Misc data and adventures of a Tayopa treasure hunter

[Ditlihi]

Howdy Ditlihi,

Looks like that solution would help Don Jose. For about 35 years I wore RS skins on my hats. Just last week an old friend called me, and after catching up on things, asked if I still wore snake skins on my hat. I would just flesh them out good, throw salt on the de-fleshed side, and let them get a sun tan without any sun tanning solution. Nice boots.

audigger53, most of the rattlers around here average five pounds, we fillet them. You just have to start at one end like taking out a loin, then you can just run your fingers down as you pull with the other hand. Nice boneless nuggets.

Homar

What!?!?! You wasted perfectly good salt on a snake?!

No, no, no, mi buen Amigo.....the salt is for the tequila.

And Don Jose's hide is already tanned tougher than shoe leather, those rocks I shot just bounced right off his bare backside like bb's off a buffalo, sigh.

 

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[markmar]

It's not the left hook ya have ta watch out for.

Hi Ditlihi

You wear only the boots ?

 

[Ditlihi]

Hi Ditlihi

You wear only the boots ?

Tsk, tsk, tsk, I blame this on Senor Tayopa.....see Jefe, look what you have done to poor Marius with all your talk of Greek dancing girls! Shame on you.

No, my dear friend Marius, I just raised the hem of my mumu and rolled the stockings down from my knees. Didn't want to distract from the message.

Now go on and wash your brain out with soap....and take everything Sir Tayopa says with a grain of salt...and tequila!

 

[Shortfinger]

Tsk, tsk, tsk, I blame this on Senor Tayopa.....see Jefe, look what you have done to poor Marius with all your talk of Greek dancing girls! Shame on you.

No, my dear friend Marius, I just raised the hem of my mumu and rolled the stockings down from my knees. Didn't want to distract from the message.

Now go on and wash your brain out with soap....and take everything Sir Tayopa says with a grain of salt...and tequila!

I have a couple of comments here: 1. Marius is the one who introduced Don Jose to the Grick dancing girls (although he was admittedly very quick to embrace the concept), so you can hardly blame that on the Don. 2. It is difficult to see either the stockings or the muumuu, so it is perfectly understandable that Marius would make the mistake. 3. Wearing only the boots would make for a much more effective attack, as no one (male, at least) would be looking at the boots.

JB

 

[Ditlihi]

I have a couple of comments here: 1. Marius is the one who introduced Don Jose to the Grick dancing girls (although he was admittedly very quick to embrace the concept), so you can hardly blame that on the Don. 2. It is difficult to see either the stockings or the muumuu, so it is perfectly understandable that Marius would make the mistake. 3. Wearing only the boots would make for a much more effective attack, as no one (male, at least) would be looking at the boots.

JB

I stand corrected.

In my boots.

Excellent tip, JB.......and quite liberating I might add.

 

[audigger53]

Tsk, tsk, tsk, I blame this on Senor Tayopa.....see Jefe, look what you have done to poor Marius with all your talk of Greek dancing girls! Shame on you.

No, my dear friend Marius, I just raised the hem of my mumu and rolled the stockings down from my knees. Didn't want to distract from the message.

Now go on and wash your brain out with soap....and take everything Sir Tayopa says with a grain of salt...and tequila!

Ah Boots and soap. while in HS we would take a bar of soap and soak it for 3 days in a bucket of water. Then we would take it out, chop it in half and put one half each into the toes of the Cowboy boots. Channel most of it out with our hands and then with bare feet use the toes to finish the fit. Set it out in the nice Arizona summer sun for 3 days and you had light weight "steel toed boots" that also helped get your socks clean when washing them.

 

[markmar]

I stand corrected.

In my boots.

Excellent tip, JB.......and quite liberating I might add.

Now I would say how following the highest order , by now we would like to see your snake leather belt .

 

[Mr bigshot]

So speaking of snakes..... When I was ten or so I remember trying to catch the slithering creatures with some of my friends. Someone said that gardner snakes won't bite you and everyone else was in agreement. I knew this to be true as I had caught a few before this time and had never been bit. So as luck would have it, I happened to see a nice specimen trying to hightail it away from all of us. I gave chase, and soon had it in my hands. I was beaming proudly with my prize in hand and everyone standing around admiring my athletic prowess when the little bugger twisted his head around and grabbed ahold of my wrist. I don't really remember if it hurt at first, but I remember looking down and thinking wtf? You can't bite me. Then as if out of spite he let my wrist go and and bit my thumb at the knuckle. Suddenly it registered (yeah I know maybe a little slow) this guy didn't get the memo. He was biting me and it hurt. I won't say I panicked, but I remember doing a helicopter type of move, yelling and screaming, jumping all around in quite an awkward fashion. The little bugger hung on for ever(at least long enough for me to learn a very valuable lesson). I don't remember a whole lot after that except there was some discussion about me being "snake bit" and I would probably die. I know I never told my mom and was surprised that I woke up the next morning, as I had resigned myself to my fate. I also wished I had died for a time over the teasing I took when it was decided I wasn't terminal. Sometimes I wish I was a little bit smarter in those days. (Hell, even these days). So what I learned was that the little buggers will bite you, but you probably won't die, although it will leave you wishing you did. Oh yeah, and that little boys are stupid and mean.

 

[markmar]

Speaking about snakes , I was forced to kill two in my whole life , one venomous ( vipera ) in my home yard for safety and another one non venomous because was eating my chicken eggs at my little farm . Otherwise , I leave them to go or rest in peace . They don't attack humans and bite only if they feel attacked . So , if you see a snake , let him go or you go around him . Always the compromise works .
I have saw and heard many snakes in my hunting days , and at that moment just stopped walking to give them the opportunity to escape . In one case of the hunting days , following a path on a rocky mountainside , I was sitting on a small boulder to rest and after about ten minutes a venomous Vipera started slippering slowly away just from beside my right leg . He was there but did't bite me . He felt how was safe and just left the place . I gave him the opportunity to live like he did with me .
Here in Greece , in Kefalonia island , is a church named " Virgin Mary Laguvardas " at which every year close to Virgin Mary anniversary day some little snakes ( known widely as cat snakes ) show up and have a friendly relation with the local folks and the visitors . The legend says how : ( text from The most interesting churches of Kefalonia island )

" The church of the Virgin Mary Laguvarda is located in the village of Markopoulo and was built on the ruins of an old monastery destroyed by the Turks.
According to local legend, when, in 1705, the monastery was attacked by pirates, the scared nuns prayed to Madonna of being turned into serpents to escape the cruelty of their captors.
The prayers were answered and the nuns were turned into snakes that did escape the pirates with fear.
Since then, every year on the day of August the nuns-snakes return to the monastery to bring good luck and prosperity to the village.
This legend explains why, every 15th August, harmless little snakes appear inside and around the church and at end of the day they disappear.
This is another of the mysteries that characterize the island of Kefalonia. "

I have visited this church in the summer of 2004 . In the photo below , a local guy puts a famous snake on my son's shoulder . My son was 12 years old in this picture .

 

[Ditlihi]

Now I would say how following the highest order , by now we would like to see your snake leather belt .

Ooooh, aren't you a sneaky one. I've got my eye on you, cupcake.

 

[PROSPECTORMIKEL]

Well, another one broke the "fence rule" yesterday evening, as I was mowing around the house.
My second pass around the back corner of the patio. He was straight in front of the mower, so I made a quick charge at him and that moron went for the patio, so I let the mower go and grabbed my trusted bayonet that is mounted in an adjustable length handle and the battle for the back door ensued...
I trapped him for a moment, but not close enough to the head. He struck at me and I pulled back, rolling him into a knot, which only ticked him off more. He had about a foot and a half strike. My extendable length handle suddenly felt way too short.
Next stop was under my grill, so I rolled it away and he made a run thru the lawn chairs and headed for my toolbox. I struck and connected just behind the head and rolled him back and forth several times, but he wasn't giving up. He turned his head and struck the tip of the bayonet, so I lunged toward the brick wall and trapped his head and twisted it until I had the tip pressed into the back of his head and started walking forward until he was on the dirt and pressed it thru his head, he still was able to wrap himself around the handle, trying to pull it out, so I threw him and the bayonet, like a spear, into a tree.

He was trapped but still fighting, so I grabbed my machete from its place at the edge of the steps and with all of my concentration and all of my rapidly depleting strength, I swung a hit my mark... With his head attached to the tree, his body fell to the ground...

And The Lord called the poor thing home...

 

[releventchair]

Well, another one broke the "fence rule" yesterday evening, as I was mowing around the house.
My second pass around the back corner of the patio. He was straight in front of the mower, so I made a quick charge at him and that moron went for the patio, so I let the mower go and grabbed my trusted bayonet that is mounted in an adjustable length handle and the battle for the back door ensued...
I trapped him for a moment, but not close enough to the head. He struck at me and I pulled back, rolling him into a knot, which only ticked him off more. He had about a foot and a half strike. My extendable length handle suddenly felt way too short.
Next stop was under my grill, so I rolled it away and he made a run thru the lawn chairs and headed for my toolbox. I struck and connected just behind the head and rolled him back and forth several times, but he wasn't giving up. He turned his head and struck the tip of the bayonet, so I lunged toward the brick wall and trapped his head and twisted it until I had the tip pressed into the back of his head and started walking forward until he was on the dirt and pressed it thru his head, he still was able to wrap himself around the handle, trying to pull it out, so I threw him and the bayonet, like a spear, into a tree.

He was trapped but still fighting, so I grabbed my machete from its place at the edge of the steps and with all of my concentration and all of my rapidly depleting strength, I swung a hit my mark... With his head attached to the tree, his body fell to the ground...

And The Lord called the poor thing home...

View attachment 1455627

Yikes!
Good thing there was only one to deal with....

 

[markmar]

PROSPECTORMIKEL

I believe you should take some cats at your home . They are terrific snake hunters .

 

[Ditlihi]

Looks like y'all just aren't gonna cut me any slack on the dang things, so I guess I will share ONE little story on the theme. But fair warning....I can get long winded when it comes to story tellin'. So grab an adult beverage, or a cup of java, and get comfortable...this might take a while.

As some of you already know, I'm a country gal, raised in the flintrock covered hills of Oklahoma, near the Arkansas border. LOTS of snakes in those hills....this is a story about just one of them...sort of.

One of the great things about learning to drive out in the country is that there is always someone with a junkyard out back, full of old clunkers for salvage when you find yourself in a jam. We had such a neighbor down the road a piece who could sell you a worn fan belt when yours broke and fix flats as well. He also offered a tow service using his rusty one-ton truck, outfitted with a chain and homemade hoist.

The three brothers who ran this little operation were, well ... a little slow, to be kind about it. The one who drove the wrecker was a pudgy, unshaven fella with a speech impediment and a permanent rime of tobacco juice around a toothless grin. The scant hair that circled his bald pate was always sticking up from rubbing his grease covered hands through it, his overalls black from constant wear and little washing. But he always had a smile. I never saw him without that ear to ear grin. He would ride around those dirt roads, kicking up dust and looking for stranded drivers. On one such occasion I was elated to see that cloud of dust approaching from the distance, as I had run over a sharp rock and had a flat tire.

Now, I knew how to change a flat by that time in my driving career, but my spare was flat too. I was in a fix. I grinned up into the cab of his truck as he pulled alongside, and told him I sure was glad to see him. He grinned down at me, spitting out an enormous wad of tobacco, and said he was " Fwad " to see me too. Nodding my head with a laugh, I replied “ That makes two of us “.

He shook his head, and the smile went away, " FWAD " he repeated a little louder. I just kept smiling and reassured him I understood. " I know " I said, " I'm glad, too ", winking my eye and sticking my hand out to shake his.

He shook his head no, pointing down at the ground by my feet, and hollered, " Pandake! "

Snake?! I jumped and spun around looking for the snake he was pointing at. You see, I have a terrible fear of snakes and started screaming before I could help myself. I jumped up on the hood of my car, and looking back at him screamed ...

" Where? " …. " Where is it?!! "

His eyes had widened and he looked as scared as I was. He pointed down at the ground beside my car and shouted,

" ADDA PANDAKE!! "

Adda...? ADDER!!

I had seen my grandma fight off a Spreadin' Adder once with a garden hoe and remembered how vicious it had been, rising up and striking at that hoe, driving my grandma back. I decided I probably wasn't safe on the hood of my car .... it might be able to reach me! So, I jumped over, clambering up onto his truck hood, and screamed " KILL IT...KILL IT!!! ", pointing down at the ground.

His eyes were bulging out of their sockets and spittle was running down the side of his chin as he opened and closed his mouth, eyes dancing back and forth between me and the ground. His hands opened and closed on empty air as he shook his arm back down towards the ground by my car.

" DAD TAH!! " he shouted, shaking his pointing finger towards the ground, " DAD TAH !!! "

Dad...? What in the world was he talking about? My dad was at work, how could he help me? So I hollered back...

" My Dad would be FWAD if you KILLED IT FOR ME!! "

By this time I was getting hysterical thinking about that Spreadin' Adder coming up onto the hood after me. I looked down through his windshield and saw that he had taken a gun out of his glovebox and was holding it with a shaking hand in his lap. His head was whipping back and forth between me and the ground, his eyes watering, and gasping like a landed fish. He was fumbling with the gun and groaning like he was in pain when I heard the sound of another car coming from behind me.

The road was blocked with my car on one side and his truck on the other and the next thing I knew, a woman was walking up behind me asking what was the trouble. I screamed at her, " There's a spreadin' adder on the road under my car! ". She gave a matching scream and climbed up onto the truck as well. Faced with two screaming females on his hood he finally broke, and putting the gun out the window with shaking hands .... he shot the back tire of my car.

" DAD TAH ID FWAD ADDA PANDAKE ... FWAD ADDA PANDAKE !!! "

That Tire Is Flat As A Pancake.

He had killed my tire for me, just as I had asked him to.

Many years later, I was sponsoring a carwash for my pre-teen niece's cheerleading squad, to help raise money for new uniforms. To my suprise that same old rusty wrecker pulled in for a wash. Hoping that his memory was too far gone after all these years, I watched as the girls giggled about washing such a junker, but in the spirit of the day gave him a good effort. As my niece walked up to his window to collect his donation, he cocked his finger at me and I heard him say " I yod dad tah ", and with a toothless grin in my direction he handed her a five dollar bill and drove away. Stunned, my niece turned to me and exclaimed …

" Did he just say he was your Daddy? "



I think we're even now.

 

[releventchair]

Hoo-wee!
He yod dat tah aright. Yod dat tah gud.

 

[PROSPECTORMIKEL]

Dit.

I can completely relate, as to the language that he spoke, as it is what I hear from everyone due to the ringing and nerve damage to my ears.

And as for the hysteria, I have two and sometimes three females in my home plus a lapdog and a kitten, a delicate recipe for tranquility, until one snake is added, then it's like mixing nitric acid and glycerin.

So when snakes try to get into the walls or doors, they open the gates of he11!

My only solitude comes from them seeing that the threat has been dispatched with extreme prejudice.

#};0(~

P.s.... That was the funniest thing I have read in a very long time!
(;0)~

 

[Mackaydon]

This weekend......I pause to honor those who didn't make it.

Don.......

 

[Ditlihi]

Thank you, Don...

A gentle reminder that Memorial Day is not just a day for remembrance of our veterans, but a day for remembering All those who have gone before....

 

[PROSPECTORMIKEL]

And the men and women that made it back in the flesh, but not in mind, full body or spirit.

And those who's hearts have been broken, by their loss of loved ones.

RESPECT.

 

[audigger53]

And the men and women that made it back in the flesh, but not in mind, full body or spirit.

And those who's hearts have been broken, by their loss of loved ones.

RESPECT.

Still burns inside me about the way we of the Vietnam action were treated when we returned. I have no idea how many lives we saved by our gun fire support in Nov. 1967. I regret none of the Fire missions. I remember picking up a Marine at the Phoenix Airport in Jan 1969. After giving me the address, he started in with Draft Dogger this and Peacenik that. When I stopped at a traffic light, I turned and looked at him and said, "I already did my 4 thank you very much, F you!"
Yeah what service? Navy and you either loved or hated my rating, no in between. What? Fire Control! You guys are great! We were dug in on a ridge and 800 yards away on the next ridge was NVA with heavy motors. We could not take them out as they were backed up with heavy machine guns. The Lt. told the radio man to get us some Fire Support. He told the Lt. I've got them!. The Lt. jumped into the radioman's foxhole and told them where they needed the rounds. "How much do you need?" Everything that you got, we're in a bad way! Later the voice on the radio said, "They are on the way."
They waited and waited and the Lt. told the radioman to call them back and find out what happened to their rounds. About that time the Marine heard the most horrible sound above. "I don't know how to describe it."
"I do. God reached down and picked up a Fright Car and threw it in a spiral like a foot ball."
"My God, your right! The opposite ridge leaped up into the air and came down 2/3's the height. We were knocked out of our foxholes and knew we were deaf."
Then we heard this little tinny voice on the radio say, "Well they should have got there by now, do you need any more?"
There was a rush to the radioman and the Lt. said, "No, no that was more than enough, who is this?"
The voice on the radio laughed and said, "Sea Dragon". The USS New Jersey had just fired 9 16 inch rounds at 1500 LBS HE to the other ridge at 800 yards range of them. True story.
He was very happy to talk on the ride to his home with me after that.