Recipe for Living

1. Your Freedom of Choice is a God-given gift, cherish and protect it.

2. You were born with Freedom of Choice as a part of your being, without it, you would be a robot.

3. Freedom of Choice is the most valuable of all your possessions. No one can take it from you. Use it.

4. The more you use your Freedom of Choice, the greater the opportunity you will have for its use.

5. Freedom of Choice is the only thing you can take with you when you leave this plane of existence.

6. By controlling and directing your thinking, you create your life; you are free to think as you please.

7. Therefore: choose well: the good, the true, and the beautiful, with Love. Believe that you will receive NOW, and you will have a happier, healthier, and more prosperous life.

Serves: All who digest this recipe.

J. F. Baker (1985)

MM

Chief Little Buck, 1981

Sunday 22, No Rain Moon

To: White Squaw with machine which paints turkey tracks on leaves of bark.

From: Me, Chief of Tribe, with plenty plew but no wampum.

Roll of bark come teepee Chief Little Buck. White Squaw make marks on piece of bark. Trading time comes, tribe has heap much wampum in hollow tree, Chief Little Buck trade wampum for White Squaw's piece of bark. Turkey track painting machine gets owl feather.

I have spoken,
Chief Little Buck ~B~

(1961)
_____
Translation provided by Chief White Water (Phill):

The White Squaw = Virginia
Machine which paints, etc. = typewriter
Wampum = money
No Rain Moon = some month which hasn't delivered rain
Plew = Something of value he uses to trade
Roll of Bark = paper
Hollow tree = bank
Owl feather = a reward of some kind

Evidently, Grandpa gave her a piece that he had written and she typed it so
that he could submit it and receive money for it. Probably something like a
submission to Reader's Digest. If he got paid, then he would deposit the
money in the bank and reimburse my mother for some expenses.

I Have A Friend

In the High Sierras, 1980

I have a friend. It's nice to have a friend. I hike the trails and roads through the forest every day. Since the weather turned warm, I like to sit on a stump and rest; listen to the birds sing, watch the flowers grow, and enjoy the silence of the forest.

One such stump is located near the Calaveras Ranch gate. The first few days I sat there, I noticed a large black bird flying back and forth, back and forth, watching what I was doing. This bird has a name that sounds like "Pixselated" woodpecker. As I can't say his real name, I call him "Pixselated".

Then I first saw the stump, it was covered by the usual forest debris of pine needles, oak leaves, etc. I brushed away some of it before sitting down. After a few days, I noticed the stump had been completely cleaned. Did the bird do it with his wings, or did a squirrel do it bit by bit? I don't know, but I do know I have a friend—a friend who wishes me to be comfortable on the stump.

Then a few days later, I found another sign that I have a friend among the little folks of the forest. Right smack dab in the middle of the stump was an acorn. A ripe acorn, one that had either been buried in the ground last fall before the first snow fell, or had been hid in a hollow tree all winter. There are no acorns on the ground this time of year, so it is quite obvious that my very good friend not only wishes me to be comfortable, but desires to share his food supply with me. Which is it? The bird, or the squirrel, or both?

Because I wanted to say "thank you," I placed a small white stone where my friend had placed the acorn. Tomorrow, I will return to see what happened to the stone. I have a very good friend.

Grandpa Baker

July 1985

p.s. the stone is still there

p.p.s. much later - the stone is gone

1985

Frank Kraft, Dorothy, cousin Hazel Kraft,
John Baker (Dad), Virginia at Mountain Ranch 1985

The fire bells rang,
Clangity-clang,
Sixty seven years ago.

Roses are red
And so were you,
Sixty seven years ago.

Sugar and spice
And everything nice,
Sixty seven years ago.

A bundle of Love,
Just like a bud,
Sixty seven years ago.

Now it's later,
Just a little later,
A joyous time of year.

It's Birthday Time,
A Happy Time,
For Rose Bud, so Dear.

Happy Birthday, Dorothy!

I Love you!

Dad

November 10, 1985

The Fireman's Report

As I was going down the street,
Who do you suppose I chanced to meet?
A man whose coattails were on fire,
The smoke was rising higher and higher.

As I drove up in my fire bus,
Says he to me, "What's all this fuss?"
Says I to him, "Your coat's a smoking."
Says he to me, "You must be joking."

Just then the fire got very hot,
And he began to feel the spot.
And he turns to me and raves and rants,
"Fireman, fireman, save my pants."

Now a fireman's duty, so I've been told,
Is to fight a fire, so brave and bold.
So I got out the fire hose,
And knocked that fire right on the nose.

The fire's out.
Investigatin',
Reveals the fact
He's Johnny Aiken.

Now Johnny smokes good old Bull,
And needless to say, his pipe was full.
And when he met Miss June Hocket,
He slipped his pipe within his pocket.

With dire results.
I must confess,
I saved his pants,
But lost his vest.

J. F. Baker - 1925

n.b. This is a copy of an actual report filed in the Los Angeles County Fire Department of an incident as described.

The Birds of Thought

The birds of thought
Rest and nest
In the tree of Spiritual Knowledge,
From whence they fly to other trees
Which have protective foliage.

To receive good thoughts
One must provide
A tree of strength and brightness,
Of faith, of hope, of trust,
And with abundant leaves of loving kindness

* * *

A tree with the lakes, streams and mountains
where it grows is a symbol of the Loving Kindness
of the Great Spirit. It provides food, fuel,
shelter, strength and beauty for all.

Paleface better stop destroying it or Paleface
will lose all contact with the Great Spirit.
_________

Little Buck

Member of the congregation

of the Great Outdoors

(1972)