Automobile emission test in the Philippines.
Our car tabs are due for renewing. As an added benefit, the Kia dealership we purchased our car from does this for us. The only thing we have to do is take our car in for an emissions test. Yesterday, was the day. I picked up the guy from the Kia dealership to accompany me for this test. They have their inside contacts. When we got to the testing place, we waited about five minutes while they finished the testing of the car in front of us with the test tube stuck up the exhaust pipe. When it was our turn, they asked me to drive ahead to the testing area and to just leave the car running. When I got out they very quickly stuck the test tube up the exhaust pipe and quickly pulled it out. I then waited wondering when they were going to start the test. In about 5 minutes the Kia dealership guy that accompanied me to do this test came out of the emission office and said “you passed, lets go.” He had the paper in hand. I didn’t ask any questions. Had they done the real test I’m am very sure it would have passed. Our car, a Kia Diesel Sportage, is only 3 years old with 22,000 KM.
Yesterday’s Error Correction
I errored yesterday big time with my posting of Dianne’s condolence message to the Hiatt family. I listed her as Dianne Tremblay and not Dianne Robert.
Dianne, I am so sorry for this error. I do know better. I have reposted correctly.
Condolences to the Alice Hiatt Family:
From Dianne Robert Johnson (76): Rolla, ND
Gary, please post this:
I am so sorry to hear about Mrs. Haitt, my condolences go out to her family(s). I worked with Lori for many years @ TMC, my heart goes out to her.
I do know the pain and sorrow of losing a Mother. My thoughts and Prayers are with you and your family.
Happy Birthday Allen Richard (65):
Today, February 26th is your birthday. Happy Birthday to an ole class mate. With my birthday being in July, I will always be catching up to you though. That is what I remember doing in school too. It seems like yesterday we celebrated our 60th and that was 3 years ago.
From Dick Johnson (68): Dunseith, ND
Gary and Friends,
When my son, Dave, was about 11 or 12 he also wanted a horse. I knew who would be taking care of it so I wasn’t real thrilled about getting one. He hounded me until I decided we would see if there was an old tame riding horse that he could have that wouldn’t cause us any more hospital visits with broken arms and the like. I was told of a mare for sale up by Lake Metigoshe that was older and a real good riding horse. I called the owner and we went to take a look. She hadn’t been ridden yet that spring and the owner was just putting the saddle on when we got there. Having been bucked off, scraped off in the brush, bitten, and stepped on many times, I was skeptical of the way she kept turning her head slightly and giving me the eye. Dave really wanted to jump on and go for a ride but I said maybe I better go for a short ride first, just to check her out. The owner told me to ride around behind his barn and there was a nice grass strip where I could ride her. She kept the old evil eye looking back at me as I went through the short trail to the open. Something told me there was a bit more to this old mare than I had heard. When I got to the grass I lightly kicked her sides and said, “Lets go.” She went alright. Right to bucking and spinning in circles—just like the old days. I rode it out and when she quit, I put the reins to her sides and said, “Now let’s go.” We tore down the grass strip at a wild gallop, but when we got to the end and I reined her back she went to bucking and spinning again like a rodeo horse. I was ready so just let her have her fit until she quit again and I put the reins to her and headed back wide open. I hadn’t noticed that my son had run along behind out to the field and witnessed the entire event. When I slid up to him, I said, “Well, what do you think?” He said, “Maybe we better look around.” We still laugh about that one. Good horse sense there kid. Thanks Gary!
From Vickie Metcalfe (70): Bottineau, ND
Gary & friends,
My dad was the horseman. His adage to me was often, ” You
gotta be smarter than the horse”.
I grew up in the shadow of stories about his sister, my
namesake Leona, and her keen horsemanship. “Toby” ,who could ride
sideways, ride backwards and ride standing up without a saddle on a
So, of course, I tried all those ways of riding a horse. Be
it in the very beginning, on the horse named “Byrd”.
My cousins will all smile and chuckle. Many of them remember,
because they too grew up with “Byrd”. “Byrd” was a white percheron
mare. She was gentle and old and wise to the ways of kids.
Byrd could be rode bareback. Once,Washington cousins came to
visit, there were five girls various sizes, riding Byrd, all at the
same time. We put the only bridle she had, the one with the blinders
on the sides. Reins of baling twine, then helped each other up. Byrd
plodded patiently along, then surprised us all with a quick turn. Off
the front, we slid in slow motion. 1,2, 3—-4 onto the dirt!
The summer my brother was born, Byrd, my sister,Nancy and I
worked picking sticks and rocks off a bulldozing. All, summer long,
Byrd pulled the stone boat up and down, back and forth in the hot
sun. Dusty and dirty Nancy and I picked sticks. Patient Byrd, her
tail switching flies. When the field looked perfect, dad would
cultivate and pull more up. It was a full time summer job!
In the late summer afternoons, Byrd became my cow pony. I
would pull her toward the fence, crawl up the wires, climb on her
back, quickly, before she made a hasty turn. Off we’d go to the
south pasture to fetch the cows. And we never came home until all
Sometimes Byrd decided she’d had enuff! If she was close
to a slough she’d go lie down and roll. If she was close to the barn
she would not be detoured. She’d squeeze through the barn door! If a
person was lucky, the door was open more than a foot. Then,Duck.
Lie flat. Pull up the legs. And keep yelling Whoa!, Byrd, WHOA!
I learned to first harness and drive a horse with Byrd. She
was strong,and the two of us worked as a team cleaning the calf pens
in the barn. She had worked it out to swing the stone boat over the
pile and with just the right pitch of my fork the load would slide
off slick as a whistle.
I got great pleasure cleaning that barn with Byrd and
bringing in sweet, golden, straw into the pens. Uncle Emil once
commented, “You’re a good barn cleaner”. And, I knew then, it was my
true calling.Yep. No housework for me when I could be working in the
barn, singing off key at the top of my lungs.
Doing it all with a horse named Byrd who I found, I was
never smarter than she.