lead in this research. Price says, "In theory, embryonic stem cells have the ability to become almost any cell type or organ. Very complex chemical signals need to be in place with embryonic stem cells in order for them to develop into the appropriate type of cell. However, we have shown that if you can isolate adult stem cells, you can make them generate the appropriate type of cell with much more ease and specificity."

Remember that blood-derived adult stem cells are normally used by the body for regeneration and repair, and by copying what God has designed for the maintenance of the human body, some wonderful solutions to the afflictions humans endure are possible. Stem cell research is a good thing, and as we learn more about this part of our body's makeup we have to understand even more fully David's description of what God has done in forming us from the dust of the earth: "I will praise thee Lord, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made" (Psalm 139:14).
--John Clayton, Does God Exist?, Nov/Dec 2007

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Distillation

2008-05-12T13:06:00.000-07:00

It is always interesting to read articles that others write on issues that we try to deal with in this journal. Trying to bring peace between science and faith seems to be something that is repugnant to extremists on both sides of the evolution/creation controversy. One frequently voiced challenge to those of us who try to resolve conflicts between science and faith is that we are trying to distill the Bible through science, when we should really be in the business of distilling science through the Bible. The challenge is that if you are using science to understand the Bible you are automatically going to distort the biblical message to make it fit what you believe to be true scientifically. People who espouse this belief would have us interpret all of science in terms of what the Bible says--rejecting anything that conflicts with the Bible (or more exactly, with their understanding of the Bible) as false.

The first point that I would like to make in this discussion is that the word distill is an unfortunate choice of words. When yhou distill water, you change it into steam and condense it back into water so that any impurity in the water is removed. The water is still water--just not contaminated by salt or bacteria or some other chemical. To maintain that the Bible is being distilled would be to maintain that it is being purified--that the impurities are being taken out. If the impurities are the additions, speculations, and modifications by humans, this would be a good thing. In the past there have been misunderstandings of the Bible that were in fact corrected by science.

In Revelation 7:1 we are told about "four angels standing at the four corners of the earth." People deduced from this passage that the earth was flat. When science finally proved beyond any doubt that the earth was round, the teaching about a flat earth disappeared. This was not a biblical error, it was a misunderstanding that had come about because of the ignorance of the reader. We now understand that this apocalyptic passage is talking about the points on the compass and not the shape of the earth, and the error of humans in reading what God has given us has been distilled--corrected.

Another example of how science has purified the Bible is seen in the Bible's classification of a rabbit as a ruminant. In Leviticus 11:6 and Deuteronomy 14:7 the hare or rabbit is identified as an animal that "chews the cud" and thus was unclean for the Israelites. The rabbit does not have multiple stomachs that allow food to be regurgitated into their mouths to be processed again, so many atheists used these passages in years gone by to support their view that the Bible was full of mistakes. In recent years science has learned that rabbits practice a special kind of rumination called refection. Vegetable matter that is hard to digest absorbs specialized bacteria and then is deposited as droppings. After a period of time the rabbit will eat these droppings and reprocess the material so that the rabbit is very efficient in using all of the vegetable matter it eats. This is a kind of rumination and in fact fits "chewing the cud" very well. The Bible's accuiracy is clearly demonstrated by science in this matter, but science has not changed the biblical statement in any way. What it has done is provide support for what the Bible says.

The list of examples like these that can be given is huge. Bible writers did not view any fact of the creation to be at odds with their teachings or understandings. When Job writes about the skies in Job 38:31-32 he uses the constellation names of Pleides and the Bear in his description. These are names taken from the science of the writer's day, and one needs to understand that science to understand what the author is saying. To suggest that science has nothing to contribute to our understanding of the Bible is an ignorant position, and even in the Genesis account there are contributions that science can make to help us in our understanding of what we are being told. We should now understand that the word "kind" from the Hebrew "min" is not a reference to varieties or even species, but is a much broader word. We now have 142 varieties of chickens; and who would have ever guess that a chihuahua and a Saint Barnard would have a common ancestor? Questions like how Noah got all of the animals on the ark, and the wisdom of the sequence in which animals were created can be answered from science. Even the difference between creating something indicated by the Hebrew word "bara" in Genesis 1:1 and making something indicated by the Hebrew word "asah" in Genesis 1:16 can be understood and clarified by science. Just like the rabbit question or the shape of the earth, science helps us eliminate our misunderstandings and gives us proof of the credibility of God's word. The Bible and science support, illuminate, and provide understanding of each other. This is a positive thing and is necessary.

The place where most critics of those of us who believe science and faith are friends comes from, is when science provides help in places where the Bible is silent. There have been well over 10 million species of animals that have lived on this planet. Genesis makes no attempt to explain them all. The Hebrew words used in Genesis 1 cannot be used to explain viruses, amoeba, insects, leeches, worms, platypuses, sea plants, fungus, marsupials, echidnas, corals, bats, flying reptiles, or even dinosaurs. It is not the purpose of the Bible to give a detailed account of how every living thing came into being. People can assume that even though these living things are not described they are included in the descriptions that are given. That is an assumption and frequently violates common sense. It is not taking the Bible literally. Words mean something, and you cannot violate their meaning to fit your theology. Behemoth in verses 24:25 refers to cattle and cannot be applied to a reptile or a platypus. Science gives us some suggestions about these living things, and how they have been designed into the ecosystem. These suggestions are not a distillation of the Bible, but simply provide information where the Bible is silent.

Perhaps the best example of this problem is in the age of the earth. Nowhere is the Bible is the age of the earth stated. Humans have used assumptions to project a specific age to the earth, and these guesses have been heavily tainted by denominational creeds. Bishop Ussher's methodology, for example, is full of assumptions: (1) that there are no undated events or periods in the Bible; (2) that the genealogies in the Bible are complete; (3) that the genealogies are in a sequential order to be used for chronology; and (4) that there are no missing historical periods in the Bible. By making these and some other assumptions, some believers have been able to get the age of the earth as low as 6,000 years--even though we have cities with historical records older than that. Science offers some other estimates of the ages of things, based on different assumptions that lead to different conclusions. Could those assumptions and conclusions be in error? Of course they could, just as Ussher's assumptions are clearly in error. The point is that this is not a conflict between science and faith, and it is not a distillation of the Bible through science. It is simply a matter of whether we will take what the Bible says as truth and what it does not say as of no consequence. The two areas are independent and while they might appear to conflict, as better information becomes available both will change until they are in agreement. This is the lesson of history and of common sense. If science is the study of facts, and the Bible is the revelation of the one who created the facts, they cannot possibly conflict.

What happens if we distill science through faith? Science is defined by Webster's dictionary as "knowledge, as opposed to intuition." Science deals with facts. Sometimes some strange methods are used to get to the facts, and those methods may scatter some misunderstandings along the way. For science to function, it has to assume nothing when it starts. If scientists 1000 years ago had accepted Revelation 7:1 as factually referring to the shape of the earth and had not pursued it further, we would still be believing the earth was flat. The history of religion has been that humans have misunderstood scripture over and over and applied it in a destructive way. People have used the phrase "God's chosen people" to justify everything from slavery to political agendas. To use what you believe to control what you do scientifically assumes that you have absolute truth in all you believe, and while a few of us may be that egotistical most of us are old enough and experienced enough to know that is not true.

Science and faith are friends. They cannot conflict because they deal with different subjects. When they interact they always support each other when the information is correct, and they illuminate one another in very positive and useful ways. Einstein said it best "Religion without science is lame, and science without religion is blind." Galilio said "Science is the study of how the heavens go, not how to go to heaven." Let us work at a healthy, dynamic, positive growing relationship between our faith and what science tells us. This journal is dedicated to helping those who will think, study, and reason to arrive at that end.

-John Clayton, Does God Exist? Nov/Dec 2007
For more go to http://www.doesgodexist.org

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Brother Walt's Memories

2008-04-22T09:54:00.000-07:00

Hoeing cotton:
Think I was 5 at the time, and for some reason I always wanted to go to the field with Daddy. May have been the kick in head by the horse. I remember there wasn't much to hoe as there were no goat heads or Johnson grass. There were only some gypsum looking weeds and not many of those. Daddy decided if I was going to be there anyway I could hoe one row while he took two. Seems like he got 10 cents an hour and I got 5, but don't think that could have been right as that would have been a dollar a day and don't think he made that much until ‘38 or ‘39.Don't think I did that much so no danger of child labor laws. Ha.

Killing hogs:
The people who had hogs would kill them for meat when the first cold snap moved in. When we had hogs, that was usually the only meat we had and when it was gone sometimes we would have a treat on Sunday and have fried chicken. Anyway back to the hogs. After killing them they would put them in scalding water and then scrape the hair from the skin. That was usually my job and it wasn't easy; Daddy would say you’re not scraping hard enough. One fall there at Crowell's we not only had a hog but also a calf. Daddy killed the calf, I think, by hitting it in the head with an ax. Sounds gruesome but guess you gotta do what you gotta do. Anyway we were eating high on the hog, so to speak, that fall. Daddy would rub the meat with sugar-cure, work it into the meat to preserve it, as there was no refrigerator, as there was no electricity. Some people had a smokehouse to put their meat in but Daddy hung ours on the north wall of the house, no smoke house.

Killing chickens:
Maybe one Sunday a month we would have fried chicken. Momma would get on the cell phone and called Kentucky F.., oops, got carried away there. The chicken deal was simple, you would go to the hen house Saturday night and get a chicken from the roost, put the chicken under a tub. Sunday morning Momma would get the chicken from under the tub, grab the chicken by the head and wring it until its head came off. Then I believe she would scald the chicken, pluck the feathers and gut it. Seems kinda simple. . .P.S. Don't know how the chickens would do it, but they would jump around some after their head was gone. (really!)Stay tuned..

–Walter Gunn, Son of a Gunn, e-mail memoirs
More at www.cgtrent.com
Cora Gail (Gunn) Trent
cgtrent@att.net

The Design of Horse Milk

2008-04-19T12:08:00.000-07:00

The Design of Horse Milk

Reproduction systems in living things show incredible complexity and a level of design that defies chance explanation. Not only do the processes of reproduction show design characteristics, but frequently there are substances involved that have unique and very specific properties unique to the animal involved. The milk of the horse is an example of a unique substance.

The foal has a unique problem in its development. The makeup of the placenta is such that antibiotics cannot be passed from the mare to the foal during gestation. Without these antibodies the foal is very susceptible to harmful bacteria. The way the foal gets these necessary antibodies is from a substance known as colostrums which the foal receives from the mother’s milk.

The mare’s milk is an incredibly designed and almost magical substance. The milk has incredible nutritional value being high in energy, proteins, minerals and vitamins. It also contains a laxative which helps the intestinal tract of the horse get off to a good start. The most unique thing the foal gets from drinking the milk is colostrum, which contains all the antibodies the foal needs to take him to the time his own immune system has developed which is two to four months. The antibodies in the milk are immunoglobulins with the main antibody being immunoglobulin G. If the foal gets 500 cc of colostrum it will be protected, but there is a limited time to do that. Colostrum is available in the mare’s udder for a maximum of three days. During the first hours of a foals’ life colostrum will be concentrated at the end of the mare’s teats so the foal is given a full compliment of antibodies as early as possible. Most foals get over 1000 cc of colostrums before the mare’s milk contains just normal milk.

The uniqueness of each reproductive system argues against chance explanations based on evolutionary theories. We would suggest that design features and substances like colostrums are the result of planning by the Creator.

—Data Source: Western Horseman Magazine, March, 1996, pages 26-28

—John Clayton, Dandy Designs, May/June, 1997

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Monarch Migration--The Changing Compass

2008-04-18T17:11:00.000-07:00

Monarch Migration—The Changing Compass

Several times in previous Dandy Designs sections of this journal, we have talked about the migration of various kinds of life. We have seen that birds, turtles, whales, eels, caribou, and even some insects accomplish incredible migrations over great distances. One of the more interesting migratory patterns is that of the monarch butterfly, which moves from a 40-mile long stretch of mountains just west of Mexico City to the Great Lakes and back every year. Lincoln Brower, who is a leading expert on the monarch, has been studying the route of the monarch and the navigation techniques they must use to make their incredible journeys.

Browser has been able to show that most of the monarchs from Mexico make their way from Mexico to Texas and Louisiana where they lay their eggs and die. The first generation butterflies that hatch from these eggs reach the Great Lakes where they reproduce and die. Their offspring head east to the Appalachians and the East Coast and lay their eggs and die. Their offspring head south to the Gulf Coast, veer west and go back to Mexico, so it is the fourth generation of monarchs that complete the trip.

Notice that the monarch has made a giant circle as a group, with each generation flying in a place it has never been before. The evidence is that the navigation system that allows this is magnetically oriented. When the first group of monarchs begins the journey, the butterflies’ magnetic compass, which seems to be crystals of magnetic material in their bodies, is pointed north. Every day, it turns about one degree clockwise so that, by the time the butterflies get to Texas or Louisiana, it is pointing northeast. Their offspring follow this northeast compass to the Great Lakes, but the compass they pass onto their offspring is set on east!

When the temperatures begin to cool and days get shorter, the compass is set on southeast, then south, and then southwest until they arrive back in Mexico. The one question Brower cannot answer is, “what sets the compass?” Is it temperature, length of day, or a genetic predisposition? This research has gone on for 40 years and has given us some incredible insights. We would suggest that the complexity of the system implies a design for survival given by God to enable this tropical butterfly to grace all of our country.

Data from Discover, May, 1996, pages 89-139

John Clayton, Dandy Designs, March/April, 1997

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Excerpts from "Son of a Gunn"

2008-04-12T14:04:00.000-07:00

The Horses-
As was told to me by Momma–We lived on Crowell's place and I was 15 months old. She was looking for me and finally saw that I was in the barnyard wandering around amongst the horses. There were several horses, as Daddy did the plowing with them., guess she let out a scream and went running to get me, but before she got there a horse kicked me in the head. Think she said I was out cold for awhile but luckily wasn't hurt that bad. ( a close call )

The tractor:
I was 5 and still at Crowell's place.. Leonard had bought a new F-20 Farmall tractor. For some reason I had a fascination for cars, tractors, etc. Daddy would let me try about anything and I found if I put the crank at the top, and got to the side and put one foot against the tire and pulled the crank with both hands, the tractor would start, as it was new and started easily.I recall I was quite proud of myself being able to start the tractor. Daddy would never say anything but think he got a kick out of things like that.

Momma fright:
Still 5.One day Daddy was going to plow the sudan patch with the new tractor. The tractor was backed into an old shed with just the front of it sticking out of the shed. Daddy had to go and open 2 or 3 gates to get through the barnyard to the sudan patch. While he was opening gates I decided to start the tractor. With one click of the magneto it started. I also decided I would drive it around to the sudan patch while I was at it. Daddy would let me drive sitting in his lap so it wasn't my first experience at driving. Momma heard the tractor start and looked out the window. Her version was: There was Houston opening gates and the front of the tractor sticking out of the shed and about that time the tractor started moving and she couldn't figure out what was going on. As the tractor emerged there I was driving it. I'm sure about then she was near panic. I had to make a couple of turns to make it through the lot but made it ok. Daddy didn't seem to think anything about it, was probably actually proud of me, but probably gave Momma a few gray hairs.

--Walter Gunn in his memoirs, Son of a Gunn
For more tales of the good old days, go to www.cgtrent.com

Cora Gail Gunn Trent
cgtrent@att.net

What in the World. . .?

2008-04-07T08:13:00.000-07:00

What in the World is Life All About?

Life is a puzzle we’re striving to solve,
a journey, with heaven our goal.
Some days are like a roller coaster ride
as we struggle to find our own role.
Or is it a game for worldly acclaim,
the guy with the most toys a winner?
We must be prepared with the right puzzle piece
to aid the questioning sinner.

Life is a test of integrity, faith,
obedience, honesty, love,
of how we handle temptations
and honor our God up above.
Each failure has consequences,
even though it may be forgiven.
Success is richly rewarded
when by sincere love we are driven.
The wide path to sin is selfishness;
by our own desires enticed.
Deep rooted faith keeps us grounded
in the field of self-sacrifice.

Life is a trust; each one is in charge
of things that belong to another.
Everything in the world belongs to God.
Our talents we must not smother.
As trustees of our gifts from God–
children, money, time–
we must invest them wisely
in the cause that is sublime.

Life is temporary, fleeting,
passes swift as morning dew.
Only spiritual things are eternal,
and we must not miss our cue.
As strangers and pilgrims on the earth,
with Captain Christ at the helm,
our citizen-ship is good hands,

sailing toward that heavenly realm.

From a sermon by Hal Crass

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Misreading the Saguaro

2008-04-02T11:39:00.000-07:00

Misreading the Saguaro

One of the more interesting and misunderstood plants in the creation is the Saguaro cactus seen in the desert areas of the American Southwest. Recently I was hiking near Phoenix with Dave Strong, a friend who has lived in desert areas most of his life. I made some kind of comment about how primitive the plant appeared to be and found that the opposite is true.

“Do you know how the Saguaro is pollinated?” Dave asked. I assumed that the usual answer of wind, bees, etc., would apply. “The flowers bloom at night,” Dave said, “and the pollinators are bats.” Apparently bats that survive on nectar fly at night and visit the Saguaros, thereby pollinating them. The symbiotic relationship between the flowers of the plants blooming at night and bats being the pollinators is too contrived to be a function of chance.

As we climbed through a forest of Saguaros, Dave pointed to an old plant full of holes which stood nearly 20 feet tall. “That plant’s about 120 years old,” he said. About that time, a bird flew out of one of the holes. The Saguaro is a regular apartment house for all kinds of birds, lizards, desert rodents, and reptiles, as well as a whole entourage of insects. The Saguaro plant itself is remarkably designed for life in dry climates. The inside of the plant is built like an accordion so that there is a huge storage capacity for water when it does rain. The surface is constructed without leaves so little transpiration occurs, conserving water in an efficient way.

To look at a Saguaro, you might feel that you were looking at a primitive liverwort-like plant, but that is a misreading. This is a highly complex and marvelously designed plant that benefits creatures living in the harsh conditions of the desert.

--John Clayton, Dandy Designs, January/February, 1997

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Disaster in the Making

2008-03-25T09:32:00.000-07:00

Disaster in the Making

Little Joe, our first-born grandson
came running in the house.
While playing in the cellar,
he had seen a mouse.
Straight to the back bedroom he came,
and the rifle in the closet.
The four-year-old is cute and quick;
his mind goes lickety-split.
I grabbed the gun, and away he went
to the kitchen for a knife,
determined he would win the war,
a little Barney Fife.
How did he know the gun was there -
in a corner, almost hid?
What might have happened if I wasn’t near?
Disaster! God forbid!
With five of our own and eight grandkids,
this wasn’t the only close call.
We lived on a roller coaster,
an adventure over-all.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Follow the Leader

2008-03-24T12:55:00.000-07:00

Joe was on the second tractor, Molly headed up the hoe hands
the first time they went to the field alone.
A thankless job is hoeing, plodding on with thirst and sunburn,
your legs becoming achey to the bone.
I spied the small blue pickup swirling dust as it came homeward,
the hoeing crew all loaded in the bed.
Had a hoe cut off a dirty toe, a snake bite caused disaster?
A million questions whirled within my head.
I ran out back to meet them as they hurried up the driveway,
the portent in the air foretelling doom.
What happened? Who was injured? Is there anybody dying?
No, Molly only has to use the bathroom!

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Leaves

2008-03-03T09:48:00.000-08:00

Most of us, in the Midwest at least, take trees for granted. They are so common and seem to grow so easily that we fail to consider how carefully they have to be designed to survive. The leaves of trees are especially complex. Not only is their chemistry that turns sunlight and common chemicals into usable complex compounds highly sophisticated, but their physical makeup and shape are also carefully engineered.

Leaves have to be arranged on a tree so that there is an efficient interception of the sun’s rays. If you have ever stood beneath a tree and looked at its shadow, you know that very little sunlight is wasted.

In addition to absorbing sunlight and carrying on photosynthesis, leaves have to be able to endure a great deal of physical abuse. In severe wind, a leaf has to have minimal drag. If the drag of leaves is high, a tree will be toppled by even moderate winds. To have a low drag, the shape is critical. A highly streamlined object with a gentle rounding upstream and an elongated point going downstream will experience less than 10% of the drag of a sphere or a cylinder of equal volume. The complex shapes of most leaves do not conform to this simple shape we have just described.

Steven Vogel, writing in Natural History magazine (September, 1993, pages 59-62), has found that when exposed to wind, leaves reconfigure themselves into cones or roll themselves up so that they are stable in high winds. It is obvious that a rolled-up leaf or a cone-shaped object is less likely to catch wind than an open object which can act like a sail. Groups of leaves can naturally fold into a communal cone, once again minimizing the drag that they put on the tree.

There are enormous engineering problems involved in catching maximum sunlight, having enough volume to carry on sufficient photosynthesis to supply the needs of the plant, and having a way to avoid providing sufficient surface area to push over the tree. The design of leaves that allows all of these characteristics to be present is incredible. A leaf’s stem must resist bending in an up/down direction in order to catch sunlight. To provide the rolling up of leaves or the formation of cones, the stem must permit twisting. This is done by grooves in the stem which are positioned in such a way as to decrease torsional stiffness without decreasing flexural stiffness.

The common leaf speaks eloquently of the incredible complexity of all living things. We suggest that the assumption that chance can explain all of these things takes more faith than does the admission that intelligent design was the cause.

—John Clayton, Dandy Designs, September/October, 1996

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

How Do Bats Know When the Bugs Are Out?

2008-02-29T07:46:00.000-08:00

<>How Do Bats Know When the Bugs Are Out?

Bats eat bugs, but bugs are cold blooded. When it is cold, bugs do not fly and bats cannot eat them. How does a bat living far underground in a cave that stays at 55 degrees F year-round know whether the bugs are out or not?

An ecologist at the University of Illinois has discovered that bats use changes in air pressure to tell if the bugs are out. When air pressure is low, it is because the air is light in weight and rising due to the fact that it is warm. When the pressure is high, the air is dense due to cold temperatures.

Researchers have found that if the barometer is above 29.1 inches of mercury, bats in Illinois do not leave their caves. The bats use a middle ear receptor called the vitali organ to measure pressure and can detect changes less than one tenth of an inch of mercury.

<>All living things have specialized structures to help them survive in the ecological niche designed for them. Truly we can know there is a God through the things he has made.

<>—John Clayton, Dandy Designs, Sept/Oct, 1996
<>http://www.doesgodexist.org/
<>jncdge@aol.com
<>

Cora Gail Trent
cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

How Can They Sleep Standing Up?

2008-02-18T08:25:00.000-08:00

Several years ago while hiking in the mountains of Montana, a friend of mine and I came around a corner on a trail and came face-to-face with a horse standing in the middle of the trail. We had been walking quietly in the hope of seeing wildlife and found our wildlife to be a domestic horse sound asleep in the middle of the trail. The horse’s eyes were closed in a deep sleep. As we got a little closer to the horse, he woke up, saw us, and bolted from the trail and galloped across a nearby meadow. There was no question that he was asleep, standing up, motionless, and had been that way for some time. “How can he sleep standing up?” my friend asked.

The fact is that many animals sleep standing up. The bulk of large animals like horses and elephants causes pressure against their ribs when they lie down, making breathing difficult. In these animals, the leg joints lock automatically when they relax, allowing them to be stable even when asleep. In the case of birds, the tendons in the leg cause the toes to automatically curl around a limb when the bird perches. Birds can be asleep and the leg will stay anchored to the branch. It is only when the bird lifts from the perch position that the leg tendons relax the foot’s grip on the limb. In a bat, it is the pull of the weight of the animal on the tendon that locks the foot on its perch.

Humans find it hard to imagine sleeping in a standing or hanging position, but that is because the design of our body does not allow us to be secure in those positions. Such a simple thing as the position in which we sleep is a reflection of the incredible design that is built into all living things, but it is just a small part of the numerous systems which are all necessary for the survival of life. Attributing such complexity to chance requires a faith far beyond the belief of a designing God who carefully provided for all forms of life to live, even though the conditions under which that life exists are highly varied.

—John Clayton, Dandy Designs, May/June, 1996

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Lawana Cruse

2008-02-08T06:39:00.000-08:00

When Lawana and Marie Cruse bought the old Gem Theater in Turkey, Texas and talked about renovation, everybody thought they were nuts. Now it is the beautiful home of the monthly Country Music Jamboree and many other shows that bring in audiences from miles around. The building next door, once a drug store, has a new roof, and houses a dining room where delicious meals are served before the jamboree begins. And next to that are spacious restrooms, a big improvement over the original. Although Lawana died in a car wreck several years ago, her dream lives on, thanks to her sisters-in-law, Marie and Tommie Jo, and a handfull of volunteers.

Basically the same volunteers manage Bob Wills Days each April, a week of country music jam sessions, dances and general good fun. Saturday's parade, fiddlers' contest, and music by the remaining members of Bob Wills' band climax the down-home get-together that is attended by thousands of people from around the world. The old school house has been turned into a museum containing Bob Wills memorabilia.

Bob Wills grew up at Turkey and often played his fiddle in the barber shop where he worked. The shop still looks about the same as when he was there in the early part of the twentieth century, and is opened during this exciting week by the daughter of Harold Ham, the barber who ran it as long as he was able.

As a child, I watched many a Saturday matinee at the Gem, and my soul is always refreshed by occasional visits to the old stomping grounds. Besides all she did for Turkey, Lawana also helped me get started publishing my poetry. She was instrumental in many historical projects in the area and raised an outstanding family. What a legacy!

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Roads and Memories

2008-02-05T19:11:00.000-08:00

The blacktop road between Turkey and Estelline, Texas meanders through some rough ranch country, with a few cotton fields here and there. As my car climbs some of the steep hills, I think of Daddy when he followed this same course early in the 20th century, before the road was paved, driving a span of mules that pulled his freight wagon. He loaded up at the Estelline railroad depot, traversed this 30 miles of treacherous terrain, sometimes only a few feet at a time up the steep gullies with no bridges before stopping to let the mules get their breath. The winding road generally followed the highest points between the Red River and the North Pease. Another 20 miles, crossing the Pease River and a few creeks, they then had to climb the awesome Caprock to Lockney where his dad owned the first lumberyard in the area.

Why would anyone choose such a job as driving a freight wagon? Daddy loved horses and mules, and maybe the challenge of doing the impossible. This was his favorite thing besides bronco bustin'. When the project of building two railroad tunnels through the Caprock got underway, he signed on to haul the dirt away, but quickly gave up on the good paying job because it was too hard on his mules.

I'm thankful to have some of Houston Gunn's genes, but also thankful for paved roads, bridges and comfortable cars.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

More Monach Magic

2008-01-29T19:26:00.000-08:00

More monarch magic

Several times in the past, we have discussed the monarch butterfly as an example of the incredible design that has been built into living things. The migratory pattern of monarchs is an incredible thing to study as they travel thousands of miles from their summering areas to their wintering areas in Mexico or in central California. The mechanisms of flight which allow them to take advantage of wind is another area of study that is fascinating. How these butterflies know to fly high in the air when the wind is behind them and close to the ground when the wind is against them, giving them optimum use of wind currents, is a mystery.

A new discovery has added to our appreciation of this incredible creature. Monarchs have a built-in protective device to avoid being eaten. The protective device is a noxious chemical that accumulates in their body due to their diet. The main food of the monarch caterpillar is milkweed which contains cardenolide, a toxin that tastes bad and prevents animals from eating the monarch. When the monarch migrates, there is no milkweed on their migratory journey and thus no cardenolide.

The monarch avoids becoming a food for animals by sipping the nectar of a variety of plants which contain pyrrolizidine alkaloids. This material is also toxic and simply picks up where the cardenolides leave off. For this butterfly to have a diet which builds one toxin in their body in the summer and builds a different toxin which accomplishes the same purpose in the winter is hard to explain by chance. We would suggest that the monarch works its magic by the design of its Creator.

—Source: Discover, March 1991, page 14

—John Clayton, Dandy Designs, Jan/Feb, 1996

www.doesgodexist.com

jncdge@aol.com

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

The Design of Food Chains

2008-01-21T10:03:00.000-08:00

The Design of Food Chains

Recently I was visiting in a home in which a teen-ager had received a computer game based on ecology. The idea of the game was to design a planet in which different kinds of animals and plants could be placed. As you created your planet’s ecosystem, you could add grasses, trees, bushes, and decomposers. You could also add animals that were meat eaters, animals that were plant eaters, insects, and insect eaters. The object of the game was to see how long your “earth” could exist. If you put all plant eaters on your planet, for example, your planet would very quickly die because all the plants would get eaten up and the animals would starve to death. If you put too many meat eaters on your planet, it would be a short time before the plant eaters would all be gone, the meat eaters would starve to death and the plants would choke themselves out. It was very difficult to get a balance that would allow the planet to survive for more than a few thousand years.

The more science learns of the balance of food chains in all environments found in the world, the more the complexity of the situation stands out. Recent studies in Alaska and Isle Royale, Michigan, for example, have shown a huge correlation between the wolf population and the normal vegetative pattern. It turns out that moose in Alaska do enormous damage to the plants essential to sustain the environment—especially some of the evergreens that support the ecology during the winter months. When the wolves are killed off by disease or hunters, the moose population explodes and the vegetation is wiped out. The correlation between the wolf population and the abundance of plants has now been well documented.

The ability of the natural world to survive over a long period of time is clue to the incredibly complex and interwoven system of food chains that sustain it. Playing the computer game where you have to play God, even on a limited human scale, is a powerful testimony that our world has been designed by a master intelligence.

—John Clayton, Dandy Designs, January/February, 1996

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

The Incredible Immune System

2008-01-19T08:35:00.000-08:00

The Incredible Immune System

A War Machine Ready to Fight!

Just 20 years ago, scientists had only fragments of information about how the many cells that make up your immune system interact to protect you against disease. Through advances in cancer research, scientists now believe more than 100 million immune cells exist. For every virus or bacterium, there seems to be an immune cell specifically designed to hunt down and destroy it.—Mayo Clinic Health Letter Medical Essay, February, 1995, page 1.

The world in which we live is ruled by microscopic organisms. These small particles of life are the real workhorses of all life. They help our bodies digest food; they aid our reproductive systems; they decompose our wastes, prepare our soil, purify our water, and supply nutrients to our animals. Sometimes, due to mutations or other changes, they attack our bodies, making us ill. As the quote from the Mayo Clinic above says, we have a carefully designed system in our bodies which eliminates the microscopic organisms that would do us harm.

The complexity of this system is astounding. It begins with the cells that actually do the fighting. There are three basic types:

B and T Cells. These are white blood cells which recognize and coordinate an attack on specific invading microorganisms.

Phagocytes. These white blood cells eat up anything that is not wanted. One kind of phagocyte called a macrophage gets rid of worn out cells and debris.

Chemical Killers. These white blood cells release powerful chemicals that destroy microorganisms.

Each of these cells carries the same chemical identification card with a unique molecular pattern on it so that your immune system does not attack itself.

Your body has an elaborate defense system designed to stop microorganisms at all places where they might enter your body. These include:

Tonsils and Adenoids—which contain immune cells that protect your respiratory system.

Spleen—which has immune cells that destroy organisms that have entered your blood stream.

Appendix and Peyer’s Patches—which contain immune cells that enter your digestive system.

Lymph Nodes—which house B and T cells.

Lymph Vessels—which transport immune cells to your blood and immune organs.

Bone Marrow—which makes immune cells.

Thymus—where white blood cells mature into T cells.

Even in our simplified explanation, it is obvious how sophisticated and elaborate this system is. An undamaged immune system can keep us healthy and free of disease, especially when cared for properly. David’s statement takes on a special meaning with this knowledge of God’s marvelous design. “I will praise the Lord, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”—Psalms 139:14.

—John Clayton, Dandy Designs, November/December, 1995

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Some Other Way?

2008-01-03T09:53:00.000-08:00

Some Other Way?

When I present scientific evidence that God designed the creation and that it is not a product of chance, one response that frequently comes from skeptics is that perhaps there is some other way that life and the conditions to support it could exist. “Maybe there is life totally different than our kind of life so that the odds diminish because there are different ways and forms that life can take” is a common response.

In a statement like this one, we have to assume that a scientific proposal is being made—not a religious one. If a person wishes to argue for rock people or fire people, they can do so, but not on a scientific base. Life is generally defined as having the characteristics of moving, breathing, reproducing, and responding to outside stimuli. Things like viruses and anaerobic bacteria are hard to fit into any definition, but fire people would be even more of a problem.

The reason that there is no other way is because of the chemical restraints on all of life’s processes. In order for an animal to breathe, for example, it is necessary that a gas be used that supports combustion. Some gases burn—like methane, hydrogen, propane, and the like. Some gases smother—like carbon dioxide, carbon monoxide, helium, and the like. Only a very few gases support combustion. When a piece of coal burns, the carbon combines with oxygen, producing heat and light. The process is unique because energy is given off in large amounts quickly, and we call it burning. The design of the oxygen molecule enables it to do this with many materials—many of them giving off heat and light. When we breathe, the same thing happens, but not as rapidly. The heat given off maintains our body temperature of 98.6°F, and the energy released powers our bodies.

Are there other gases which support combustion in the same way that oxygen does? The answer is yes! Materials like chlorine, fluorine, and bromine do exactly the same thing. It is difficult from a chemical standpoint, however, to believe that these materials could ever be involved in a living organism as an oxidizing agent. These elements are among the most active in the periodic chart, and the compounds they form are extremely heavy. Only oxygen has the density, mass, electron configuration, and chemical activity to allow life to exist.

There is no other way! The unique designs of oxygen and also of carbon are the result of a beautifully engineered chemical system that allow us to breathe and give us the capacity to move, reproduce, and respond to outside stimuli. Truly, we are fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:42) and each breath we take testifies that the plan designed to allow our survival works in an incredible way.

—John Clayton, Dandy Designs, September/October, 1995

<>
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Squarely Pegged

2007-12-31T23:38:00.001-08:00

My sister, Peggy Gunn McCracken, has done a superior job working in all capacities of the newspaper business for the Pecos Enterprise over the past 50 years or so. Now that she is semi-retired, she has published a book of some of her columns about growing up at Flomot, Texas, complete with pictures. Titled simply Squarely Pegged, it is available through Amazon.com, a very interesting read.

Peg was one of my heroes, a dark beauty who could do just about anything well, especially in the athletic department. Very photogenic, with any chance at all she could have been a famous model. But marriage at the age of sixteen took her in another direction, and even breast cancer metastisized to the bones hasn't slowed her down yet.

Way to go, Peg!

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Mansions Over the Hilltop

2007-12-27T08:43:00.000-08:00

Thank God this fading “jar of clay” is not the real me! Unlike the wrinkled old lady in the mirror, my soul improves with age and will live forever in an immortal body, a gorgeous mansion. No more stringy white hair, sagging skin, failing memory, aches and pains.

Miraculously, the more like Christ I become, the fewer hang-ups I have. His spirit within me overcomes the dying brain cells, giving me assurance that the best is yet to come. Love and forgiveness become easier. Gleaning fruits of the spirit is a pleasant task, considerably more fun than pulling bolls or shocking feed! Anger’s ugly face seldom shows itself these days, jealousy is but a dim memory. The temptations of riches and fame are buried under piles of blessings and contentment. Wishing for youth again is asking for a slide downhill.

People sometimes ask if I’m afraid, living by myself. Afraid of what? Death? Since my Lord overcame death, it is only the gate to a great adventure waiting to happen.

When this earthly tent drops away into dust like the husk of a homely cottonseed, my spirit will burst forth as an irrigated green stalk covered with an abundance of bolls, plus beautiful pink and white blooms that will never wilt or fade.

Cora Gail Trent
cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Horse Sense

2007-12-21T03:31:00.000-08:00

“There’s never been a horse that couldn’t be rode, never been a man that couldn’t be throwed,” is an old cowboy truism that never changes.
Daddy was a wonderful story teller, and all his cowboy stories were from real life, the life he loved and remembered with relish. He had left home at the age of 13, working on area ranches, especially the Merrill spread, with no dream greater than owning a good horse and saddle. He could relate the name, coloring, personality, and bucking pattern of every horse he ever rode. Before local rodeo became organized, owners of especially bad broncs would bring them to Flomot, gather a crowd, throw up a rope corral, collect a “purse” and Houston Gunn was given the chance to show his stuff. Pictures of his bronc-riding prowess can be seen in the Cowboy Hall of Fame in Oklahoma City.
The Motley-Dickens County Reunion was first held near the waterfall on Pease River near the little town of Roaring Springs, an unusually beautiful place for arid West Texas. Rodeo activity was held in the sand of the mostly dry river bed, with onlookers standing on the cliff above. Some of Hute’s kin lived in Dickens County, and this was their annual get-together. Later it grew into the Old Settlers’ Reunion, which still happens in Roaring Springs every summer, now having a rodeo arena, dance floors and other concessions.
Later, at the waterfall, a swimming pool was built, a dream land for kids during the years I was in school, and now part of a private club. No more rodeo in the sand.
When I watched Daddy break a rodeo bronc to ride in the early ‘50s, I didn’t know his style of “breaking” wasn’t the norm. He used kindness to tame the wild mare in only a few hours. Before sundown that day, Dink and I were riding her double.
As a child, it seemed to me that Daddy’s love for horses was stronger than what he demonstrated for me. But years and wisdom finally showed me that giving up his favorite way of life to raise a family took a very special kind of love.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Bear Facts

2007-12-17T18:03:00.000-08:00

Bear Facts

Most of us have had some kind of an acquaintance with bears. If we have not seen them in the wild, we have seen movies about them—both factual and fictional. Zoos always have a number of bears which are usually good attractions. As scientists study bears of all kinds, amazing facts come to light on how they live and the designs built into them to enable them to survive in some extreme climates. Consider the following:

Off-and-On Baby Techniques. Black and brown bears do not mate in the fall when fattening up for winter is a major concern. Instead, they mate in late spring and early summer. Once the sperm meets the egg, the egg begins to divide and then it just stops, dropping into a state of suspended animation. It stays in this state for several months until the bears have gorged on fall food in preparation for winter. Once that is accomplished, the eggs resume their development into a baby bear.

Kidneys Lock Up. Most animals that hibernate wake up every so often to urinate and get rid of wastes. Black and brown bears go through their entire winter sleep without urinating. This is especially amazing when you consider the fact that their body temperature does not drop anywhere near as much as hibernating animals like ground squirrels. To continue to have fairly active body function and yet no removal of waste is amazing.

They Are All Cousins. 77 years ago, scientists recognized 86 species of bears. Today science recognizes just three. The design features we have mentioned are so universal that every one seems to agree they are all one. The problem is something like some anthropologists who tend to classify every hominoid as an exotic new species of man when, in reality, they are all one with racial variations explaining the differences.

Superbear. Bears are capable of smelling something that is 40 miles away—especially food sources. A 150 pound bear can move a 300 pound rock. Brown bears can run 40 miles per hour, and polar bears can swim 40 miles.

Like all animals, bears are designed in an incredible way to survive in the environment in which they live. Polar bears do not have white fur, but rather have translucent fur that conducts light to their skin. The incredible capacity of bears to live in hostile environments in very successful ways is a testimony to the brilliance of the design of their bodies. This design is beyond capricious accidental chance. God has designed life to live in incredible places in incredible ways.

Source: International Wildlife, October, 1994, page 30-34.

—John Clayton, Dandy Designs, September/October, 1995

CortGaill Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Ruby, the Gem of Allen OK

2007-12-07T07:40:00.000-08:00

Mama's cousin, Ruby Kidwell Yount, was 93 when I first met her. So much like Mama, she immediately became one of my favorite people. She was in such great shape that folks would tell her she might live to be 100.

"Why would I want to be 100? All my friends are gone, each day is such a struggle," she said.

But now that Ruby is 98, she is looking forward to her 100th birthday with relish. She still drives to the senior center for lunch and fellowship each day, plays the piano and sings beautifully at the nursing home to entertain "the old folks", lives alone in her 98-year-old house full of antiques and memories. If a tree limb needs trimming, out comes her saw. Raking leaves while carrying a cane may be slow, but she gets the job done. Wouldn't you love to know Cousin Ruby?

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Revisiting the Good Old Days

2007-12-03T07:21:00.000-08:00

I wandered around through Oklahoma a few days last week, pestering friends and kin. Near Wynnewood I expected to see an old basketball buddy from Flomot, and was surprised to find her two sisters also. What a wonderful slumber party we had that night, two delicious meals of real "farm food", bales of country memories. If her sons are good representatives of their late dad, I'm sorry I never got to meet him. Love at first sight!

Nola, Jewel and Bobbie were about the middle of the big Starkey clan who lived on a farm west of Flomot that was first owned by Uncle Lee Gunn, next to the one my Grandpa Lycurgus Aurelius Gunn homesteaded in the early twentieth century. An unusually close-knit family, they still gather at the home place each Easter for a huge celebration and again in July to can garden produce and just enjoy each other. Their mother was a few months short of 100 when she finally lost the will to live, and her 11 offspring are well up in years now, keeping her legacy intact.

The Starkey kids were some of the best athletes in the Flomot school. Hard work on the farm seems to do that to a kid. We often climbed the rocky, rattlesnake infested hill behind their house, rode horses, shared clothes. After the house had been emptied of kids, about 1970, I knocked on their kitchen door. Charlie, with his usual friendly grin, opened the screen and I asked, "Recognize me?" Nope. "Would you know me if I was riding a bareback mare?" His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. Good old days indeed!

The Wandering Widow
Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Goodbye, Charlie Cupid

2007-12-02T14:32:00.000-08:00

Awash in a sea of grey hair, with the occasional bald island, friends and kin said our last goodbye to Charlie Cupid last week. Especially remembered for his wonderful sense of humor, Charles had more jokes than a cow patty has flies.

I fell in love with this outstanding athlete when I was a freshman in high school and he a senior, the last time we were the same height. His growth stopped at about 5'3", and he eventually broke my heart when he said, "If you don't quit growing, it looks like we'll just have to be friends." Then, a year or so later, he cured the pain by finding me the perfect soul mate. He and Harry were working together as bridge carpenters, building a blacktop highway up the Caprock west of Flomot during the summer of 1954. Thanks to his role of cupid, two bashful country kids soon became one, a marriage that lasted 47 years, producing five kids and enough great memories to last for eternity.

Thanks again, Charlie. Flomot homecomings will never be the same without you.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

The Incredible World of Sexual Reproduction

2007-11-24T07:34:00.000-08:00

Ask most people what they know about the mechanics of sexual reproduction and you are likely to get anything from a reproachful sneer to a dirty joke. Most of us have been told at some time or another that the sperm meets the egg and ultimately a baby is produced. The dynamics of what really takes place, however, is so incredibly complex that John Medina’s book The Outer Limits of Life (1991, Oliver-Nelson Books, Nashville) consumes 282 pages in just generally describing the process.
The human sperm consists of a head and a tail. The head contains two parts, one part being the nucleus which contains the genetic information for the father’s part of the genetic makeup of the child. No further information is needed for the sperm to do its task (there is no messenger RNA). Unlike most cell nuclei, there are no holes (called nuclear pores) for communication with the outside world. The sperm is singularly programmed to do its job.
The second part of the head of the sperm is called the acrosome. The acrosome is the part of the sperm that enables penetration of the egg. This is done by enzymes that can digest proteins, sugars, and the materials of which the outside of the egg is made. The tail of the sperm has a mid-section that contains tiny energy sources called mitochondria. The remainder of the tail looks like uncooked spaghetti noodles. These “noodles” slide and ratchet past each other, giving a wiggling and writhing motion that causes the head of the sperm to rotate 180° every time there is motion in the tail and moves the sperm along at a rate of about five inches per hour.
The joining of the sperm and the egg is called “one of God’s greatest miracles” by Medina (page 87). As the sperm finds the egg, it encounters an object which is as much larger than the sperm is as a basketball compares to a paper clip. The sperm must first of all penetrate the thick outer layer of the egg called the zona pellucida which contains protein that enables the sperm’s outer protein to fit into it. The egg’s protein (called ZP3) prevents sperm from other animals from entering the egg. If the ZP3 is removed, sperm from other animals can fertilize the egg. There is also sugar in the ZP3 which the sperm digests. When this happens, the acrosomal section of the head of the sperm dumps its enzymes on the zona pellucida and a hole is opened up into the egg. The head and tail of the sperm minus the nucleus is then digested by the egg with the sperm’s nucleus left floaing in the egg’s cytoplasm.
Remember that thousands of sperm are trying to do this all at once. When a sperm’s nucleus enters the egg, three things are done within seconds to prevent any other sperm from putting its nucleus inside the egg. First, an electrical change occurs in the membrane of the egg. Second, the egg makes a change in the zona pellucida that hardens it into a form of cement, and finally a chemical that consumes sugar is released, stopping the sperm from attaching to the outside of the egg. All of this is just the starting point for conception. We have left out hundreds of details, not all of which is understood. Now the nine-month (plus) process that will culminate in a baby ready to live in the outside world begins.
David said in Psalm 139, “I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” Just a superficial understanding of what happens in the complex process of sexual reproduction should convince us of the impossibility of explaining all of this by chance. God has designed a system that is so successful that man now must learn to use it wisely so as not to strain the resources of all kinds available to him.

—John Clayton, Dandy Designs, May/June, 1995

To receive John Clayton’s periodical Does God Exist?,
or any of his books, write to:

Does God Exist?
718 Donmoyer Ave.
South Bend, IN 46614-1999

FAX: 616-687-9431
E-Mail: jncdge@aol.com
Home page: http://www.doesgodexist.org/

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

The Humble Will Be Lifted Up

2007-11-13T05:41:00.000-08:00

The Humble Will Be Lifted Up

The five steps that lead to salvation are a process, not an event.
Repentance--constant changing–never ends.
The carnal body must resist the devil every day,
sometimes appearing as the best of friends.
Jesus showed us by example that we can resist temptation
as we learn to be like him in word and deed.
Abundant crops are promised if we plow and plant and harvest.
He furnishes the water and the seed.
As we follow in his footsteps, we see his great compassion,
relieving pain and suffering and woe.
His spirit of submission seems foreign to our nature,
yet his sympathy is humbling to behold
As we emulate the Savior, we can learn how to detect
when someone near is hurting deep inside.
To demonstrate compassion goes far beyond a feeling.
The need for TLC can’t be denied.
He plainly showed that love is active, does whatever work
is necessary for a friend or foe.
Like the humble child, so innocent of hidden, dark agendas,
render random acts of kindness here below.
Jesus owned no earthly home or wealth, yet gave and gave and gave
of the things most needed by a world in pain.
We have wealth and time and talents which we should gladly share,
take weary travelers on the glory train.

From a lesson by Hal Crass

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

What on Earth . . .for Heaven's Sake?

2007-11-12T07:24:00.000-08:00

What on Earth Are You Doing For Heaven’s Sake?

Are you building on solid foundation? Christ Jesus is all that you need
to prepare a heavenly mansion where happiness is guaranteed.
God can use your mistakes, bumps and bruises to prepare the soil of your soul
for implanting the seed that produces a bounty of God-control.
Self dies and is buried in water, re-born in the likeness of Christ,
freely given his grace and redemption for which his love paid the price.
Made free from sin, guilt and punishment, what are you doing now
to show your humble gratitude? Go search for new fields to plow!
Get busy burning bridges that connect you to old ways,
old haunts where sin abounded in those undisciplined days.
Scrap everything that might cause you to fondly remember the past,
the friends who would drag you back in the mire and leave you there, down-cast.
The word of grace will build you up, restore your Christian joy,
a reminder of your inheritance, hear the Father’s “attaboy!”
God is consistent; man is not, changing like shifting sands.
Your only safety is God’s love, the hollow of his hands.
Hunger and thirst for his righteousness, be a doer of his word,
communicate your faith in Christ, that the good news will be heard.
Keep songs of joy and praise in your heart, show simple gratitude,
and confidence in victory will change your attitude.
This freedom cannot be taken from you, but you can give it away.
So what on earth are you doing for heaven’s sake today?

From a sermon by Roger Holm

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

The Incredible Pine Cone

2007-11-04T13:25:00.000-08:00

Reproduction of life is an incredibly complicated and interesting area of study. From the amoeba to the human being, there are a multiplicity of sophisticated methods and strategies that allow reproduction to take place. Articles by evolutionists, creationists, and everyone in between speak of the elegant and complex design that allows reproduction to take place. The design of a pine cone which allows aerodynamic pollination to take place is one of a myriad of interesting plant reproduction techniques.

Pine trees are classified as gymnosperms by botanists. The ovule which contains the egg is not enclosed in a container as is the case in other plants. The ovule has an open end called a micropyle which carries the sperm from the pollen to the egg. In a pine tree, there are small cones growing in clusters. These small ones have pollen-producing chambers which release pollen with its sperm to the air. Female pine cones grow singularly and are generally larger. The problem is one of how to get pollen from the male to the micropyle of the female by wind alone.

Karl J. Niklas at Cornell University has discovered that female pine cones are “aerodynamically designed to filter large amounts of pollen from the air.” Using helium filled bubbles and a wind tunnel, they were able to show that the shape of the interior area of the pine cone funnels wind so that the wind’s contents will be deposited right on top of the micropyle. Would this pattern not deposit everything on top of the micropyle—dust, other plants’ pollen and precipitation?

Each plant’s cone has a slightly different shape than every other plant. In addition to that, each plant’s pollen has a different size and density. Only one density and volume will accumulate right at the micropyle. All other densities will end up somewhere else in the cone, but not where it needs to be to reach the micropyle and ultimately the ovule.

In addition to this incredible system, there are all kinds of other features that can be used to assist gymnosperm reproduction. In some pine trees, the pollen is not released until temperatures approaching 1,000° reaches them. Such pines are ideally designed to re-seed a forest fire area when all other plant life may have been destroyed. The very fact that those who study these features see them as an indication of a high level of design shows that intelligence is involved in the process. To see this intelligence to be a product of chance would seem to this writer to be a greater leap of faith than to recognize a master aeronautical engineer—a God of infinite knowledge that designed and planned all reproductive systoms.

(Data taken from “Aerodynamics of Wind Pollination” by Karl Niklas, Scientific American, July, 1987, pages 90-95.)

—John Clayton, Dandy Designs, November/December, 1994

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Practice Makes Perfect

2007-11-04T05:51:00.001-08:00

Practice Makes Perfect

Every now and then I get the yen to become a gourmet cook. I get out The Joy of Cooking, study menus and recipes, admire the elegantly decorated cakes, drool over the endless possibilities. And then I open a can of soup for supper.

Is it possible that we sometimes practice Christianity the way I cook? Do we spend more time with the Book than actually combining ingredients to make a better self? Do we memorize scripture, “chapter and verse,” in order to tell others about our faith and then fail to tell them with our lives?

Think of the people who have meant the most to you. Was their religion more obvious in word or in deed? I have learned more about the realities of Christianity from the life of a righteous alcoholic than from all the preachers I have ever heard. And if you think “righteous alcoholic” is a contradiction in terms, you have truly missed a blessing.

We have not been admonished to go out and stir up controversy in order to show off our Bible knowledge. If the way we live is not of such quality as to evoke curiosity about our faith, what good does it do to have a ready answer?

If reading a book about cooking or basketball or music is of little value without regular practice, how much more vigilant we should be to subject Christianity to daily workouts, to be like Christ, not just talk about him. We can hardly hope to convert our neighbors simply by using scripture to prove a point in an argument.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Why Me, Lord?

2007-10-14T13:10:00.000-07:00

St. George, Utah is a very unique city surrounded by mountains, hills and cliffs of all colors. Local rocks are used generously on houses, walls and landscaping for a most pleasant effect. A spring somewhere in the red cliffs flows down into town, forming a beautiful pond surrounded by cattails, reminding me of the fresh water pond that suddenly developed on our farm at Carey. This fast-flowing supply of water irrigates lawns and gardens all over the valley. No wonder the Mormons decided to settle here, raising cotton and tobacco and whatever garden produce they needed. Every few blocks along the main thoroughfares stands a large, modern church building with a sign: Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, as well as an older building called a tabernacle. According to the phone book, there are also other denominations, but none was seen on our jaunts about town.

Our reason for being in this neck of the woods was the Huntsman World Senior Games, an annual event that draws thousands of older folks from around the globe. This year 54 countries were represented in a multitude of sports. Some of the ladies on our basketball team were also entered in tennis and other games. Latvia brought two gaggles of gals and showed us some new moves on the court that were quite interesting.

Only two teams were entered in the 70-year-old division, including everyone between 70 and 80. Albuquerque’s Canyon Nets and the Silver Slammers from River Ridge, Louisiana played each other three times, plus some practice games with two younger teams, which were all great fun. They had two women taller than me, and I’m considerably taller than the other players on our team, so we got clobbered repeatedly, but with wonderful sportsmanship. What a fun way to make new friends! I hope we will see them again in Santa Fe’s tourney next month.

To top off my exciting three days of travel and play, I got to spend time with two of my three “adopted sons” from teenage years, Clifford and PeeWee Kell. When their younger brother, Mike, was just a baby, I started keeping them occasionally, and they soon grew to be just like family. PeeWee is employed with the St. George water works, soon to retire; Cliff and wife Bonnie live in Las Vegas, as does Mike, who was not able to come to the games. They will always be a special chapter in my book of fond memories.

For pictures of this event, go to: www.dancingrabbits.com/tootie/page1.htm

Today I keep singing the Kris Kristopherson song, “Why Me, Lord. . .What have I ever done to deserve even one of the pleasures I’ve known?”

Cora Gail Trent
cgtrent@att.net
www.cgtrent.com

Zoopharmacognosy

2007-10-05T16:04:00.000-07:00

Eloy Rodriguez at the University of California and Richard Wrangham at Harvard University have added a new word to the vocabulary of science. The reason for this new word is that they have discovered that animals use plants in medicinal ways to treat illness, and the word they have coined to describe and name this new discipline of science is zoopharmacognosy.

What has been discovered is that some animals systematically use plants to solve specific medical problems. It has been noticed, for example, that chimpanzees in Tanzania would swallow whole the rolled-up leaf of a plant called Aspilia. The leaves are large and covered with bristly hairs and have a very bitter taste. It was difficult to believe that the plant was being eaten as food, so scientists studied its chemical makeup to see if they could find a clue as to why the chimps eat it as we might take a pill. The results of the study showed that the plant eaten in this way gives the animal a large dose of thiarubrine-A. This drug has been studied at Purdue University where it has been shown to kill a variety of worms, fungi, and viruses. In larger amounts, it even attacks and kills the kind of cancer cells found in solid cancers of the colon and lung. Studies done on Japanese chimps have shown that, when they get diarrhea, they eat a plant called Veronia by splitting open the stems and sucking a bitter tasting juice from the pith. This juice has been shown to kill parasites, and it cured the diarrhea in some 20 hours.

During mating season in Brazil, the spider monkeys have been observed to start eating a fruit called monkey ear. Studies have shown that this fruit contains progesterone which promotes female fertility. Studies of female elephants in eastern Africa have shown that, right before giving birth, they eat a plant which is known to induce labor in human beings. Kodiak brown bears have been observed to take a plant known as Ligusticum porteri, chew up the root until it became a paste, and then rub it on their faces and all over their bodies. This plant contains coumarins—a chemical that repels fleas, ticks, and fungi. Field reports show that, after using the plant, the bears are calmer and less antagonistic.

There are several lessons to be learned from zoopharmacognosy. One is that we need to be careful as to what plants we allow to become extinct because many of them may offer cures to the medical problems of mankind. Another is that animals have been provided with knowledge that enables them to heal themselves through natural agents. How they get that knowledge can be a subject of debate, but since animals born in captivity know how to use the medicines, it seems to be instinctive—not learned. We would suggest that, in the design of the genetic code, an intelligence has provided a cure for what ails our animal friends. This design demands a designer.

Source: National Wildlife, December/January, 1994, pages 46-49.

—John Clayton, Dandy Designs, September/October, 1994

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com

I Scream, You Scream, All Scream for Ice Cream

2007-10-04T09:33:00.000-07:00

I was almost 6 years old when we moved from Whitesboro back to Flomot. As we piled into the back of Kuykendall's grocery truck with a load of apples, Walter (age 11) said, "Maybe we'll stop along the way and get an ice cream comb."
For fear of seeming foolish, I suppose, I seldom asked questions, but kept wondering what in the world is an ice cream comb? The only ice cream I knew anything about was made at home from snow, cream, sugar and vanilla. Later I watched someone use an ice cream freezer with a contnainer in the middle surrounded by ice and salt, turned by hand forever until it changed from milk, eggs, and sugar into a delicious icy treat. But I don't remember when I finally tasted an ice cream comb. Probably on a Saturday when we went to Quitaque in the old school bus that served as our family conveyance during the years Daddy drove the kids to school.
I do remember the first soft ice cream delight I encountered at Matador, maybe in the early 50s. Seems like the name was Tasty Freeze or some such. Just pull the handle and watch it pile up in the cone. No struggle with a scoop into the hard frozen substance that tested muscles and patience.
Then, about four years ago, I was taken back to childhood while visiting in Fredericksburg, VA. Son-in-law Ed took us to an old fashioned ice cream stand that not only had unbelievable choices in flavor, but the real waffle cone of my youth. I had forgotten how different and tasty they were. The more things change, the more they stay the same.
I seldom buy ice cream because I can't resist "eating it all gone", but I do scoop up a bowl of snow now and then, add sweetened condensed milk, vanilla, and maybe chocolate syrup for a refreshing taste of the Good Old Days.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

What's in a Name?

2007-09-23T22:01:00.000-07:00

Rinnngg, rinnngg. rinnngg. . .

"Hello. . ."

"Hello. Who is this?" Rude, yes, but it happens.

"Well, that depends on who wants to know," I answer.

Some people only know me as "Mrs. Trent."

If it's one of my siblings or a cousin, the answer is "Tootie."

To those of my Flomot school family, I'm "Cora Gail."

High school basketball competitors tagged me with the title "Gunn Butt."

Harry's relatives and folks at Childress call me "Gail."

When I recently got back into basketball, another team member was named "Gail", so in order to cut down on the confusion, I asked to be called "Cora." One of the coaches didn't like that moniker, and I suggested "Tootie" instead. That seemed to fit better, so now on the court I answer to four different names. When asked by another player which name I prefer, I was really stumped. Who gets to choose her own name?!

Mama almost called me Abigail, but gave me her sister Cora's name instead. Most of the folks at Flomot pronounce it "Corgail," and it served me quite well until I married. Then one day my mother-in-law announced, "We'll be calling you 'Gail' "--not ,"Would it be alright?" or "What would you prefer?"

In those days (kids now would laugh out loud at this idea) we were taught not to question our elders, so I had not only lost the proud last name of Gunn but my first one as well. I felt as though I was supposed to act like another person, that Cora Gail was not good enough for this family. Oh well. . . life is all about adjustment to change.

I was always afraid to ask where I got the nickname "Tootie," my favorite. To me it says, "You may be a nut like Aunt Cora, but I love you anyway."

Cora Gail Gunn Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

WIND

2007-09-17T12:39:00.001-07:00

by Peter Bowyer, Meteorologist, Nova Scotia, Canada

Have you ever gone to the beach on a nice summer's day and noticed the pleasant wind that develops from over the water about mid-morning? If you have, then you have experienced one of the simplest, and oldest known negative feedback mechanisms in the atmosphere--the sea breeze.
The sea breeze results from the land heating up more rapidly than the water on sunny days. The heated air over the land becomes more buoyant and rises to a higher elevation. Since there is now more air aloft over the land than at the same elevation just offshore, there is a pressure build-up. Similarly, at the surface, the pressure over the land has dropped relative to just offshore because the rising air has created a slight vacuum. The overall effect is a small circulation of air which brings cooler marine air over the land, thereby moderating the temperature difference which started the whole process in the first place. This is called a negative feedback mechanism.
The atmosphere obeys the basic rules of physics such as Newton's second law of thermodynamics. This law states that all natural systems move toward increasing disorder--in other words, they must wind down. Meteorologists observe this daily as the earth's surface, heated unevenly by the sun, produces hot and cold spots and thus differences in atmospheric pressure. The fun begins when forecasters try to figure out how the atmosphere will adapt to Newton's law. Wind is the result of differences in pressure--the result of the atmosphere trying to "smooth things out" once again. The stronger the pressure difference, the stronger the wind. Even on the large scale, however, it is not unlike the idea of the sea breeze. Air is shunted across the earth's surface in order to even out the temperatures: hot air moves north and cold air heads south. In mid-latitudes, such as Canada and the U.S., this movement of air happens in the form of high and low pressure areas which you hear your local forecaster referring to.
The highs and lows, however, are just the "big-picture." The more interesting things happen on a smaller scale where Newton's second law still applies. Besides the strength of the pressure pattern, the wind is also very dependent on other factors such as pressure changes, friction (roughness of the earth's surfact), turning effects and stability (how bouyant the air is). Let us take a quick look at each of these.
The frictional force acts to slow the wind down. Fortunately, as the wind gets stronger, the frictional force gets stronger--causing the wind to slow down. It would be very difficult to live in a world where the wind just kept getting stronger. Over the sea, waves are generated by wind. As the wind picks up, the waves get higher, causing more drag on the wind, thereby slowing it down, allowing the waves to decrease slightly. This all happens quickly such that a balance is soon established. The main point is that friction is a limiting force in regard to wind systems.
High pressure areas are accompanied by anticyclonic winds--winds that travel clockwise (in the northernm Hemisphere) around the high. When winds turn anticyclonically, this results in a boosting effect that must be added to the pressure wind. Fortunately, as winds become more anticyclonic, the pressure pattern must weaken in order for other atmospheric balances to be maintained. This means that the boosting effect will be added to a smaller wind to start with.
Low pressure areas, on the other hand, are acoompanied by cyclonic winds--winds that travel counter-clockwise around the low. Winds turning in this fashion result in a diminishing effect which must be subtracted from the pressure wind. Fortunately, storm systems are cyclonic, meaning that although there may be a very strong pressure wind, there is also a limiting effect due to the turning of the wind. In most storm systems, the strongest pressure wind is just to the left of the storm's track--Fortunately, the strongest cyclonic effects occur at this same place. Were this not the case, many of our winter storms would be packing hurricane force winds.
Not only does the wind result from pressure differences, but it also is affected by changes in the pressure pattern. These changes have to be significant in order for them to have any measurable impact--and this is the case in rapidly moving or intensifying storms. These pressure change effects can either add to, or subtract from, the pressure wind. Fortunately, they subtract from the wind in storms just to the left of the storm's track where the pressure wind is high. As well, the place where they add the most is fortunately in a place where atmospheric stability is greatest--just to the right of the storm's track. Stability helps to keep the winds diminished, so a boosting effect here is not as bad as it could be. Countless times I have heard forecasters express an appreciation to Mother Nature for being forgiving in the way she balances forces. If the forces were to balance the other way, we would likely be unable to tolerate living in such a harsh climate.
As a Christian and an admirer of the Master's handiwork, I see no coincidence or fortune in any of this. What I do see is design. And where there is a design there is a designer. If we look at the world with truly objective eyes, we will clearly see the hand of the Maker. Just as Paul said,

For since the creation of the world, God's invisible qualities--his eternal power and
divine nature--have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made,
so that men are without excuse. (Romans 1:20)

Dandy Designs, May/June, 1994

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

THE BIG E

2007-09-17T02:06:00.000-07:00

Energy, enthusiasm, encouragement, exercise, enjoyment, entertainment, effort, elation. . . these words and more describe my latest adventure into the world of senior olympics basketball. It has recently taken me to San Diego for a tournmanet with a wonderful bunch of folks who helped us prove old age is not for sissies. Even the young audience seemed happy to see that later life is not doomed to be spent in a rocking chair. Ladies who were not able to play the sport were on hand to serve delicious food and encourage us in our fun.

Learning a new game at 70 has been an Exciting Elder Educational Experience. Three-on-three half-court basketball is quite different from the way we played 50+ years ago when I was in high school. Some of our team had never played the game before, and call it a dream-come-true. Everyone is so friendly and helpful, even on the opposing teams, and we often heard apologies for fouls and goofs. It seemed more like a family reunion than competition.

Besides the four games we played, there were free-throw and hot-shot contests that some chose not to enter, so the competition was sparse. Probably only one other lady was in my age bracket, as I won a medal in each category. And since there was only one other team our age, we automatically took second place without winning a single game. Our team, which had little practice together beforehand, was beginning to jell a bit by the fouth game against a younger team, and did quite well. No matter what numbers were on the scoreboard, the Canyon Nets had as much fun as the best team in the gym.

Onward and upward!

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Ignorance is Not Bliss--A Child's Perspective

2007-08-24T14:20:00.000-07:00

I was five years old when World War Two started. The only "war" I knew anything about was the "bob war" fence I had to wriggle through to reach the spring where we got our water in the tiny community of Spring Grove, Texas. I couldn't understand why the adults were is such a tizzy.
Soon our family of seven had to walk to the nearby school house and register for books of stamps in order to buy things that were in short supply, such as sugar. Since we didn't have enough money to buy sugar, anyway, we gave most of our stamps away.
The only way Daddy had of earning money at Spring Grove was cutting trees with a crosscut saw and selling the wood to neighbors. When the war effort needed most of the rubber that was available, replacing the worn out tires on his old pickup was impossible, and his income dried up. He hitchhiked back to Flomot and worked for an old friend until he could make enough money to move the family back to home territory.
I heard just enough adult conversation to know the dull green planes that flew overhead had something to do with the war and bombs. Somehow I thought the bombs were carried on top of the wings, and whenever one banked to turn, I started looking for a safe place to hide from the bombs that were sure to fall off. But where do you hide from a bomb?
After we moved back to Flomot and I started to school, somewhere I saw a swastika. Having no idea what it meant, I thought it looked really neat, so I took a piece of chalk and drew a swastika on every board of the old unpainted shack we lived in. Boy! I might as well have printed the cuss words I was learning.
We had no radio or newspaper, so our news had to come by word of mouth. One day I saw Daddy running across the field from the landlord's house, a spectacular sight for an old man in his fifties. He had just got news that the war was over. No more swastikas.

Cora Gail Gunn Trent
www.cgtrent.com

Fear

2007-08-18T04:43:00.000-07:00

"Aren't you afraid to live by yourself?" people have asked.

Afraid of what? I think.

A cowardly rapist is looking for a helpless female. Out in the yard, a 175-pound basketball player with a hoe or shovel in her hand doesn't exactly look helpless. When in the house my .45 is handy, the same weapon that has put a hole through the narrow body of a rattlesnake. The torso of a menacing man for a target should be no problem.

But the main reason I don't tremble with fear is that I have the greatest protector of all, the Lord who is the author of joy and peace. Whatever happens to this mortal body, he has promised me eternal rest for my faithful soul. Not one of his promises has ever failed.

At the age of 70, my body shows signs of wear. Blood veins in my hands bulge beneath the mottled skin, reminding me of the intricate design God has built into all things. Nature is the first book of faith he published for us, and the best is yet to come. So what is to fear?

Read Blessed are the Peacemakers at www.cgtrent.com.

Cora Gail Trent

Can a Bug Be as Big as a House?

2007-07-30T14:59:00.000-07:00

Taken from Dandy Designs
March/April, 2000
by
John Clayton

In 1961, a film titled Mothra told a story about a moth as big as three football fields terrorizing Tokyo. More recently, we have had films like Starship Troopers telling horror stories about spiders the size of buses and ticks that weigh 70 tons. The question is whether such monster-sized arthropods could really exist and if not, why not? The answer is that the design of their bodies makes gargantuan bugs pure fantasy.
Biologists have known for many years that there is a law called the 1/4-power law in the biological world. What this law says is that, if you double the size of an animal, you do not double its diet, strength, reproduction, etc. What happens is that the formulas for these quantities will contain exponents of 1 to 4. An example may help. A horse might be 16 times heavier than a dog. Would a dog's heart beat 16 times as fast as a horse? What the 1/4-power law says is that the rate will be an exponent of 4. Four squared is 16, so the exponent of 4 is 2. The dog's heart will beat twice as fast.
This works for just about every characteristic plants and animals have. The question is why? Studies released in a number of periodicals are showing that the design of internal structures in living things is the cause of the ratio. Animal metabolism is related to surface area by ratios of 3 to 4, obeying the rule. Blood vessels and energy released from molecules obey this rule. The use of fractal mathematics has shown that these ratios have engineering principles built into them which control biological activities. There cannot be bugs the size of a house because their whole biological system would collapse.
On this planet at least, God has used engineering principles that keep a balance in nature which not only allows man to exist, but also preserves the resources of the planet so life can continue for the long haul.
Reference: Science News, October 16, 1999, page 249

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com

Iron and Health

2007-07-05T16:58:00.000-07:00

The latest Alternatives newsletter by Dr. David Willams is quite interesting. He says that excess iron in the human body is the cause of many health problems, including cancer, heart failure and diabetes. The difference in the number of heart attacks in men and women before menopause was once thought to be caused by female hormones, but now is known to be related to blood loss. As the body ages, more iron is retained, thus more free radicals are present. The best way to avoid the damage of excess iron is to donate blood twice a year, a very simple procedure that not only helps the donor, but may save three other lives in the process.
If you are interested in more health news, go to drdavidwilliams.com.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com

Chemosynthesis: Another Design for Life

2007-07-03T06:36:00.000-07:00

Taken from Dandy Designs
by
John Clayton

In order for man to live on this plant, there are an enormous number of conditions and materials that have to be very carefully planned. When a group of scientists attempted to build a totally closed self-sustaining habitat in which humans could live (called Biosphere), it was such a colossal failure that even those who had predicted its demise were amazed at how quickly conditions inside the facility became intolerable.
One thing that seems to sustain man on the earth is the sheer quantity of life on this planet. We find organisms in the air, in all kinds of water, in the ground, in our bodies, and even inside our machines. One of the most interesting discoveries made in recent years has been the discovery that life exists in hydrothermal vents, over a mile below the surface of the ocean. As scientists have studied this life, they find it is very similar to life on the surface of the water except it functions without light. Complex chemical reactions fix carbon dioxide by a process known as the Calvin cycle both in light dependent organisms and in chemically driven organisms. The difference is that light and chemosynthesis organisms are sulfide oxidizing bacteria. Hydrogen sulfide is given off by the vents on the sea floor. The bacteria take the sulfur in the hydrogen sulfide and oxidize it, producing energy. This energy drives all life forms in the deep sea vents, producing sugars, fats, and amino acids in living forms very much as plants do, but based on sulfur. Like photosynthesis this process is highly complex, but it sustains a huge number of animals in the sea and may sustain life elsewhere.
It is hard to visualize how rotten egg gas (the nickname for hydrogen sulfide) could be used to support abundant quantities of life. The design of the system not only produces abundant life, but it removes natural sulfur pollution from the sea. God's biosphere works because of the wide variety and interdependence of living things. When you realize that humans armed with computers and huge amounts of data and hardware could not design a biosphere that would work, it would seem that believing chance to be the creating force of life on planet Earth would be out of any reasonable possibility. Chemosynthesis and photosynthesis speak loudly about God's wisdom and planning in the cosmos. --May/June, 1998

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com

Why Isn't Your Brain in Your Foot?

2007-06-25T17:00:00.000-07:00

Taken from Dandy Designs
March/April 1996
by John N. Clayton

In Psalm 139:14, the writer praises God by noting the design in the human body. "I am fearfully and wonderfully made," the writer says as he goes on to praise God's wisdom in all he produces. I once had a student who argued against the existence of God by noting all the injuries and problems people have because their heads are located five or six feet up in the air. "If God designed us, why isn't your brain in your foot?" he asked. "Then there would be a much lower risk of injury and it would be much easier to protect the brain."
The answer to this question comes out of the area of physics that deals with fluids. We all know that, when you dive deep into a lake, the pressure gets larger the deeper you go. In fact, the pressure increases in fresh water at the rate of 62.4 pounds per square foot for each one foot in depth you go--so 10 feet down in a lake, the pressure is 624 pounds per square foot larger than at the surface. This is also true of blood.
At the very top of a six foot tall person's head, the pressure is at a minimum. In that person's feet, the pressure of the blood is nearly 400 pounds per square foot higher. For this reason, it is much more likely that a blood vessel may break in your foot than it is in your head. As a person gets older, it is sometimes possible to see places where blood vessels have broken in ankles or feet. This may cause some pain and may produce some aesthetic problems, but it is not life threatening. What would happen, however, if the rupturing blood vessels were in the person's brain? The reason your brain is not in your foot is very obvious when you look at the fluid pressures and other dynamics involved.
Not only is the positioning of organs carefully designed to conform to the physics of fluids, but the system as a whole works because of it. In order to get enough blood to the brain to allow it to work, a law of physics called Pascal's law is used. Pascal's law says "pressure exerted on a fluid is distributed uniformly throughout the fluid." When the heart puts pressure on the blood, that pressure is distributed uniformly throughout the blood. This means the brain gets enough blood to function while the lower part of the body gets blood that has additional pressure on it by the blood column's height being added to the heart's function
When medical scientists look at each organ in the body, they find that every part of the body maximizes the use of the physical forces made available to it. We are fearfully and wonderfully made, with a complexity that still challenges the best scientific minds among us.

How Do You Touch?

2007-06-20T13:59:00.000-07:00

Taken from Dandy Designs
September/October, 2000
by John N. Clayton

In a recent article on haptics (the Greek-derived word for the study of touch) in Smithsonian, June, 2000, page 38, MIT’s “touch lab” is mentioned. This is a laboratory run by Mandayam Srinivasan that is especially concerned with how the human hand perceives touch. The sensitivity of the human hand is incredible. Each fingertip has about 2,000 receptors just for touch. These receptors are so sensitive that they can detect a dot just three microns high. To get a feeling for how small this is, a human hair is more than 50 microns in diameter. If you had a surface that had a rough spot on it that was .000000075 meters high, your finger could detect it. Visible light is slightly less than 10 times smaller than that, so our fingers are not too far away from being able to detect the presence or absence of different colors of light.
Trying to understand how all this is possible has gotten researchers into an area so complex that there is still no answer as to how it works. It appears that the fingerprint ridges on the bottom of your outer skin layer act as amplifiers. These ridges are much like the ridges you see when you look at your fingerprint. Not only are there several kinds of nerve receptors that give us the sensation of touch, but there are also receptors for other sensations. Some receptors detect heat and a completely different set of receptors detect cold–both calibrated against normal body temperature so they only work if the temperature goes above or below 98.6 degrees F. There are three kinds of pain receptors–one for mechanical pain, one for thermal pain, and one for chemical pain. There is a separate set of receptors for itch. Some of these sensors sense the stretch of your skin around joints as you move, providing information about how your body is moving. These stretches can be understood even with your eyes closed. Srinivasan says “We have no idea how these electrical impulses translate into perceptions and feelings.”
Trying to explain all of this on the basis of mechanistic chance that favors survival is a difficult task. Many things we use our hands for have nothing to do with survival (like playing a musical instrument or painting a picture or being folded in prayer). Some of the sensory abilities we have might even interfere with survival. A claw might be a better defense against a carnivore than a nerve-filled finger. We would suggest that our sense of touch is another example that we “. . . are fearfully and wonderfully made. Marvelous are thy works and that my soul knoweth right well” (Psalm 139:14).

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com

The Incredible Bat

2007-06-18T07:11:00.000-07:00

Taken from Dandy Designs
May/June 1997
by John N. Clayton

Most of us have had an unpleasant experience at one time or another in our lives with bats. There have been several times in my public school teaching experience when a bat got loose in my classroom scattering screaming students as it swooped around the room trying to find a way out. These negative experiences tend to make us have a negative attitude toward this most interesting and useful creature.
Bats are incredible creatures. Radar screens sometimes find them covering as much as 10,000 square miles in their search for food. Insect eating bats will eat nearly their body weight in bugs in a single night. One study of the bats in Bracken Cave in Texas found that their digestive systems and fruit are designed so the seeds of the fruit are not damaged by digestion. The result is the bats plant all kinds of fruit-bearing trees and bushes sustaining beneficial plant populations. This is especially true in desert and rain forest areas.
Almost all of the negative stories and fears about bats are untrue. When someone says "blind as a bat" they are way off base. Some bats can see a bug the size of a rice grain by starlight. Our best military night scopes are needed for man to see that well. Fear of rabies is an overstated problem. Only 24 people are believed to have contracted rabies from a bite in the whole history of the United States, and the common brown bat has never given rabies to anyone even though it is our most common bat. There are no vampire bats north of Mexico, and vampires do not suck blood--they lap up blood from a wound. Bats do not get snarled in women's hair and will avoid contact with a human if they possibly can.
Bats are incredibly designed. They can fly 80 miles per hour, can share a cave with 8.7 million other bats and and get along, and with 8.7 million bats in a cave a mother bat can find her baby every time recognizing its vocal pattern. Even the location device to find insects is incredible. High frequency sounds are emitted through the bat's nose or mouth. The ultrasonic sounds bounce back to the bat which tells the bat where the bug is, its size, shape, and direction of motion. Fruit bats have delicate senses of smell and sight and do not use echolocation methods. The bat is designed to help man by controlling insects, pollinating flowers, or planting beneficial plants. The sophistication of the highly complex animal speaks of design that could only be accomplished by a talented engineer--not by blind chance.
Data Sources: Popular Science, November, 1996, pages 53, 58: International Wildlife, May/June, 1992, pages 4-10.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com

Lesson from Geese

2007-06-10T04:36:00.000-07:00

Quotes from Dandy Designs
by John N. Clayton
March/April, 1994

When you see geese flying along in a V formation, you might be interested in knowing what scientists have discovered about why they fly that way. As each bird flaps its wings, the wind currents it creates produce an uplift for the bird immediately following.
By flying in a V formation, the whole flock adds at least 71 percent greater flying range than if each bird flew on its own. Lesson 1: People who share a common direction and sense of community can get where they are going quicker and easier because they are traveling on each other's thrust.
Whenever a goose falls out of formation, it suddenly feels the drag and resistance of trying to go it alone and quickly gets back into formation to take advantage of the lifting power of the bird immediately in front. Lesson 2: If we take a tip from the geese, we will stay in formation with those who are headed the same way we are going and stay with the task at hand.
When the lead goose gets tired, he drops to the back and another goose flies the point position. Lesson 3: It pays to take turns when doing hard jobs.
Geese honking encourage those up front. Lesson 4: We respond to encouragement from others.
Finally, when a goose gets sick, or is wounded and falls out of formation, two geese fall out with him and follow him down to help and protect him. They stay with him until he is either able to fly or until he is dead. They then launch out on their own or with another formation to continue their journey. Final lesson: If we follow the example of geese, we will stand by each other in the same way.

Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.--Galationa 6:2

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com

Active Retirement

2007-06-07T21:21:00.000-07:00

When Molly and Tony brought me the fancy two-wheeled cart to replace the old red wheelbarrow, I thought it would have a well deserved retirement, maybe sit in a special spot and serve as a container for flowers. Then, as I prepared to paint the house and discovered I had left my paint roller tray at Jay and Tammy's, I lined the wheelbarrow with plastic attached with duct tape and discovered it was far better than the store-bought version. After a long day of strowing paint, the plastic was rolled up and thrown into the dumpster, quick and easy clean-up.

Some days I feel like the rock-dented wheelbarrow, past my prime and ready to give up. My three-score-and-ten has been varied and interesting, and the beckoning rocking chair hardly ever rests my bones for long. Another project, a new adventure, a needy neighbor seem to be the impetus necessary to get me out of bed every morning. Maybe I would earn more respect if I would act my age, but that possibility is unlikely in the near future.

Today, with the help of the old wheelbarrow, I painted a bathroom bright pink and decorated the walls with colorful pictures of outhouses collected from outdated calendars that I just couldn't throw away. Next I plan to use chicken feed sacks to make a poke bonnet like Mama always wore in the cotton patch, and maybe an apron, to display on my wall of memories from the farm. That is, whenever there is time between basketball practice for the Senior Olympics, hauling rocks and keeping my half acre in good shape. It's really Molly and Tony's half acre, but they told me to treat it as though it were mine, and I surprise them now and then by being obedient. Thus far, old age is a constant adventure.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

The Miraculous Light Spectrum

2007-06-06T19:57:00.000-07:00

Another Page From Dandy Designs
by
John N. Clayton

Anyone who examines the human eye carefully and investigates how we see has to be impressed with the incredible design of the eye. Many people fail to realize that the light that the eye sees is also an incredibly designed physical creation. Just explaining what light is and how it can have both wave properties and particle properties fills a lot of pages in most physics books. Light has frequency which lets it do things waves do such as diffraction and interference. It also has mass when it travels which disappears when it stops, allowing light to produce electricity from certain crystals and travel through a vacuum.
The thing that is miraculous about light is that it has all of these properties which allow it to do things that would not seem possible to most of us. Photons of light have different energies which allow light to do different things. The different colors that we see are because light has different energies--red light being lower energy than blue. Our eyes have special structures called cones which allow us to see colors--something most animals do not possess (just birds, some insects, and apes). The beauty of our world can be seen because of the different energies of light that surround us. The rainbow is caused by different energies of light interacting in different ways with drops of water in the atmosphere.
Our eyes only see a very small percentage of the light that is around us. Radio waves have a much lower energy than what our eyes see. The lower energy means that radio waves can pass through things like the walls of our homes which visible light cannot do. This means that we can turn on a radio inside our home and receive the radio waves that operate our televisions and radios. Microwaves are also light--again outside of our ability to see. These waves can cause water molecules to pick up energy without changing anything else in the material the water is in, and this allows us to cook our food. X-rays are higher in energy than what our eyes can see, and their energy allows them to pass through our bodies and show things we cannot see with our naked eyes alone. Gamma rays are even higher energy than X-rays and can be used to treat cancer and make measurements. Infrared heats us, ultraviolet tans us, and special very long waves can be used for communications.
If our eyes could receive all of the light around is, it would do little good to close our eyes. Even with our eyes closed, we would see a jumble of light waves, including radio, TV, X-rays, microwaves, et. Some animals can see in these other parts of the light spectrum. Rattlesnakes can see in the infrared so, on a totally dark night, the snake can see a rat because of the heat which the rat's body emits. The way animals use light is incredible, but it is even more remarkable to consider the nature of light itself and what it has to be like to allow all of these uses to be made. When the Creator said, "Let there be light," there was a statement of the start of a truly remarkable creation which sustains the entire physical cosmos in which we live.
(This subject is available in one of our children's books Why Is the Sky Blue? Why Are Trees Green?) --July/August 1998

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com

In Praise of Wood

2007-06-04T10:08:00.000-07:00

From Dandy Designs
March/April, 1995
by John N. Clayton

Many of us have a fascination with wood. We admire wood tables and furniture and see wood as a renewable fuel and building material. Our love affair with wood has not been just aesthetic. Wood is less damaging to the blades of knives or carving tools than either plastic or glass.

Over recent years, wood has been criticized by many, including the U.S. Department of Agriculture, as a source of bacteria–the claim being that non-porous surfaces like plastic are less likely to allow bacteria to escape cleaning and, being synthetic, would kill more bacteria. The newest research shows, in the words of Science News, February 6, 1993, pages 84-85, “pathogens prefer plastic.”

University of Wisconsin–Madison microbiologists Dean Cliver and Nese AK were trying to find decontamination techniques that would make wood as safe as plastic. What they found was that, if they innoculated wood boards with either Salmonella, Listeria, or Escherichia coli (all food poisoning agents), 99% of the bacteria died. When put on plastic, none of them died. Left overnight, the plastic bacteria multiplied and none were found on the wood. Innoculating plastic and wood on three consecutive days and leaving them unwashed and at room temperature, the wood had 99.9% fewer bacteria than had been placed on them. In the words of the experimenter, “the plastic boards were downright disgusting.” Wood has anti-bacterial properties that are not found in any man-made material. The researchers have tested maple, birch, beech, black cherry, basswood, butternut, and American black walnut with the same results. Whether it is old or new does not seem to matter.

The U.S.D.A. says that their recommendation of acrylic or other non-porous material was based on common sense and no scientific data. It would appear that, like a lot of other things, the government’s refusal to recognize God and His wisdom and design has gotten them into trouble. God designed wood not just for the beauty and functionality it brings into mankind’s existence, but also to improve our health and well being. One finds a biblical reference in Leviticus 15:12 that indicates the ancients knew of wood’s superiority in cleansing. (Thanks to Linda Ellson for the lead on this article.)

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com

Tourist Trap

2007-06-02T07:09:00.000-07:00

Madrid (pronounced Mad rid), New Mexico is a tiny tourist town on Highway 14, once a coal mining community, and these days often a movie set. A new diner was erected for “Wild Hogs”, and now sits idle except for the sign in the window listing the stars of the show.

Shops along the highway sell everything from clothing to jewelry to oriental rugs. Yesterday Dyan and I enjoyed delicious Cuban cuisine in an outdoor restaurant next door to a shop displaying Cuban art.

Java Junction’s sign on the gate advertised itself as the MADrid HATTER, but hats were only a small part of their varied merchandise.

After visiting the last gallery which displayed, among other works of art, unique chandeliers that sell for as much as $24,000 each, we walked across a platform that I recognized as a scale, like the ones that weighed our cotton trailers at the gin. I suppose this one was used for weighing coal to be loaded onto railroad cars.

This was my second visit to Madrid but probably not the last, a very pleasant way to spend an afternoon. Thanks, Dyan!

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

A Family Reunion That Pays

2007-05-31T08:08:00.000-07:00

Texas Hill Country is the perfect place for a family reunion. And it helps a lot to have a niece there to make all the arrangements, secure the perfect spot on the shore of Lake Travis, have her boat on hand for exciting rides, provide food and games and even T-shirts with the Gunn Clan logo and family tree. I suppose she even ordered the drought-breaking rains that refilled the lake and kept the sky overcast, temperature mild. Thanks, Nancy and Barbara, for all the hard work!

Peg's granddaughter, Amanda, served ably as our chauffeur, keeping stress levels to a minimum as we hustled from airport to motel to lakeside. When they dropped me off at the airport Sunday morning, I had just found the proper gate when the gal at the desk asked for volunteers to take a later flight for a $50 bonus. I told her I would just as soon go to Lubbock to meet my new great-granddaughter, and my total refund came to $73. While waiting the extra hour for my flight to Lubbock via Dallas, who should turn up but Nancy and Barbara on their way to Alabama to watch the Angelo State baseball team (coached by Nancy's brother-in-law, Kevin Brooks) play in the College World Series. We enjoyed a nice visit until flight time.

In Lubbock I was treated like a queen, as usual, and 4-week-old Kiah Trent was the icing on the cake. The whole family got together for two meals before I headed back to ABQ, again via Dallas. Upon arrival at Love Field, there came another request for volunteers, this time $100 to wait five minutes for the next flight. We barely had time to get the paperwork done before loading. This flight, after unloading a few passengers at the Sunport in ABQ, was headed for San Diego. I thought about just going on out to visit with Peggy's family and see if I could get any more good deals at the airport. But basketball practice was calling. It's good to be home.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Too Old to Learn New Tricks?

2007-05-20T01:01:00.000-07:00

Who would have believed how much fun old ladies can have playing basketball? The exercise is super, building stamina like a 17-year-old. Well, almost! There is much to learn, new challenges every practice session, and everyone is so helpful.

Playing only half court sounds easy, right? Wrong! Movement is constant, no rest for the weary. Everybody plays both offense and defense, which takes some getting used to. One of the different rules is that during a free throw, everyone but the shooter stands behind the free throw circle. After she shoots, she retrieves the ball and throws it to a team mate outside the circle, then playing resumes as usual.

There is a state tourney next weekend and nationals in November every two years, always held in a different city. Adventure awaits.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Old Age Adventure

2007-05-09T12:22:00.000-07:00

Ya know when you go back to visit the old home place and the house seems smaller than when you were a kid? Well, the opposite seems to be true with a basketball court. Last night I joined up with the Canyon Nets for practice, and found a 3-pointer is nigh impossible, a free throw iffy. The goal may even be higher. ;-) But the fun is the same as 53 years ago when I last played in a game. These ladies are a super group, spread the welcome mat wide for this stranger, so I felt right at home. Drills twice a week should have me back in shape in nothing flat. I'm even thinking about learning to throw a shot put, javelin and discus, something that was not offered to girls when I was in school. There seems to be no end to old age adventure.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Basketball--Then and Now

2007-05-08T02:41:00.000-07:00

When I first fell in love with basketball, girls were not allowed to dribble like the boys--only one bounce. Then it was extended to two, and eventually as many as necessary. We played on half the court, as it was supposed that girls didn't have the stamina for full court. No matter the distance of a shot, any field goal counted two points. How times have changed!

Mama would sometimes join us on our dirt court at home. Having graduated in 1916, her rules were much different. Her shots were pitched underhand, and when she got ready to pitch, her guard was required to stand back and give her free access to the goal. Their uniform consisted of long stockings, bloomers and middy blouses.

In the days before schools were classed by size, the Carey (Texas) Cardinals basketball team played against all sizes of schools and won the state championship. Scores then seldom hit the 20 mark. Carey had no football team, played basketball from fall until baseball season. To us, in the 40s and 50s, they were like professionals, the cream of the crop, and always won the Flomot tournament. Then the UIL restricted their extended season and spoiled the fun.

Tonight I'll be joining a group of senior women to play half-court basketball, picking up where I left off over 50 years ago. Be watching for me in the Senior Olympics!

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

God's Design

2007-05-02T03:54:00.000-07:00

The following article is taken from John Clayton’s Dandy Designs, a collection of articles from the bi-monthly bulletin, Does God Exist?, July, 1979. I think you will find it fascinating.

* * *

THE BIRD EGG
AN EXAMPLE OF GOD’S DESIGN

One of the evidences for the existence of God that we have repeatedly presented in this publication is the evidence from science that there is design in the creation. If one can prove there is design in the creation, one knows there has to be a Designer because design cannot occur in living or in non-living things by chance. We believe this Designer is God and that if an intelligent, thinking person will examine the evidence available, they will see it is impossible for these things to occur by any other process than God’s intelligence and direction. The Bible repeatedly makes reference to these things, telling us in Romans 1:19-23, for example, that we can know there is a God through the things He has made. We are all familiar with passages such as the one in Psalms which tell us the heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament showeth His handiwork. There are numerous claims throughout the Bible maintaining that God’s design is able to be seen in His creation.

One of the more beautiful examples of design in living things is in the structure of the bird egg. You may think in looking at an egg that it is really not that remarkable a structure, but repeated studies done by scientists in various areas and with various features of experimental design have shown that, in fact, the egg is a really incredible structure. Readers may wish to investigate Scientific American (February, 1979 or March, 1970) to see more material along this line. The article in Scientific American in March of 1970 on how an egg shell is made is particularly interesting.

The interesting thing about a bird egg is that it is a self-contained life support system. All the nutrients, minerals, energy sources, and water that will be needed by the embryo during its incubation are already present in a freshly laid egg. But there is one thing that the egg does not have and this is oxygen. Somehow, the egg has to be able to provide oxygen to the organism inside and yet get rid of the waste products that are involved. How do you do this through an apparently impenetrable egg shell? We have to realize that the eggs of birds and other organisms such as spiders and reptiles do not show any respiratory movements. There are no air currents within the egg, and there are no capillaries involved. Instead, the egg must breathe by a process chemically known as diffusion.

Diffusion is the process by which gases move from areas of high concentration to low concentration. In the area of an egg shell, diffusion is through thousands of microscopic pores in the shell of the egg. The lower concentrations of oxygen inside the egg allow oxygen to diffuse through the shell from outside. The high concentration of carbon dioxide inside the egg shell allows the gases to move out to spread into the atmosphere outside where the carbon dioxide is of a lower concentration. One has to realize there is virtually no carbon dioxide in our atmosphere, but about 21% oxygen. Apparently, God has not only designed the bird egg to be able to make these exchanges, but has designed the atmosphere with the capability of exchanging as well.

An interesting experiment which has been done along these lines is to attach an egg to a source of air and put it under water. By injecting pressurized air into the egg shell at the blunt end of a chicken egg, bubbles are seen to emerge from the entire surface of the shell. This experiment was first done by John Davy of Edinburg in 1863, but has been recently reproduced and circulated in numerous photographs by Dennis Atkinson of State University of New York at Buffalo. We have actually discovered that the chicken egg has about 10,000 microscopic pores distributed all over its surface which exchange the gases with its atmosphere.

It is also interesting to notice that the water content of the air within the egg is greater than the water content of the air outside the egg. This means that the pores not only allow oxygen to diffuse through the pores, but also allow water molecules to diffuse out. Bird eggs are designed to lose water at a controlled rate. Most of the energy needed for embryonic development is taken from the fat material stored inside the yolk. For every gram of fat burned, there is also equal mass of water generated. This means that the relative water content of the egg during incubation will decrease. If the relative water content at hatching were to be measured and compared to the water content when the egg was laid, it would be found that about 15% of the original mass of the egg was lost. Those who raise chickens are aware that the longer an egg sits, the more water loss there is. This is the amount of water loss that is essential for successful hatching, and scientists have even learned to determine whether an egg is progressing satisfactorily or not by whether or not it is losing the right amount of water.

During the 21 days that it takes a chicken egg to hatch, an egg which weighs about 60 grams will take up about 6 liters of oxygen, give off 4½ liters of carbon dioxide and 11 liters of water vapor.

The shell of a chicken egg is made of a material similar to limestone. The material is calcium carbonate which forms columnar calcite crystal. These crystals are imperfect, having a small amount of organic material within them. The imperfect packing of these crystals leaves spaces that allow the material to be transported through the egg. The permeability or conductance of the shell to gases is delicately controlled to meet the embryonic needs inside the egg. If gas is conducted too rapidly through the shell, the egg will dehydrate and if gas conductance is too low, the baby chick inside will suffocate.

A happy medium must be struck between the rates at which the gases are conducted through the shell. The way this is done is that as metabolism takes place and gas enters the shell to replace the lost water, an air cell is formed at the blunt end of the egg. The air cell grows until it occupies about 15% of the internal volume of the egg. This occurs at the end of the incubation period. The oxygen consumption of the embryo increases slowly during the first week and a half of life; between 10-14 days it reaches a plateau which it maintains up until hatching. This plateau of 6 milliliters of oxygen per day is the volume that the pores of the cell are able to pass by diffusion. This means that the rate of oxygen movement is exactly equal to what the shell is able to diffuse. In different terms, what this means is that every second about 20 trillion oxygen atoms flow into the egg through each cell and 14 trillion molecules of carbon dioxide and 12 trillion molecules of water vapor flow out.

All of this intricately designed system provides for the chick up until about the 19th day. On or about the 19th day, the chick penetrates the air cell at the blunt end of the egg with its beak. This process is called “internal pipping.” The chick then begins to breathe from this air cell ventilating its previously unused lungs. During this period, oxygen is provided by both diffusion and convection. About six hours after the chick has penetrated the air cell in the eggs, it pokes a hole in the shell. This small hole produced by the egg tooth on the upper beak of the chick provides atmospheric oxygen for the first time. By this time the lung function is well enough established to allow increased oxygen consumption which is required during the final effort of hatching.

The engineering principles involved in this process are even more remarkable when one considers different kinds of eggs. Not all eggs have the same size pores, but all eggs end up producing the same final concentrations of oxygen and carbon dioxide within the egg. It is rather remarkable when one considers that the incubation of bird eggs ranges all the way from 11 days in some small birds to 70 days for large birds such as the Wandering Albatross. The chemistry involved in a system such as this of moving gases and providing for the embryo inside the egg seems virtually impossible to explain in terms of any kind of evolutionary process. It is another example of God’s wisdom and design in the creation–a design that demands a Designer.

Does God Exist?
718 E. Donmeyer Ave.
South Bend IN 46614-1999

E-mail: jncdge@aol.com
Home page: http://www.doesgodexist.org

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Religion vs Science?

2007-04-22T14:22:00.000-07:00

John N. Clayton grew up in an atheistic home and spent his youth working to disprove the existence of God. Now he is a dedicated Christian, traveling the world disproving myths and challenging people to “Think! Think!”, offering incontrovertible evidence through science and nature to prove that God exists and that the Bible is his word.

In a bi-monthly non-profit magazine called “Does God Exist?”, Clayton shares his biblical and scientific knowledge to show how the two are in total agreement, despite what so many people teach to the contrary. Many books, pamphlets, tapes, CDs, DVDs on this subject and others are available on loan or can be bought at cost. With a wonderful knowledge of physics, astronomy, geology and other areas of science and common sense, Clayton was a high school teacher for 41 years, often refuting many theories presented in text books.

For more information go to http://www.doesgodexist.org or e-mail: jncdge@aol.com .

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Love Letter

2007-04-17T00:41:00.000-07:00

After a lifetime of farming, plus occasional jobs such as heavy equipment operator, construction in a mobile home factory, and remodeling houses, I eventually decided to take a computer course for easier work in later life. I snagged a secretarial position with the local highway patrol and thought I was fixed for the duration. Then hubby Harry's health began to deteriorate, and it finally dawned on me that if he was forced to retire, I needed to be at home with him. As soon as I mentioned this possibility to him, he said, "Ok, lets move to the mountains."

No telling how long this sweet guy had been dreaming of the change, but didn't want to force me away from a job I loved. He was able to enjoy over two years here in Sandia paradise before moving on to better things. Then I wrote him the following letter:

Dearest Harry,

Every morn as I slowly awaken, Are you here? is the first thing I think, or out on the porch drinking coffee, and watching the mountain turn pink?

Remember I told you a long time ago, when speaking of death and the one left below, that one of the hard things with which to contend would be loss of a confidant, listener, friend. Just after the service, the first thought I had was that Mike's eulogy would make your heart glad when I got home to tell you of all he had said, that your message of hope could somehow be spread.

I wanted to share all the sights and the fun of the tour of old England with the other four Gunns, and the dozens of cousins I've met here and there, and the Edsel I passed on the main thoroughfare.

I'm wearing your shirts, so comfy and long, still pound out and sing your favorite songs, try to keep up the Blazer the way you would do, and turn on your "toe lights" when each day is through.

I know you'll be happy for this glad event: your whole big retirement is now being sent to my bank account, just as you would want. You can rest assured I'm not starving and gaunt.

We now have a traffic light at the freeway where we pass underneath going toward Santa Fe. The Bagel House closed, and the auto parts store, so there's no place to rent a U-Haul anymore.

Just over the hill from our own paradise live David and Coleen, new neighbors so nice, in a house with two decks and a marvelous view, thanks to Tony and Molly, who make dreams come true.

Kooky Red and her roommate today are engaged in building a living room iguana cage for the fast-growing lizards called Mya and Blue, so that Dianne can soon have her own bedroom, too.

With pictures and poems, I made you a book named just "Old Weird Harold", which I undertook when those two sweet grandsons, Joel and Jake, petitioned me for a special keepsake. In it they will find some things that you wrote, of selling the farm and life's anecdotes. Your writing is published now, better than Poe, with more wit and humor and useful info.

I've started to cover the dining room wall with things from the farm so we can recall the good things that happened in those happy years before we retired and became mountaineers.

That squirrel is back, digging under the house; I guess he may think that since I've no spouse to deal with his sneaky but cute rodent ways, he'll now have free reign for the rest of his days. I'm using big rocks to perhaps slow him down, and it that doesn't work, there's concrete around to cover the holes like you did at first, and squirrel stew, maybe, if worse comes to worst.

It's not as much fun watching "Whose Line?" without you to share in the glee. House cleaning now takes a bit longer, but I'm so glad your soul is set free. I need you so often when problems arise, but I try my best to look through your eyes to see a solution just as you would do, and-- often as not-- use your Krazy Glue. It fixed up the sprayer hose yesterday eve, and I'm slaying weeds like you wouldn't believe.

I've done lots of trimming on several trees, declared holy war on the noxious bindweeds, transplanted more cactus, am rocking the lope, and pamper the grass with water and hope. Those scrub oaks have roots much like the mesquite, so many new sprouts, I can haardly compete. So with a small brush and the Roundup I love, I swabbed every leaf, wearing surgical gloves, and with much trepidation I'm waiting to see if it kills just the bushes and not the pine tree. Two sunflower plants, as tall as the eaves, make a natural screen so that no neighbor sees your spot on the porch with that marvelous view, the mountains that always remind me of you.

Love forevermore,
Gail

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Charlie Shimek

2007-03-26T13:32:00.000-07:00

When Charlie was diagnosed with colon cancer, plus metastasis to the liver, I wrote a poem about him.

“What is this,” he exploded, “my obit? I’m not dying!”

And indeed he wasn’t. After surgery and several rounds of chemo, the inoperable tumor on his liver began to disappear. His appetite returned; he began to gain back the weight he had lost; his yodel is improving. Now he is back to his old chipper self, taking his various wares to flea markets where he not only entertains folks but witnesses to his miraculous recovery. Soon he will be flying to Minnesota for a visit with relatives and friends.

Because of his Czech heritage, Charlie calls himself a “cancelled Czech”. Not yet, Charlie, not yet!

Charlie Shimek

A lover of life is this wild mountain man,
distributing blessings wherever he can.
Proud Czech heritage shines bright in his eyes
that rival the blue in these desert skies.
From cold Minnesota he has traveled the globe,
the customs and language of natives to probe,
never meeting a stranger, as love he outpours
from a heart that's as big as all the outdoors.
For eleven years he sailed the seas
in US Navy dungarees,
and a patriot he'll always be
to keep this country proud and free.
He entertains all sorts of folks
with yodeling or corny jokes,
or whistles like a bird in song
to charm and captivate the throng.
In movies he lights up the screen,
a presence like you've never seen.
He's tough, yet gentle, kind and sweet.
In friendship he just can't be beat.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Home is Where the Heart Is

2007-03-11T15:03:00.000-07:00

The drive from Edgewood, New Mexico to Childress, Texas takes five and one-half hours. Eleven minutes of that time is in Amarillo between Westgate Mall and the Highway 287 exit off I-40, info that is bound to come in handy to somebody someday. If you haven’t been down that road in the last few years, you may not know that big impressive rest stops have changed the landscape just before it drops off at the Caprock. There on the Cedar Hills ranch, trees grow so thick that I wonder how cows could navigate such a pasture. But no matter how long the drive or how many changes, the area still feels like home.

Arriving just in time for Sunday night worship, followed by a Valentine party for us seniors, I enjoy visiting with old friends and acquaintances. A funeral and more visiting on Monday, then off toward Pecos for one night with sister Peg, who introduces me to the neat card game of Quiddler.

A bit northeast of Pecos is the little oil town of Kermit where friend Sylvia is adjusting to widowhood after 74 years of marriage. A cracked vertebrae complicates the problems of this tough time, and I marvel at her tenacity. For two weeks we compare notes, make short trips downtown on business, spoil the cute little white poodle named Julip, and enjoy the warm February weather.

Heading back into New Mexico, high winds that include sand and tumbleweeds make driving a struggle. As usual, I find myself heading west instead of north, as the map in my head is turned around again. Thank God and Chevrolet for the compass that helps me back to I-40 where the trucks are thick as lumps in my gravy. Trying not to be blown beneath them is enough stress to keep me awake until I reach the Edgewood exit and the 15 miles to home.

Even with piles of snow and 45 degree weather contrasting with Kermit’s warm climate, there is still no place like home.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

School Memories

2007-01-23T08:38:00.000-08:00

One of the most memorable incidents of my first year in school was watching the teacher pull Rex out of his seat by a handful of red hair, a picture of frustration. For several years he seemed uncooperative in learning, until finally someone discovered that he was nearly blind. Thick glasses helped him see so much of the world he had been missing, but catching up on those exasperating years of reading and soaking up knowledge was hard. He even wore the glasses on the football field, and was a good athlete. He loved making music, breaking horses, and being a friend.

In an earlier piece I mentioned meeting Rex again at the Turkey Jamboree, and was happy to learn he has had a very successful life both personally and professionally. I gave him some of my books, with hopes of seeing him at the next Flomot homecoming. Then just before Christmas a package with the address of his cotton gin arrived in the mail, a cloth calendar with a bale of cotton pictured at the top, a memory of “olden days.” This is definitely a keeper!

My memories of Flomot are one of my most precious possessions. Imagine how empty life would be for someone with amnesia. I am so richly blessed.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

The Blessings of the Road

2007-01-07T14:41:00.000-08:00

Have you ever ridden in the cab of a big truck? It’s quite an eye-opening experience. I think it would be a good idea for everyone to try it before they can get a license to drive a car. From such a lofty perch, cars look very small and vulnerable. Learning first-hand how long it takes for a truck to stop, and how much space it takes to turn a corner might someday save your life.

Instead of cussing the hard working truckers, thing about how complicated our lives would be without them. The recent snow storm we had, preventing trucks from getting to stores to make deliveries for a couple of days, was a good reminder of how much our survival depends on their daily travels.

And how often do you think of appreciating the engineers and others who design and keep our roads in shape? Imagine the problems they encounter with keeping traffic moving while doing necessary repairs. One recent renovation project in our area was aimed at building tunnels beneath the freeway in order to keep wild animals–especially deer and bears–from wandering out into traffic. Contending with the problems of a construction zone is pretty minor compared to crashing into a black bear.

The evolution of highway signs and markings has taken a lot of imagination. Did you know that the paint used for striping contains ground-up glass so that it can be seen easier under headlights at night? How important those stripes are becomes quite evident when they are covered with snow.

With most freeway ramps located on the right, how do you know when the one coming up might turn to the left? Watch the large road signs for the exit number at the top. If it is on the right corner of the sign, it will turn right. If on the left corner, the exit ramp will be on the left.

In some states, the numbers of the exit ramps coincide with the mile markers, so that when traveling west in New Mexico, you see mile marker 176, you know to be ready to turn off at exit 175 for Tijeras or Sandia Crest, 175 miles from the Arizona border.

Mile markers are generally easy to see on interstates, but not on lesser roads. In Texas you may have to look closely beneath the US 287 sign to find the number on the post. Knowing the milepost can be important when reporting a wreck or other problems to authorities.

The next time you’re driving, pay attention to all the blessings of our highway system, and pass your thankfulness on to the other drivers you encounter.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

A New Kind of Adventure

2007-01-05T19:02:00.000-08:00

When I bought the battery powered sweeper, it had never occurred to me that one-handed operation was among its many benefits. Today sweeping the floor was a breeze, although my right hand is sore, swollen and useless. The Swiffer mop was equally easy to use as I explored the new challenge of being temporarily left handed.

What a small inconvenience a painful hand is, compared to the things my friend with ALS has been through, or the one who was paralyzed by a stroke, or the kid with a broken neck, now a quadriplegic. What a good reminder to count my multitude of blessings!

With one hand, I can easily fill the dishwasher, carry snacks to eat in front of the TV, read a book, accompany my singing with chords on the electronic keyboard, and even use the computer, albeit somewhat slowly. And when I tire of adventure, I sit quietly and watch the peaceful falling of snow.

Thinking of being left-handed, I remember writing a theme for a friend in high school. To disguise my penmanship, I wrote with my left hand. When the teacher saw it, she called him to her desk, and I thought the jig was up. Instead, she said, “Now, if you just took the time, your writing could always be this good.” Whew! My writing was a mess, but his was pitiful.

Besides this way of fighting boredom, I also practiced writing backward. How would such a crazy pastime ever be useful? Well, it was. When I started doing painting on glass many years later, everything was backward, so that when the glass was framed, my backward signature was readable. Who knows where your unusual talent may be needed? Practice, practice, practice . . . .

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Raising Children

2007-01-02T07:59:00.000-08:00

Raising Children

If you want to raise a monster, here's what you need to do:

Give him everything he asks for, and maybe extras, too.

Laugh at the dirty words he says, don't teach him right from wrong,

no training in the spiritual vein, no hymn or Godly song.

Teach no responsibility, self-discipline or work.

Ignore your job as leader, the role of parent shirk.

Let him read or watch anything he wants, and fill his mind with smut.

If you mention God or morals, he may think you're a nut.

Have quarrels in his presence, using language of the street.

Let him see your lack of self-respect, show him how to cheat.

Provoke him oft to anger, take his side in any trouble,

so that when he meets reality, adversities will double.

He will spend a lifetime catching up, nor earn the feel of pride

that comes with honest labor, respect from deep inside.

Then prepare yourself for a life of grief, for it will surely come,

and you can sit and wonder why your child became a bum.

(From a sermon by Roger Holm)

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Meeting Jesus Face to Face

2006-12-12T08:17:00.000-08:00

Meeting Jesus Face to Face

Vulnerable moments of our lives may be so full of grace
that we're changed for all eternity, meeting Jesus face-to-face.
Jacob wanted to be blessed by God, and lied to get his way.
He was on the run from Esau on that fateful day
when he wrestled with the angel. A new attitude was born,
the thought of serving others while dealing with his thorn.
Jonah was trying to hide from God when swallowed by the fish.
Preaching to save the heathens was not his fondest wish.
Paul was on his way to kill Christians when he met Jesus on the road.
His life completely turned around after this episode.
Job lost everything earthly, yet his faith was strengthened in sorrow.
Hagar, cast out by Sarah, met an angel on the morrow.
Joseph's brothers treated him badly, his talents misunderstood,
but God, with his infinite wisdom, used his sufferings for their good.
Moses, running for his life, discovered the burning bush,
a meeting with God that turned him around with a decided swoosh.
Samson lost his freedom, strength and sight when falling to temptation,
but found God's grace sufficient to bring down an unholy nation.
Elijah, fleeing from Jezebel, was discouraged and wished to die,
but was gently touched by an angel, sent from the Lord on high.
God's voice speaks in the gentle breeze, "I want you just as you are."
His powerful providence fills all need, serves as our great lodestar.
Alone and frightened and hopeless? This is the perfect time
to experience the love of God and his wondrous grace sublime.

(From a sermon by Roger Holm)

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Ramblin'

2006-11-25T18:23:00.000-08:00

Ramblin'

Down at the end of Derek Road is a wilderness replete
with cactus, rocks and walking trails to challenge aging feet.
Exploring the unlikely site of an abandoned turquoise mine
without my handy walking stick could be a treacherous climb.
A forest of pinon and cedar, stands of hardy scrub oak and more
surround a sea of desert plants that cover the valley floor.
Off to the left of the well-worn trail I follow some horses' tracks
that lead to a Shell oil pipeline and a road that takes me back
to a fence and "private property" sign, a community with a gate
to keep unwanted guests away from that secluded estate.
Climbing up and down the rough terrain where few, perhaps, have trod,
I feel content and richly blessed, attuned to creator God.
Then signs of civilization appear, some plastic and broken glass,
beer cans and even a weathered shoe. I'm not alone, alas!
Maneuvering a rocky slope with my polished stick of wood,
what if I fall and break a leg? - a chance well understood.
Perhaps I would make a tasty meal (I wouldn't mind, I swear!)
for the neighborhood mountain lion or a hungry roving bear.
That seems more sensible to me than dying slow with cancer
or suffering Alzheimer's curse. There is no easy answer.
Thank God for a healthy body that for two pleasant hours can walk,
a mind that can still imagine, a voice that can sing and talk.
To use it all for his glory, to help other people in pain
is the whole of my ambition, contentment forever to gain.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

A Living, Breathing Sermon

2006-11-21T06:00:00.000-08:00

A Living, Breathing Sermon
(Harold Trent)

Most of what I have learned about being a Christian
was taught by a man of few words.
His quiet example was oft awe-inspiring;
his angry voice seldom was heard.
He had prayed long and often since he was a teen
that a cure for his ills would be found,
the manic/depression that then had no name,
no potion to turn it around.
This “thorn in the flesh” helped to temper his soul
and keep him so humble and meek
that he hated to argue, would not fight at all,
a peaceable answer would seek.
Instead of a miracle cure for his pain,
God granted him wisdom so rare
that he saw things more deeply, saw things he could change,
and had enough courage to dare.
He broke that long steel chain of silence,
hung stained linen out in the sun,
and with the right people at all the right times,
God helped him the gauntlet to run.
His tired, tortured soul has now been released
to God’s eternal rest,
but his message is being repeated
and printed at his request,
to share his tough experience,
tell brothers there is hope.
New medicines now offer
a simple way to cope.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Another Adventure

2006-11-14T02:24:00.000-08:00

Bad knees can be a blessing. Because of them, I enter the senior center through the back door where there is a ramp instead of stairs. Writing class is down the hall and around the corner. In the first room on the left, I noticed a group of folks playing country music, and one day I came early to listen. What started out as a class for guitarists had turned into a regular jam session with a variety of instruments, but no piano. Aha!

This week I went shopping for a cheap electronic keyboard with a volume control so that it won’t drown out the other instruments, and suddenly I’m back to “making music,” playing and singing the old songs of my youth. Since the schedule allows me to attend writing class afterward, I’m killing two birds with one stone, one trip into town from the East Mountains.

Can life get any better than this? Dink, bring your harmonica. We’ll be in tune this time!

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Passover

2006-11-13T08:24:00.000-08:00

Passover

The Passover lamb was symbolic of Christ, the Lamb of God.
Each lamb was spotless, perfect - as prescribed.
The blood on the doorposts kept the angel of death from taking those inside,
and in Israel's camp that night, nobody died.
Their enemies were marked for destruction, the oldest family members.
Much pitiful mourning and wailing was heard that night.
The Passover supper was instituted, a memorial of redemption
every year at the time of Israel's freedom flight.
For a week their bread was made without yeast, signifying the working of sin
that can leaven the lump of dough and bring disaster.
Not every person is virtuous within the congregation
and can cause some of the flock to stray from the Master.
After bondage in Egypt for four hundred years, Israel was led by God
out into pastures green to start anew.
Like them, we Christians are transformed into a worthy people,
a metamorphosis, a switcheroo.
Ahead of Pharaoh's soldiers, facing a raging sea,
between a hard place and a rock the Jews were stuck.
The only place to look was up, up to the God of heaven.
They needed more than just a spot of luck.
They were crying out in fear, but God said "Stop your whining!
Go forward. I am with you all the way."
The water of the Red Sea turned out to be salvation,
just as water saves obedient souls today.
Baptism is our circumcision, signifying death
of our old attitudes and shameful sin,
a burial and resurrection to a righteous life
where loving sacrifice and peace begin.
Jews had to re-learn freedom, like a bird whose flight is gained
by slow degrees until its wings are strong.
God's word within our hearts helps us daily grow and change
in the image of the One who did no wrong.
Like the early church, we gather each Sunday to commune
with one another in the blood of Christ,
a time of great thanksgiving for all that he has done,
giving us his best, the perfect sacrifice.
And because he gave his best, he expects the same of us,
a dedicated life of serving others.
Real happiness is ours only if we share its blessings,
giving freely of ourselves to help our brothers.

(From a sermon by Roger Holm)

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Accidental Blessings

2006-10-31T10:16:00.000-08:00

Funny how one thing leads to another. For years, the kids had sent all kinds of Peanuts cards to their Charlie Brown dad, and after our retirement move, I decided to display them on the wall of our bedroom. While hunting through my large collection of memorabilia, I found a card we had received from one of the double-cousins after Mama’s death. It had the addresses of her siblings, and I decided to try contacting them, in case any were still living.

Uncle Dave was Daddy’s oldest brother, Aunt Katy Mama’s oldest sister. Since Mama and Daddy were the youngest in their large families and didn’t marry until in their thirties, most of our first cousins were old enough to have kids our age. Dave and Kate’s family lived at Howe, Texas, near Sherman, too far for regular visits from the Panhandle, so we hardly knew them.

Soon after my search began, a letter came from Cousin Harley saying his mother and one of her sisters were in a nursing home together, the only siblings still living. Through him, I contacted his sister, Olene, and cousin Ellen. Before long, other cousins got my e-mail address and asked for our family history for their genealogy, invited me to a family reunion, and things have been buzzing ever since.

Thank you, thank you, Charlie Brown!

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Momentous Birthday

2006-10-12T17:20:00.000-07:00

My upcoming 70th birthday reminded me today of the only birthday party I remember having. My friend Raye Nell and I were both born on Aunt Neva Graves’ 48th birthday. She was Daddy’s sister, only five years older than he, but was a big influence in his life, the only mother he ever knew, because their mother died when he was two years old. She was present at my birth, and heated rocks to warm my basket/bed after I was scratched up by forceps the doctor used during delivery. One of her granddaughters was my age, and we spent lots of time at her house through the years. She filled in the empty space in my life that normally would have been occupied by grandparents.

Aunt Neva lived in Flomot, across the road from Raye Nell, for whom she also served as a grandmother. For our 17th birthday, and Aunt Neva’s 65th, we decided to throw ourselves a party. Aunt Neva volunteered to bring the cake, which is the only thing I remember about the event.

When we tried to cut it, the knife would only penetrate the fluffy white coconut icing, and we soon discovered that the “cake” was a tin can! What 17-year-old would expect an old lady of 65 to have such a wonderful sense of humor? Talk about a momentous occasion!

Thanks, Aunt Neva, for all the wonderful memories.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com
cgtrent@att.net

Curiosity

2006-10-05T16:07:00.000-07:00

They say “Curiosity killed the cat.” Reckon that rule applies to crazy old grandmothers, too?

When I left the house after lunch, carrying my handy walking stick and a pint of water, there was absolutely nothing on the schedule about a 10-mile trek. The plan was to go to the end of Derek Road, skirt the locked gate and cross a pasture that is now lush with grass, cactus and other wild plants. A circuitous route to the new road on the next hill was my way of mapping out a back-door escape route in case our one exit should some day be cut off by a forest fire.
I thought the very steep road to the south would lead to the new and growing Richland Hills Estates on the other side, with a fancy entry from Frost Road. But before reaching the top, I discovered a sign that said “Private Property” and another even more disturbing: “Beware of Dog.”

Not really needing a third dog bite, I retraced my steps back to a Y in the road and headed west. After finally topping another hill, I met an incoming car. The lady driver stopped, rolled down the window and inquired nicely about my intrusion into her private domain. Not far behind her was a locked gate. Oops!

The gate had no fence, just a few boulders preventing entry of vehicles, no problem to squeeze through. Figuring I had reached a point of no return, and still curious about where this road might lead, onward toward adventure I plodded.

As the road leveled out a bit, houses were closer together, and the barking dogs were well secured behind fences. I did eventually end up at Frost Road, a couple of miles west of the Richland Hills area. Another mile to the Sandia Knolls entry. Maybe I’ll stop at the corner house where Stephen has a fix-it shop, sit awhile, visit the bathroom.

The fancy neighborhood sign has a pile of lichen-covered rocks just the right height for resting a bit, and soon I’m on my way homeward, the last three miles, mostly uphill. This should be the right time of day for some of my friendly neighbors to be returning home. Maybe I’ll catch a ride. Yeah, right!

Meeting oncoming traffic, I’m reminded of one of my pet peeves, people who walk on this narrow pavement, heads down, paying no attention to the cars they meet. I suppose their purpose in walking is to improve their health, and here they are risking life and limb to the chance that every driver is in tip-top form. Wake up, folks! The reason for walking facing traffic is so that you can get off the road when you see a car coming!

Derek Road, one more mile to go. I’ve done a good job conserving my water; now the bottle is empty. Up the last steep hill, I hear a vehicle approaching, and step into the ditch just in time to avoid a water truck that is spraying the road for the new paving project. Welcome to the neighborhood, you guys. No more driving over washboards!

These 70-year-old hips must not be as worn out as I thought. I’m so thankful I don’t have to celebrate my upcoming birthday in a rocking chair. This is the best age yet!

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com

From Old Habits to Good News

2006-09-28T20:14:00.000-07:00

Old habits are hard to break. My left foot still itched to hit the dimmer switch on the floorboard this morning as I met a car in the pre-dawn drive to town. I remembered the first night I drove Daddy’s little Datsun, and almost stomped a hole in the floor trying to dim the lights, to no avail. What old fogey would think to look for such a control on the signal light lever? And what kid would believe where it used to be?

The first car I drove was a ‘28 model Buick convertible. It not only had a foot-feed (accelerator for you young-uns), but a short lever in the middle of the steering wheel for speed control by hand. I don’t remember if it ever had a starter, as we usually turned the motor over with a crank, or gave it a little push. When the brakes wore out, we just geared it down or dragged our collective feet. It may have been the strangest convertible yet, as Daddy soon converted it into a pickup, which I have written about before.

This morning’s drive into Albuquerque ended up in Taos, a quiet artsy town where we strolled the streets along the square and had a delicious lunch at Michael’s. Some of the mountain peaks glowed with new-fallen snow, and colors of gold, orange and red among the varied shades of green were a delightful change of scenery. Driving along the rushing Rio Grande made us wish for a raft, and perhaps stronger bodies from bygone days.

The only memorabilia from the day’s outing is a bag of delicious apples from an orchard in the most enchanting location, a secluded valley beneath towering cliffs of sandstone. Idyllic, serene.
Stopping at the mailbox on the way home, I received a letter announcing the upcoming project of paving our gravel road, the perfect end of a perfect day.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com

Gypsy Blood?

2006-09-10T21:14:00.000-07:00

“Oh, bury me not on the lone prairie...” ran through my head upon seeing the cement block tombstone of a lady’s pet cat today. The scene was acres of grass dotted with cactus and sagebrush in open range land, backed by several mountain ranges. The 40-acre plot we had come to see included a nice mobile home with two decks, a well/storage building and camper trailer, well off the beaten track. Spacious. Quiet. Tranquil. Dream like.

Memories of other mobile homes came to mind. When I was about two years old, our family of seven lived in a tiny trailer house north of the little Spring Grove school near Gainesville, Texas.
At perhaps age 14, neighbor Nova and I slept in one a bit larger in the yard of their farm home, dreaming magnificent dreams.

As newlyweds, Harry and I bought the cutest one-bedroom red-and-white doll house I had ever seen, with just enough space on the hall dressing table for a baby’s bassinet when Joe was born.

While our aerial spraying business was floundering, our family of six lived in a two-bedroom trailer in Spur, Texas. What an exciting year that turned out to be!

After buying the Trent family farm, we added to the small house by parking a two-bedroom trailer near the back door. It housed our three girls awhile, then Joe and Rhonda, Mama and Daddy, and eventually Tom and Peggy when they pulled it to Odessa during oil boom days.

Retired from farming after the kids were grown and gone, we moved to a three-bedroom mobile home in Childress, a very comfortable abode for 11 years. We expected to buy a small piece of land in the foothills of the Sandia Mountains of New Mexico, and park a mobile home on it to live out the rest of our days, but Molly insisted on buying the lovely house that has now been home for almost seven years.

Will we begin another adventure on the 40 acres and start planning their retirement home, or keep looking for the perfect spot? I’m glad the decision is theirs–not mine.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com

Travels

2006-09-06T20:43:00.000-07:00

Travels

On a six-hour trip back to Texas, I visit many spots
in order to make my time worthwhile, and I've hit many jackpots:
A book signing in Amarillo, two nights there with Floye and Guss,
church service at Flomot on Sunday where they lovingly welcomed us,
great food at Quitaque's Sportsman Café, then a big anniversary bash
for Ben and Myra's fiftieth, old memories to rehash.
A week in Lubbock with Rhonda and Joe, their kids and granddog Humbug,
two days with Ronald and Waydie in their beautiful home so snug,
where we cowboy'd a bit in early morn and hauled calves to the sale,
returning in time for the Do Gooders' meet, to stitch on a quilt, swapping tales.
'Twas mentioned that our morning's work amongst the herd of cattle
could not compare to the b.s. served with the quilters' prattle.
To the Rhodes B&B at Carey and the renovated old school
where Harry attended in bygone days in misery, as a rule.
Two nights with Peggy Stewart and visits with other friends,
then back to Turkey for the Jamboree where music never ends.
In the beautiful Gem Theater, Waydie and I once again
joined our voices in gospel harmony, fifty years of silence to span.
Marie, my usual hostess for sweet rest through the night,
is always so gracious and helpful, her home a welcome sight.
One more anniversary party for Weldon and Helen Hayes,
then westward toward the setting sun after seventeen glorious days.
Two inches of rain in the gauge was icing on the cake
when I arrived home safe and sound, a long, long rest to take.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com

End of Day

2006-09-04T08:39:00.000-07:00

End of Day
1951

Toward evening, nearly milking time, at pinking of the sky,
we wander through the pasture -- my buddy, Dink, and I.
Around the bend, down to the pond, the worn trail leads us on
to where the cows and Sugar graze, and sure enough, they’re gone.
Off in the farthest corner we find them swatting flies,
their tails almost in rhythm, recognition in their eyes.
We have no rope or bridle, just jump on Sugar’s back.
She knows we’re only going home if she isn’t wearing tack.
She turns the cows and starts them up the trail in single file.
This is important business; she’s boss now for awhile.
She kicks up her heels, just teasing, to see what we will do.
A handful of mane and strong muscled legs have once more seen us through.
The whole procession enters the waiting open gate,
and we alight with sweaty pants as milking chores await.

Cora Gail Trent
www.cgtrent.com