Please contact me in the future by smoke signals.

 

I am not easily annoyed.

Anyone who thinks I am can "sit on it". It really frosts my cookie when someone thinks I'm easily annoyed when that just isn't so.

But yesterday was too much. Beyond the pale. Over the top. Going too far.

I spent two hours running around for no reason. None. Zip. Nada. Zero. No reason.

The court sent me a letter saying I needed to see the clerk for a document. They would have emailed it to me but they said they don't have my email.

I went to the courthouse. As I stood there looking at the fence around this perfectly good, but apparently condemned, building I remembered that they had built a new "Taj Mahal" for the judicial of our county between two of our big cities. Twenty minutes away from where I was standing.

So I drove there. 

Now we are over an hour into the day, and I've accomplished nothing.

As I entered the building I saw the metal detector and deputies, so I started toward them. Nope. They cut me off at the pass. They redirected me further into the building to another line. The original line I was headed for was for our betters. The upper crust for whom the building was created. 

Normal taxpayers had a different line. The only egalitarian thing about this was that the two lines looked about the same.

And if you paid attention when you drive in we taxpayers had a normal parking lot while our betters parked in fenced lots. They need to keep the "riff raft" out.

I then followed the directions kind people gave me to navigate inside the building to get to the court. I roamed the large hallways of this big building looking for the clerk. Part of the problem was my own, I said the name of the court, but didn't say "clerk". I thought they would be in the proximity of one to the other. They are not. Courtrooms are on one floor and the clerk is on another.

Finally I found the clerk. She printed the document for me. 

She told me to add my email to my record I had to go to the computer lab. In the early 1980's was the last time I went to a "computer lab". Back then it was to "get onto one of the main frames", because some of the models they had us running in graduate school would not compute on lesser machines.

But I digress.

At the computer lab there was a nice young lady who spent some time finding me in the computer and then she said, "So you want to change your email?"

Change? Not add?

They had my old email which is forwarded to my new email. But since I didn't get anything from them I had the nice lady change my email to my new email address. Maybe that will help. I hoped so.

Today I had sent to my new email address an email from the court that had the document attached. (Turned out to be the same document that was printed for me.)

To see the document I had to enter my email address. So I entered the email address I'd just given them. That didn't work. But my old email did work.

So there you go...

I have no idea what they will do if they need to send me more information. 

The thing that will be different next time is I will remember where the court house now is.

Proverbs 4:18

 

Psalm 37:7

 

1 John 4:7

 1 John 4:7

Love comes from God.

Pam the Turtle Lady

 

It is hard to say “no” to Pam. The main reason for this is because she is so nice. The other reason for this is that she knows the main thing that you (you meaning me) will be doing today is looking at YouTube videos of a cat playing the piano.

Recently she asked me to clean out a ditch.

Hurray! Ditch cleaning.

The other thing about Pam and why it is hard to say “no” is because she will be doing whateveritis that she is asking you to do.

So as I was recently cleaning the ditch… she was to. But she was going much slower. That is okay because she has a bad back. Come to find out… she was also looking for turtles and that slows down ditch cleaning considerably.

From the time I met Pam she has had turtles. She finds these tiny turtles and puts them in a aquarium and “takes care of them” for a few weeks before she returns them to the wild.

She is the turtle lady of Shipshewana. Even now although we don’t live there. The ditch we were cleaning out was in Shipshewana, meaning the turtle we found was in Shipshewana.

When we lived in that neighborhood there were little girls who were enamored with Pam and her turtles. They would “foster care” for Pam’s turtles. This means they would take an aquarium from Pam home and feed the turtles and look at them, etc.

I think the most turtles Pam and the girls have had is four or five at a given time.

As we cleaned out the ditch the other day Pam found a turtle. And per usual it went into the aquarium with some lettuce and some rocks. Plus the special water used just for turtles. 

Pam told one of the little girls about this new found turtle and she kept it for a couple of days. It was returned and is upstairs now. It watched “Fox News” tonight with me for a while. 

Pam told the little girl where she found the turtle and the little girl and her mom went there and found a turtle of their own. I don’t know if there turtle gets to watch “Fox News” or not.

All the neighbors in that neighborhood now are looking for mother turtles who come up out of the lake to lay their eggs. Pam trained them to watch where they dig their nest and lay their eggs. Mother turtles can cover their nest up so well that it is very hard to tell that anything happened. Pam and the neighbors mark the spot and then they mark the calendar for the theoretical time that the eggs are to hatch.

Sometimes it is cooler or warmer so you can’t always go by the “normal” time it takes for them to hatch. And sometimes they “over winter”. 

After they are hatched they have what Pam calls (and I’m sure others call it also) a yoke sack. This allows them to not have to eat for a few days. It is stored up energy. 

If you are a regular reader you know that Pam buys worms and raises them for “castings”. So the poor worms get fed to the turtles.

When Pam releases the turtles it is usually into Shipshewana Lake. She says they go out a little distance and stop. They turn around and look at her as if to say “goodbye”. She expects me to believe that.

So if Pam asks you to go clean out a ditch you need to know it is a ruse to look for turtle.

And that is okay.

Psalm 18:2

 

free and helpful marriage advice

 

Before we begin our story, a word on why it is important. If you are not married you can learn from the experiences of someone who is and then try to learn from their mistakes so that you don't "follow in their footsteps". If you are married you can read this and then understand that there are other men out there that make mistakes just like you do and you can empathize with the author.

Fear not...

 Isaiah 43:1

Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
    I have called you by name, you are mine

I went to the shoot at the wrong concert...

 

Here is the link to see the photos from the Rhett Walker concert.

https://www.davidarment.photos/Concert-Images-Folder/Rhett-Walker

I was obviously supposed to "shoot" this concert. And I - obviously - knew as much. However I went to the wrong venue. We have two in town (both have "Blue Gate" in their names) and I went to the wrong one. I went to the one that I normally work at and it was the wrong one. There was a sign on the door which said in a very nice way, "If you are here to see Rhett Walker, your'e in the wrong place".

So I went very quickly to the correct concert venue. I was in the big truck which sometimes isn't easy to park so I parked it in the first space that it would fit that was close to the "Music Hall". I walked up the stairs and the house manager apparently remembered me and motioned me to go through a particular door, which I did as quickly as I could.

I was just getting there as Olivia Lane, the first performer of the evening, was being introduced by Bill Brooks. (Bill Brooks is famous.) I had to hurry and get my equipment in order. And I said "hi" to Scott who was running sound.

I have come to enjoy taking concert pictures. At first it was nerve wracking. All new things that I do tend to be that way. I'm afraid to "screw up" and disappoint. If you notice most of the pictures I take are very low stress. Cows, horses, cacti, waterfalls, tree, sunsets... none of them care. None of them rush. If you get it wrong, there is always another time to get it right.

Now I can sorta, kinda relax and do what I need to do when it comes to concerts.

Some of the camera settings, at least for me, when taking concert photos, are not straightforward. I now don't worry as much about "noise" as the software has become more able to reduce it. So this allows getting the shutter speed up while opening the aperture at the same time. However then there can be too much light especially when there is a "hot spot" which is pretty much all the time with stage lighting. So I stop down manually at least one stop and sometimes two. I shoot "RAW" and going dark is always better than overexposing, so that is what I try to do ie under vs overexpose.

If none of the preceding three sentences makes no sense to you... it's okay. Even the people who understood it likely don't agree.

You can go see about 50 performances photographed at the website

www.davidarment.photos

See you at the Blue Gate (make sure you go to the right one)!

My Funeral

My Funeral repost from January 26, 2014

Today I came to the horrible realization that no one is going to come to my funeral. Of course I am going to have to die first. Then after that, (the death thing) no one is going to come. If I were not me I would certainly not go to my funeral. Since I am me, I am probably stuck with HAVING to go, otherwise I would skip it.

This all got started when some of us were in a car and we passed a cemetery. There were lots of colorful flowers in the cemetery. This is not easy as there is still snow on the ground here. (Please get with Al Gore and hurry that global warming thing along if you could.) So we put tow and tow together which is better than putting two and two together and came to the conclusion that the flowers were plastic.

I asked those in the car to be sure when I die that I have fresh plastic flowers on my grave. I am sure that after a few months they get bleached out from the sun and so I want to be sure they are always fresh. There was complete silence in the car. It was clear no one was going to go out every few months and put fresh plastic flowers on my grave. I would do it myself, but with the being dead thing it will be a problem.

We then drove by a place where they sell grave stones. I am just guessing that having this business near the cemetery was not an accident. Inside you could see they were selling plastic flowers. I am sure they were lovely and fresh. Maybe they even smelled of new plastic.

I love that smell. 

I am going to write to the association of cemetery head markers and suggest that they provide a service where they go out every few months and put fresh, plastic flowers on your grave. It would be like a contracted, pre-payer plan. 

I also want that someone, while they are there with the new plastic flowers, to say a prayer and cry a little. This could be a new profession - professional griever. When the professional griever comes to my grave to cry, it needs to be a heartfelt cry. I would pay more for “heartfelt”. This would be very nice especially if there were people nearby who could look over and see someone crying by my grave. I would pay more for “heartfelt” and if people were looking on. I am not sure how to work that into the "Contact for Services" in the pre-payer plan. There are good lawyers who could figure that out. 

Or maybe I could just have someone come into the cemetery and take flowers off of other people’s graves and put them on mine. Who is going to know? And dead people don’t usually complain. This would likely get me a discount from the professional griever / plastic flower person.

For the funeral itself, I will likely have to pay a lot for a whole host (host is a good word in reference to death and dying), of professional grievers. 

No one is going to come except Keith who I told could play the clip of the monkeys telling the penguin joke at my funeral. Keith and the professional grievers - that will be it. You won't know cause you won't be there. 

©David L Arment, All rights reserved.

Bladder Confusion

 

On my phone things "pop up" for me to watch. It just happens. I do nothing to "egg it on". It just happens. Like majiic. Or magic. (I think magic should have a "j" in it because it looks so much better.) I have no idea what topics I may be treated to on a given day. A dog may be fetching a bone. A cat may be playing the piano. Anything goes, and who knows.

I heard it was based upon some whim by a fellow named Al Gorythem. Mr Gorythem is a pretty busy person.

Today I was treated to a person telling us (us meaning me) not to go pee, "just in case". Apparently peeing "just in case" can cause bladder confusion. So she said that if you are going somewhere and your bladder isn't telling you to "go" then you shouldn't go "just in case". You really should need to have to "go" or you shouldn't "go".

One of the things that bothered me about the clip is she just out and said the word "pee". I don't know about you but people who just say "pee" without reservation and with no hesitation or embarrassment and seem unfettered by normal societal conventions is bothersome. These aforementioned conventions would have / should have had her saying "tinkle" or "going number one" or "take a leak". My all time favorite and the one I use when I'm with Pam (in a deep voice) is to say "I go make big water". I don't say that around other folks and I really don't want anyone to know I say that so please just let's keep that between us.

This lady who was giving "taking a whizz" advice was very attractive. So I'm betting, based upon that fact, that she knew what she was talking about. And her attractiveness probably is why she determined that she could say "pee" so openly and freely.

But nowadays very attractive people can be generated to the computer. They can talk. Their words even match their mouth movement. So it is getting to a point where you can't believe anything you see, nothing you read and only half of what you say.

Pam was briefly hooked on "Baby Trump" videos. I dunno why. She just enjoyed them and watched them. I dunno why.

But I digress.

So from now on I will only be "tapping a kidney" when it is absolutely necessary. I'm just "holding it" from now on. So if you invite me to your house (okay it isn't very likely) and you live further away than 30 minutes from where I am then when I walk through your front door I am going to need the facilities, meaning "the John", "the loo".

I am afraid that if my bladder is confused it could be contagious and other parts of my body might be affected or effected... whatever the case may be. I don't care if my appendix is confused or some of those other parts that only doctors and God in heaven knows about, but the other important ones that you need to function in order to live - need to not be confused.

I hope this helps you in some way.

You Are Welcome.

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie at Christy Otto's House

 This is a picture of a dog sleeping at one of my Amish friend's back door. My friend's name is Christy Otto.

When I pulled down the long driveway two dogs were running around the truck. I couldn't see them all the time and I was worried I'd run over one of them.

Christy Otto was waving like "don't mind those dogs". It's weird how you can communicate with a wave.

So I didn't park in a good spot because of my fear of hurting a dog.

As I climbed out of the big diesel truck Christy Otto said, "Don't worry about those dogs. They always seem to find a way to avoid tires."

I said, "I would hate to come visit you and run over one of your dogs."

"These aren't my dogs, he said, "They don't belong here, but they are here most of the time." He waved gus arm toward the nearby house of his grown kids and grandkids, so I figured that is where they really belonged.

If you look at the picture it looks like they have a water bowl. So that is a good invitation to stay.

Christy Otto is sorta famous. I think maybe he is more well know in Ohio that where he lives here in Indiana. He is an illustrator, and he does a lot of work for "The Truck Patch News" which is published in Ohio.

He has a bunch of books and they are a treasure. I know there are three and maybe there is a fourth one now. These books are very funny. If you want an insight into Amish life and thinking you need these books.

I asked him how the book sales were going and he said that they were good. He said they really picked up around October all the way to just before Christmas.

Then he said, as seriously as can be said, "I don't know where they all go. I would think that everyone has one by now." To which I started to laugh and he explained that he meant the Amish community in the area here.

Christy Otto is also a painter. When he moved from his place to the "daughty house" (the house built very near some grown up children for the older adult parents) there was a sale. It was a big sale. I was only interested in the paintings. But there was also a hand made canoe that was a work of art that Christy had made and I was interested in it. I had no place to put it because we were (and are) downsizing also.

I thought maybe I'd buy an orginal painting. And perhaps help bid up the prices a little.

When the finally got around to the paintings they sold off some reproductions first. The prices were good... if you are the seller. I hoped the people heard that these were the reproductions. They must have because the prices went up when they got to the originals.

One very young person obviously had his eye on one particular painting. It was obvious that he was going to get it. He had a determined look on his face and his bids were quick and emphatic. I thought that he must be a grandchild. He was. He was determined to get a painting of granddad's.

I once asked Christy if I could help him sell his books on line. He looked puzzled and said he didn't know. They had to have a family meeting to decide that "no" they didn't want anything to do with the internet. Not even to sell books.

If you don't have a Christy Otto book. They are at the Blue Gate (in the Craft Barn) and the General Store of Middlebury. Or if you have an Amish store near you they might have one for you.

You can contact me and we will figure out how to get one to you if you are interested.

1 Chronicles 16:34

 Give thanks to the Lord for he is good: his love endures forever.

The Children’s Zoo

Yesterday, or maybe it was today, there was a lady on TV being interviewed about her passion for lady’s boxing. She was associated with the movie “Million Dollar Baby” which has a female boxer as a main character. This lady was upset that women’s boxing is not a Olympic Sport.

And then every once in a while you see people on TV who are upset because other people eat meat. Once in a while you see people who are upset because plants have feelings too and we shouldn’t eat them. We are all going to be on very strict diets if we can’t eat plants or animals.

Yes there is a point to all of this. I can’t remember what it was but if I keep typing it will likely come back to me. Oh yeah… People can get worked up about all kinds of causes can’t they. Dave does not understand why or how people can get this worked up over these causes.

Another example is “youth in Asia”. Why do we care about youth in Asia. Youth in American have lots of trouble and we should worry about them don’t you think. Or better yet, instead of worrying about youth in Asia we should be worried about “mercy killings”.

Going totally unnoticed to the average or even unaverage American are Children’s Zoos. What kind of society are we where we put our children in zoos? This came to Dave’s attention when he was traveling through / past Ft. Wayne, Indiana and saw a sign advertising the children’s Zoo. You might expect this kind of warped and depraved behavior from Californians who are still technically in the United States or in New York, but in Ft. Wayne Indiana?

So Dave got on the Internet and “googled” (it’s a verb now) “Ft Wayne Children's Zoo" and they do have information there about it. They aren’t even trying to hide it. See picture below.

 

Unfortunately it isn’t just the sicko freaks in Ft. Wayne, there are other zoos which display children for your viewing pleasure. Some even have the kids posing in “natural looking” environment, see below.

 

Who will put a stop to this? How will these children grow up to be even semi-normal. 

Please send email Dave with your thoughts on how this terrible thing can be ended, and he will consider your ideas between reruns of “Petticoat Junction”.

a republished "Oldie but goodie"

proverbs 14:30

A heat at peace gives life to the body. Proverbs 14:30
 

Someone does not want to share

Restored photo of a young girl upset with the family cat.

 

Margie 'em

 

“Margie ‘em”, Pam will say this to me sometimes. But it really isn’t sometimes, it is at a particular time.

We had a lady in our church whose name was “Margie”. Margie was old. Really old. At that age where her kids are having discussions behind her back as to "when do we take the keys away". No one had yet taken the keys away from Margie.

At our church they talked a lot about Jesus. Mostly they told us what he had said, and then they told us what he meant by what he said. And then they told us what we should do based upon what he said and what he meant.

They of course knew most people didn't do what they were supposed to so there were also sermons about what Jesus said, what he meant, what we should do and then about why we didn't.

... where was I?

I don’t remember a sermon about patience but it was wrapped up in there with some of those “Frits of the Spirit”. And it was probably mentioned at other times. Someone needs to listen more carefully for me.

But Jesus didn’t have to put up with traffic like Margie did. Like we all do.

In Jesus' day they didn’t have cell phones. Cell phones are the reason that cars don't move when the light turns green at the intersection. Someone is looking at their phone instead of the light and this person is always in front of you.

So there was Margie at the stop light. It went from Red to Green, but Margie couldn’t go because some numbskull was looking at a cat playing the piano on YouTube.

Couldn’t go. 

Waiting. 

Can’t go. 

Waiting. 

What would Jesus Do (WWJD). I dunno. 

But Margie knew.

Margie took her foot off the gas and rolled up and gave them a little bump. 

Encouragement.

A wake up call.

Moving inspiration.

A little love tap. 

A bump.

So when I'm driving, the light turns green and no one moves Pam will say...

Margie 'em

©David L Arment 2025-2026

Super Spitter

 

I learned today that one of my acquaintances has spit. Lots of spit. 

He told us so at breakfast today. 

He and his wife signed up to have their DNA tested in order to find out everything there is to know about their DNA. 

As you may or may not know, it is important to have DNA. If you don’t have it then you ain’t nobody. And we all want to be somebody.

So the test kit came and there where these little bottles. The purpose of these little bottles was for your spit. 

Once your spit is in them, the bottles go to a lab in some far away place with a strange sounding name. I know this because all labs that do testing on DNA are in a place with a strange sounding name like Bonga-Bonga. Cleveland would not work. No one would put a DNA lab in Cleveland just because of the name. This is because you have to be able to take the lab seriously when it comes to DNA and no one takes a commons sounding lab location seriously. Like Cleveland.

Maybe a dental lab would work in Cleveland, but not a DNA lab.

Well anyway.

My friend got his spit bottle and filled it up in one spit. One spit! One try! One Sitting! I think spit is both a verb and a noun. So he did the verb into the bottle with his noun.

This is when he told us he has lots of spit. Everyone at the table was regaled with this spittle achievement.

It was said as if it were a grand accomplishment. Like swimming the English Channel. Winning a big race! Or getting your foot back into you shoe without untying it first!

However his wife was apparently moisture deprived. She could not do the verb into the bottle in one sitting. It took her a while. So she was not going to get to finish the channel swim, win any race and would need to untie her shoes. 

Bummer dude.

When she did finally get her bottle sufficiently full their two bottles were sent off to the lab Bonga-Bonga.

I’m not really sure that these bottles had to be completely full, but I didn’t say anything because he was so proud of his spittle accomplishments and I didn't want to burst his spit bubble.

When the lab results for their DNA came back my friend said that lab had told him that he had a SUPER-ATHLETE in his past. Somehow he managed to say this same thing in three different sentences in order for us to understand that one of his relatives was a SUPER-ATHLETE. This person (the SUPER-ATHLETE ) had passed his DNA down to my friend through the generations and that explains why my friend says that he will live to a very old age. Maybe over 100!

It was like winning the DNA lottery.

But I wonder... will his prodigy have lots of spit?