Wednesday, May 23, 2018

A Bit Of Catching Up

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My computer went down last Wednesday night and my new Acer desktop arrived today. I was $100 shy of having enough money and I almost decided to do without a computer for a few weeks or months. Luckily, when my mom heard about it, she offered to loan me the last $100 I needed.

I did manage to reread "Treasure Island" during those offline days, along with Eric Sloane's "A Museum of Early American Tools." I hadn't read the former since I was a kid, and had totally forgotten the story, so it was like a new book to me. My wife thought that I was silly reading a "children's book," but I enjoyed it. As for the latter, it jogged my memory on a few things, including the fact that Sloane didn't get EVERYTHING correct, though he got 99% of them. He was a city boy, I think and did a fantastic job at research, but some things are known only by country boys.

I accidentally saw part of the royal wedding the other day as we were getting ready to leave and had the TV on. I'm not impressed by such things in the least, for I couldn't help wondering how many hungry people lived with in a mile of the chapel, where those solid gold platters were displayed (worth many thousands of dollars, I'm sure). Also, I realize that a wedding is considered "the bride's day," by many, but I thought the black gospel jumping and jiving after the service was disgraceful, considering the time, place and circumstances.

They've been replacing most of the culverts on my road these past few days, so sometimes we had to go to town one way, and sometimes the opposite way. They filled over the new culverts and topped then fill with limestone, but some idiots hit them at top speed, throwing limestone out of the fill and making a big trench across the road. Naturally, that makes it rougher for each succeeding driver until smart people have to creep across the ditches, while the idiots keep hitting them at 90 miles-an-hour.

I finally finished up my study of Genesis during my time offline and began studying Revelation. One thing I've learned is to take Bible commentaries with a grain of salt, as most are reflections of the theology of the college the writer attended, as much as a reflection of the words of the scripture.

I kept seeing ads for the show "Man v Food" on TV this week. Though I have nothing personal against the "star" of the show, I think it's horribly sinful to encourage people to eat like pigs just on a dare. In always remember that there are probably hungry people within a half-mile of the camera.

A couple young guys deliberately ran over a box turtle in front of my place the other day, then picked up the turtle and sat it in front of the tire and ran over it again to finish it off. I couldn't have gotten to them in time or I'd have taken my cane to them, and the gun was still inside the house, so they got by with it.

My three dollar bill cousin in Florida lost his "companion" of 49 years this week. Though I take the Lord's view of their behavior, I still feel a little bad for the guy.n I grew up around old people, going to nursing homes and funerals and being pall-bearer at who knows how many funerals before I ever reached adulthood. He moved away from home when he was young and never had to deal with all that, so he isn't handling the whole situation very well, I don't think.

Well, that's all for now; maybe I'll think of more tomorrow. Copyright 2018
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Memes May Be Missing For A While

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Everything is different with this computer, so I'll be strating from scratch on a lot of things. Memes will be one of them. Some of you may be pleased by that, others not, but that's just the way it is.
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Cambridge Professor Outed as FBI Informant In Trump Campaign (a link)

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https://nypost.com/2018/05/19/cambridge-professor-outed-as-fbi-informant-inside-trump-campaign/?utm_source=facebook_sitebuttons&utm_medium=site%20buttons&utm_campaign=site%20buttons
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The Times (and Boy Scouts) They Are A'Changin' (a link)

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http://www.wnd.com/2018/05/condoms-required-at-scouts-24th-world-jamboree/
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I'M BAAAACK! (I think!)

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Man! They make it so complicated to set up a new computer that I may just go back to sending smoke signals!
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Friday, May 18, 2018

GOOD-BYE! (for a little while)

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I have two computers and neither one are now working or worth fixing. I'm looking into getting a new one, but things are tight. I hope to have one in a few days, but I can't say just when. Therefore, I won't be posting or responding to comments. This is being posted from the local library. Your loyalty and patience is appreciated. God bless you.
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Chapter 35

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Chapter 35



Forty Furlong Church



Waddington Valley Baptist Church was founded shortly after the end of the Uncivil War, and remains the oldest surviving church in the valley. Located a mile upstream from The Better Way Baptist Church, it’s perched atop a high road-bank. The church is most often called the Forty Furlong Church from being located at the junction of Forty Furlong Run and Waddington Creek. Cynics, however, refer to it as the “Anderson Church,” and with good reason.
Some United Brethren neighbors helped the Baptists to build and maintain the church-house, sharing the structure by having their services on alternating weeks. It wasn’t long, though, before the U.B.’s built their own church and the building became the property of the Baptists alone. From its founding, a particular branch of the Anderson clan had a strangle-hold on all matters great and small within the church. Still, it would have had a hard time getting off the ground without them. Being a prolific bunch, their participation guaranteed a ready crew of workers whenever the need arose and a fair amount of financial support, since most Andersons believe in tithing.
When there’s a national crisis, West Virginia normally donates more money per dollar of income, and has a higher rate of military enlistments than any state in the nation. The ratio holds true in the church as well, and the Sunday before Veterans Day finds men (and a few women) wearing “outgrown” uniforms of an earlier era at the morning service. Even with prayer being now outlawed in the schools, most country church-goers will find an American flag at the front of the sanctuary and some churches, like Forty Furlong Church, will even recite The Pledge of Allegiance and sing the National Anthem on patriotic holidays. The children and grandchildren of those church-goers usually turn out to be responsible citizens, earning their bread by the sweat of their brow and helping their neighbors (and even strangers) in times of trouble, so some good must yet come of a Christian upbringing.
The most common argument against churches is that they’re full of hypocrites. Over the years, Forty Furlong Church has supplied more than its share of ammunition to such detractors. The Andersons will be the first ones on the scene if a neighbor has trouble of some kind, yet also be the first ones to belittle and gossip about the person they just helped. Also, at the next chance to “testify,” rather than stand up and tell what the Lord has done for them, they’re more likely to stand up and tell everyone what they’ve done for the Lord (including the fact that they helped the neighbor). It creates a paradox for those who go to church with or live next to them, for one minute they may feel like hugging them while the next minute they have an overwhelming desire to strangle them.
Making up the majority of the congregation, the Anderson’s fill a majority of the leadership positions with their own family members. True, not every member is named Anderson, but most are the cousin, sibling or in-law of some other member. In a vote, they stick together, so non-family members have generally held little sway in the church over the years.
In spite of their flaws, they do an excellent job of sharing the gospel with their friends and neighbors, so their church has probably brought more people to the Lord in the last 50 years than the other four churches in the valley put together. Sadly, most get tired of attending a church where everything is determined by one family and end up going to some other church. A few give up on church altogether, since it’s hard for some folks to remember to keep their eyes on Jesus rather than on church members.
Like most Baptist churches, Forty Furlong Church picks and pays its own pastor. The up-side of that system is that the congregation can be more certain of getting someone who is theologically and socially acceptable to them. The obvious down-side is that a bull-headed congregation can be sure that they get someone who won’t challenge their thinking too much and who knows not to rock the boat if he wants to keep his job. Many such pastors have preached at the Anderson Church. Still, some have stuck to their guns to the point that they were eventually drummed out of the church for insisting that the church belongs to Jesus, not the Andersons.
A few years ago, things seemed to come to a head. A deacon who had earned the nickname of “the cheatin’ deacon” was reprimanded by a new firebrand preacher. The man had cheated often on his first wife and, after she passed away and he remarried, he cheated even more on the second. After the divorce, those in the know joked that she shouldn’t have been so upset at him for having eight women on the side; after all, only four of his affairs were serious!
Folks figured that the days of the new preacher were numbered, and he probably did too, but he insisted that the deacon either change his ways or step down from his position. Even though many in his family made excuses for the deacon, the day came when the man did step down. Apparently, changing his evil ways was not an option.
Dividing the number of years of that church has been in existence by the number of preachers who have served there gives the average “life expectancy” of a pastor as slightly under four years. The “new” preacher reached that milestone several years ago; it will be interesting to see just how long he lasts. Rumors have it that, under the current preacher, the Anderson strangle-hold on the church has been broken and that the Forty Furlong Church is entering a new era. Others say that only time can tell the end of that story. Copyright 2008
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Tuesday, May 15, 2018

Jihad Pay Versus Israeli Military Pay (a link)

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Be prepared for a little sarcasm mixed with the facts.

https://gellerreport.com/2018/05/hams-pays-rioters-100-a-day.html/
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Black Trump Supporter Verbally Accosted By The Cheesecake Factory Staff (a link)

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https://www.lifezette.com/momzette/customer-verbally-attacked-maga-hat-cheesecake-factory/

Nothing makes liberals angrier than black people who thinks for themselves!
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Tuesday Evening Memes

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Iran Bribe Money Appears To Have Come From Soros (a link)

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https://conservativedailypost.com/iran-deal-bribes-were-funded-by-soros/
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FORCED Bias Testing Is The New Fight (a link)

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https://www.offthegridnews.com/current-events/forced-bias-testing-planned/

People forget that folks have a constitutional right to personal opinions. I don't like blacks as a group, democrats as a group, cops as a group, illegal aliens or muslims at all, and it's my right to FEEL that way, as long as I don't tread on THEIR constitutional rights.
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NY Governor Depriving Citizens Of 1st Amendment Rights (a link)

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https://www.offthegridnews.com/current-events/politics/depriving-gun-owners-first-amendment-rights/
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"Assault" Weapons Explained (a link)

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http://reason.com/archives/2018/05/14/assault-weapons-explained
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Germany's Military May Be Weakest In Europe (a link)

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https://borepatch.blogspot.com/2018/05/germanys-military-may-be-weakest-in.html
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NJ Governor Grants Illegals College Aid And In-State Tuition (a link)

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https://www.lifezette.com/momzette/bonanza-illegals-nj-governor-grants-them-college-aid-in-state-tuition/
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Kalifornia High School Yearbook Has Two Page muslim Spread (a link)

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https://www.jihadwatch.org/2018/05/california-public-high-school-yearbook-has-lavish-two-page-islam-presentation-entitled-allah-akbar
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Treasury Notes Once Again Over 3% (a link)

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https://www.hannity.com/media-room/great-again-treasury-notes-over-3-hit-highest-levels-since-2011/
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Russians Fall Further Behind (a link)

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https://dailytimewaster.blogspot.com/2018/05/the-russians-fall-further-behind-and.html
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The Very First Hacker (a link)

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http://hermitjim.blogspot.com/2018/05/the-first-known-hacker.html
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Monday, May 14, 2018

Yuppie Language And Eco-Warrior Gas Mileage


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Firstly, I've got a beef with the yuppie generation over two words, “celtic” and “herb.” When I was a lad, the “c” was pronounced as an “s,” and the “h” was silent, if you were talking about weeds. For those who Doubt, have you ever heard of the Boston Keltics?” And, just for the record, more than one Englisg quoted the old adage to me that an herb (silent “h”) was a weed, while herb (“h” pronounced) was a guy who lived down the street. You see, I went to the “old school,” unlike the anglophile yuppie generation.

Now the thought of gas mileage was brought to my mind by a meme mentioning the influence of Ralph Nader and his early eco-warriors (Nader's Raiders). He was one of the folks partly responsible for continuing to figure pollution by the gallon, rather than the mile. For decades now, pollution has continued to be measured by the gallon, which forces more gas to be burned to to go the same distance. Several studies have shown the system to cause additional pollution in many situations, but once the government sets a standard, common sense will never again enter into the picture.

May the Lord spare us from those who wish to save us! Copyright 2018
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Monday Night Memes

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Click images to enlarge.














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Kalifornia Tried To Ditch Lincoln And Washington For Communist "May Day" Holiday (a link)

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https://www.sarahpalin-blog.com/2018/05/14/scary-california-tried-adopt-official-communist-workers-holiday/
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McCain's First Wife - And Then There's Those 126 Innocent Sailors He Killed (a link)

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https://truepundit.com/no-mercy-john-mccains-first-wife-speaks-out-mccain-dumped-her-after-crippling-car-wreck-angering-ronald-nancy-reagan/
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Record Breaking Opium Production in U.S. Occupied Afghanistan (a link)

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http://www.wakingtimes.com/2017/11/02/another-record-breaking-year-opium-production-u-s-occupied-afghanistan/
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You Should Watch This IF You Can Bear It! (video)

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This guy is such an egotist and windbag that I couldn't make it all the way through. I stopped at the first sales pitch, even though I'm sure there was good information on the other side, Still, he says some interesting things.

http://lectinblocker.com/aus/180419Aaus.php?n=tba
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Sunday, May 13, 2018

I Dig Rocks


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Not literally, of course, I leave that to the miners, but rocks have always interested me. Like most country boys, my jeans pocket often held a pretty or unusual gravel found along a creek, river or country road in my jeans pocket to add to my collection at home. At one point, I even had a little rock-hound book for kids and had some luck at identifying my treasures. Some of my collection probably stayed around until I left my boyhood home to get married the first time.

I would like to have gone to college to learn geology, but only for my own information, and that was no paying proposition. I knew that if I got a degree in geology, that the only work I'd find would be in the oil or mining businesses, which wouldn't have bothered me, but having to leave the area WOULD have. Family was always very important to me and I'm basically a homebody. So, I never went to college in my youth, when it might have done me some good.

All this came to mind today as I sat by the window in the restaurant where my stepson and his wife had taken us for his mom's Mother's Day supper. Even at my age, I found the gravels the restaurant had used for mulch outside the window to be very interesting. I saw what I took to be quartz, granite and maybe some other igneous rocks, plus sundry sedimentary gravels.

I once had an uncle by marriage who did lapidary work and jewelry-making as sidelines. I could have gotten into that, but time and cost forbade it. So, I just sat there today, looking at the gravels outside the window, wondering where, when and how they were formed, how the different colors originated and what they'd look like polished. I guess there's still some kid in me. Copyright 2018
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Sunday Evening Memes

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Click images to enlarge.















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Nurse Charged In Death Of McMaster's Father (a link)

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https://conservativedailypost.com/nurse-charged-in-mcmaster-sr-death-falsified-documents/
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NRA Sues Cuomo - His Response (a link)

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https://www.bizpacreview.com/2018/05/12/nra-sues-ny-gov-cuomo-for-blacklisting-campaign-heres-his-response-633748?utm_source=Push%20Notifications&utm_medium=BPR
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Utter Insanity (a link)

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https://www.conservativecash.us/watch-sexuality-expert-says-baby-must-give-consent-diaper-changed/?utm_source=spn
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Leigh's New Book (a link)

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http://www.5acresandadream.com/2018/05/a-very-exciting-coming-soon.html
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Saturday, May 12, 2018

Ending The Deficit

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Warren Buffett, "I could end the deficit in 5 minutes," he told CNBC. "You just pass a law that says that anytime there is a deficit of more than 3% of GDP, all sitting members of Congress are ineligible for re-election. The 26th amendment (granting the right to vote for 18 year-olds) took only 3 months & 8 days to be ratified! Why? Simple! The people demanded it. That was in 1971...before computers, e-mail, cell phones, etc. Of the 27 amendments to the Constitution, seven (7) took 1 year or less to become the law of the land...all because of public pressure.
Warren Buffet is asking each addressee to forward this email to a minimum of twenty people on their address list; in turn ask each of those to do likewise. In three days, most people in The United States of America will have the message. This is one idea that really should be passed around.
*Congressional Reform Act of 2011*
1. No Tenure / No Pension. A Congressman collects a salary while in office and receives no pay when they are out of office.
2. Congress (past, present & future) participates in Social Security. All funds in the Congressional retirement fund move to the Social Security system immediately. All future funds flow into the Social Security system, and Congress participates with the American people. It may not be used for any other purpose.
3. Congress can purchase their own retirement plan, just as all Americans do.
4. Congress will no longer vote themselves a pay raise. Congressional pay will rise by the lower of CPI or 3%.
5. Congress loses their current health care system and participates in the same health care system as the American people.
6. Congress must equally abide by all laws they impose on the American people.
7. All contracts with past and present Congressmen are void effective 1/1/17. The American people did not make this contract with Congressmen. Congressmen made all these contracts for themselves. Serving in Congress is an honor, not a career. The Founding Fathers envisioned citizen legislators, so ours should serve their term's), then go home and back to work.
If each person contacts a minimum of twenty people then it will only take three days for most people (in the U.S.) to receive the message. Maybe it is time.
THIS IS HOW YOU FIX CONGRESS!!!!! If you agree with the above, pass it on.
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Syrian muslims Caught Sneaking Across Southern Border (a link)

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https://www.jihadwatch.org/2018/05/texas-muslims-from-syria-caught-sneaking-across-the-border-from-mexico
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Russian Underwater Nuclear Drone Could Destroy Coastal Cities With Tidal Wave (a link)

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http://www.thegatewaypundit.com/2018/05/russias-nuclear-underwater-drone-is-real-could-set-off-tidal-waves-to-wipe-out-coastal-cities/
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New Mexico Democrat Begins His Ad With F*** The NRA (a link)

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https://www.sarahpalin-blog.com/2018/05/12/f-nra-democrat-launches-new-campaign-ad-targeting-gun-lobby/

His language alone should tell voters all they need to know, let alone his anti-2nd Amendment stance.
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Propaganda Networks - by John Stossel (a link)

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https://townhall.com/columnists/johnstossel/2018/05/12/propaganda-networks-n2479873
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Connecticut Calls Cops After Child makes Lego "Gun" (a link)

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http://www.foxnews.com/us/2018/05/11/connecticut-school-calls-police-after-student-makes-points-lego-gun-at-classmates.html

And they wonder why we want to keep the electoral college!
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Remember Whitewater? (from Facebook)

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WVH- I want you ALL to Read, Remember & Share This Post:
Remember Whitewater? 20 years ago James Comey as an attorney on the Senate Whitewater Investigation was looking into the conduct of President Bill Clinton and first lady Hillary Clinton.


The investigation was to determine whether Bill Clinton used his political position as governor of Arkansas (in the 1980s) to push through an illegal loan to benefit Bill and Hillary's business partner in Whitewater. Several people involved in Whitewater went to jail, but no criminal prosecution was in the cards for Bill and Hillary. Remember James Comey was the Deputy Special Counsel for the Whitewater investigation.

The pardon of billionaire Marc Rich (who traded illegally with America's enemies including Iran) by President Bill Clinton was something that everyone knew reeked of impropriety after learning that Rich's wife donated $450,000 to the Clinton Library. Again James Comey oversaw investigations of the pardon matters as well. Unbelievably James Comey did not recommend charging the Clintons in any of these matters. It's obvious why he protected Hillary! But democrats are blind.( Feel free to copy/paste - to educate the uneducated.)
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Mueller's Objective - by Mark Levine (a link)

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https://www.conservativecash.us/mark-levin-nails-muellers-purpose-remove-president/?utm_source=spn
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Explosive-Laden Antifa Terrorists Planned To Attack Trump Rally (a link)

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https://www.lawenforcementtoday.com/antifa-terrorists-armed-explosives-projectiles-arrested-portland-oregon-attempting-attack-trump-rally/
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Eco-Wasping (a link)

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http://www.medleyofworship.com/2018/05/opus-2018-119-firsts-eco-wasping.html
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Friday, May 11, 2018

OCD In the use Of Bolts And Washers

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Yes, Sometimes I've been known to comment on how out-of-level the pictures are hung in a waiting room. On a few occasions, I've even straightened them when no-one was looking. I guess that's why I hate to see washers off-center around a bolt head. It's generally on vertical surfaces where it's most noticeable and most consistent, as the "proper" washers have a larger hole than the bolt requires, so it drops downward a 16th of an inch. Now to NORMAL people, that wouldn't matter, but it just drives us OCD types crazy.

Like most older folks (at least the OCD sufferers), I learned a long time ago to simply get one washer size smaller than is normal. That means a 9/16 washer for a 5/8 bolt, a 3/8 washer for a 7/16 bolt and so on. Now this is only with flat washers; lock washers are made to fit tight to begin with. IF, for some reason, you need all the surface area of washer that you can get, you can always get fender washers. If I remember correctly, they fit tight like lock washers, with no slop.

I just thought I'd let you know. Copyright 2018
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Another Gun Maker Severs Ties With Dick's Sporting Goods (a link)

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http://www.guns.com/2018/05/09/more-gun-makers-break-ties-with-dicks-sporting-goods/?utm_campaign=trueAnthem%3A+Trending+Content&utm_content=5af3027919694a00068aa334&utm_medium=trueAnthem&utm_source=facebook
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Democrat Wants To Ban Archery In Schools (a link)

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https://www.sarahpalin-blog.com/2018/05/11/give-inch-theyll-take-mile-look-democrats-want-ban-archery-programs-schools/
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House GOP Calling For Audit Of Mueller's "Investigation" (a link)

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https://conservativedailypost.com/house-republicans-plan-mueller-audit-as-tens-of-millions-wasted/
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Kalifornia Judge Rules Against Self-Defense (a link)

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https://conservativedailypost.com/california-judges-quietly-remove-all-second-amendment-rights/
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London Becoming Murder Capitol Of The World And Muslim Mayor Bans Fast Food Ads (a link)

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https://www.hannity.com/media-room/liberal-priorities-london-mayor-bans-fast-food-ads-as-murder-rate-soars/

I don't think he cares about the murder rate because he knows most of the victims are "Infidels."
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GOP Wants McConnell To Get With The Program (a link)

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https://www.hannity.com/media-room/mitch-under-fire-gop-senators-demand-mcconnell-move-on-trumps-agenda/

If he doesn't get with it, he'll soon be as worthless as Sessions.
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Boy Scouts Paying Dearly For Their Political Correctness And Money Grab (a link)

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https://www.offthegridnews.com/radio/boy-scouts-lose-leading-sponsor-amidst-name-change-controversy/
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Farmers Fighting For The Right To Repair (a link)

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https://video.vice.com/en_us/video/motherboard-farmers-fighting-big-tech-right-to-repair-tractors/59a04cd18950d06e318a1c53
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Old Fairy Tales Being Made Politically Correct (a link)

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http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-5717265/UK-parents-change-fairytale-endings-politically-incorrect-Little-Red-Riding-Hood-Gingerbread-Man.html
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No WONDER North Korea Is Willing To Talk (a link)

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https://www.zerohedge.com/news/2018-05-10/second-seismologist-team-confirms-north-korean-nuke-site-has-collapsed
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Chapter 34


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Chapter 34



Nettie



Gertrude Antoinette Larson was definitely the proverbial spoiled youngest child. With the natural tendency of family members to give shortened versions of given names as nicknames, the child was probably thankful that her parents called her “Nettie.” After all, the alternative might have been “Gertie.” Even then she went through school having to explain to each new teacher or substitute that she didn’t go by her first name. As other kids got to know her all too well, they snickered loudly the first time the teacher would call out her name during roll call.
Psychologists tell us that parents are usually strictest with the firstborn child and then less so with each following child. Such was the case with Roose and Helena, for they were rather strict with Eve, and though less so with Clarence, while Nettie got away with murder. First, she was good at implicating her older siblings for the mischief she had committed. Second, she’d perfected “cute” little ways of resisting her parent’s authority. They unwittingly encouraged her behavior by laughing at her antics and allowing her to slide by without minding or doing her chores when she pulled her stunts. She never understood why her tricks didn’t work at school and why her siblings sometimes resented her.
Being five years younger than her sister, she didn’t remember being drug from farm to farm with the same irritation as did Eve. She was only 11 years old when her folks made their final move to the farm on Waddington Creek, where she grew up. She remembers fondly some of the other places she lived as a child, but she doesn’t remember them as well as her two siblings. Also, she thinks of Newport as home more than they do.
Nettie had naturally wavy hair, and like many little girls of the day, had been encouraged to look and act entirely too much like Shirley Temple. (No offense intended to Shirley Temple.) She picked up on the fact that some relatives thought she was cute, so she started thinking she was too! Other than that, there wasn’t anything unusual about her. She did keep herself neat and clean and made reasonably good grades in school. She never had a lot of friends, though, for understandable reasons.
One of the first indications of trouble brewing was when the family began to realize that her first cousin, George Eckelman, enjoyed her company entirely too much. The second indication was when it became clear that the feeling was mutual. Their spending of time together was discreetly discouraged by both sets of parents and time seemed to deal with the problem in a satisfactory manner.
Not long after Nettie graduated from high school, she started working at the local hospital and seemed to be doing well there. She got an apartment directly across the street from her office and became good friends with Beth, a girl with whom she worked. One day George stopped in to visit Nettie after many months asea on a Navy carrier and he seemed to “click” with Beth. They started dating and before long, things were looking serious.
One Monday afternoon Beth called Eve, wondering if she’d seen Nettie, for she hadn’t shown up at work that day. Of course all sorts of things go through a person’s mind when someone they love is missing. The phone in her apartment went unanswered, she didn’t answer when they knocked on her apartment door and none of her friends or relatives had seen her all weekend. That evening Beth called again, wondering if anyone had seen George, for he was supposed to be in on leave for a few days.
Eve had a very frightening and disgusting premonition. She contacted the owner of Nettie’s apartment and met him there. Inside, they found a note from Nettie explaining that she and George had eloped. Eve was so angry and disgusted that she could probably have strangled her sister had she been able to catch her. However, since murder wasn’t an option, she sat down and cried. She knew that Nettie was headed for a lifetime of trouble, but the dastardly deed was done and there was no turning back. When she called Beth and gave her the news, Beth was understandably crushed.
It’s not legal to marry your first cousin in West Virginia, nor in very many other states, so it was necessary for Nettie and George to go elsewhere to wed. They mistakenly thought that a nearby state would allow such things; thus they never even bothered to ask the preacher who married them if it mattered that they were first cousins. When they returned to Newport wearing wedding bands and mentioned where they were married, one of their relatives laughed and told them their marriage was invalid and that they were “living in sin.” They quickly made a few phone calls and found a state along the eastern seaboard that did allow first cousins to wed, They rushed there and came back married in the eyes of the law, if not in the eyes of the family.
Eve was the most offended by Nettie’s actions, for she knew Beth to be a decent, kind-hearted and loyal friend to her sister. She also knew how much Beth loved George and was heart-broken at the betrayal by her “best friend” and her beau. Eve felt that the only two reasons Nettie eloped with her cousin was to prove that she could take him from another woman and because she was suffering from the forbidden fruit syndrome. As for George, she had always thought that he was more than a few taters shy of a bushel anyway.
Nettie and George appeared to live quite happily for a few years, moving from place to place as the Navy transferred him. After 12 years of service, Nettie and his mother convinced him not to remain the additional eight years to earn a military retirement. They felt that it was time for George and Nettie to start a family and that military life is too unstable for children. The family thought the two were idiots to encourage him to throw his retirement away when he was only eight from qualifying and for even thinking about bringing inbred children into the world, but common sense was not to prevail.
They moved back to West Virginia and lived in Charleville for a few years. Being within visiting distance, the relatives saw enough of the couple’s interaction to notice that Nettie never had a kind word for George, even though he seemed to be a dutiful and dedicated husband. Her mother warned her that trouble would come if she didn’t learn to show her husband a little kindness and respect. Their son was two years old when Nettie discovered that George had recently started having an affair with his first cousin’s wife. Nettie insisted that she and George leave that area and return to Newport.
During a period of financial distress, Nettie’s parents had sold the land across the highway to her aunt and uncle (George’s parents). Between Roose’s need of funds, his ignorance of then-current land prices, and his refusal to take advice from other family members, he sold the land for 15% of market value. His sister wrote him a check so fast that it made his head spin. They then built their retirement home across the road from Roose and Helena and moved in, selling their old home in central Ohio.
Against his father’s wishes, George’s mother promised him a little piece of creek bottom at the upper end of their property, most of which flooded several times a year. There was just room enough for George and Nettie to put in a driveway and a mobile home on the edge of the lot nearest the highway, which was above flood level. George soon had a good job at a local plant and three years later, when their daughter was born, the trailer was already paid off.
George was trying to make amends for his earlier philandering. He spent his evenings with his wife and children and gave most of his paycheck to Nettie to manage, keeping back only enough for food and gasoline for himself. She kept the stubs for tax records, so there was never any doubt about his earnings. Still, Nettie had no intentions of ever letting the poor man lead a bearable life, and it was noticeable to others that she made his life a living hell. Even his attempted suicide wasn’t enough to get her to cut him any slack.
It wasn’t as if she was the perfect wife in any way; relatives tell of dropping by and Nettie clearing trash and junk off the furniture to have a place for them to sit. Others said that they had seen her trailer when the only place the carpeting could be seen peeking through the newspapers, magazines and clothing on the floor was a tiny spot at the front door. Also, she was a great believer in “one-pot meals.” If she made macaroni and cheese, that was it for the day. If it was broccoli, George and the kids had better eat it, for there wouldn’t be any other choice until the following day. When she told an elderly neighbor that she didn’t use any kind of seasoning in her cooking, he told her, “You’ll find yerself a walkin’ down the road alone someday!” The old man was no false prophet.
George never complained of his treatment nor defended himself as Nettie constantly belittled him to others in his hearing. He didn’t say a word back to her, or a word about her; he just kept his mouth shut and bore the abuse. One neighbor remarked that he’d never laid a hand on his own wife in 45 years of marriage, but that every time he was around Nettie, he felt like slapping her “up ‘long the side of the head” for the way she treated her husband.
He needn’t have worried; George solved the problem by going to work one day and never coming back. As near as Nettie could figure, he only had $200 on him, yet he seemed to disappear from the face of the earth. He had left her with enough money in the bank for her and the kids to live on for a few months, but Nettie was suddenly wondering how she could support her children. Not a person, besides Nettie, blamed him for leaving her, but they did blame him for deserting his children.
It was an education in the workings of bureaucracy to follow Nettie’s efforts to gain help for herself and her two small children. At first, she had too much money in the bank, even though it was actually very little. Then, it was because she owned property. The problem was that she was only half owner with her husband but couldn’t dispose of it in any way due to his half ownership, and of course, no one knew where to reach him.
Eventually, she was able to get a little help, but not enough for the three of them to live on. Were it not for the huge vegetable gardens of her parents, along with a few dollars from their meager social security checks on occasion, she and the children would have gone hungry. Had George died rather than left the scene, she would have gotten enough government funds to support the kids and her until the youngest was 18. The irony was that about two miles up the road were two families who were raising their fourth generation on welfare and food stamps. In time, Nettie found a job and their plight eased somewhat.
Nettie’s situation wasn’t helped by the fact that both of her children had a few medical problems, worsened by a double dose of some genes. The boy was even labeled retarded at first until the doctors discovered that the opposite was actually the case. While he was above average in intelligence, he did suffer from mild autism.
One bit of idiocy which contributed to the boy’s slow start at talking was that Nettie encouraged him to “clap his hands and point” when he wanted anything. In essence, she was actively discouraging him from learning to speak. An older cousin found him one day, carrying on a fairly normal-sounding conversation with the piano, probably the only thing in the home that would keep quiet long enough to let him speak.
Due to the boy’s first diagnosis and his slow start at speaking, Nettie enunciated every word to the extreme. It was irritating to try carrying on a conversation with her in the children’s presence due to her “accent” and her deliberate rate of speech, so some folks got to where they didn’t bother. While she may have thought that she was doing her kids a favor, the first thing other children would ask their parents after meeting them was, “Why do they talk like that?” Also, due to their strange way of speaking, both children required remedial speech classes.
Other than teaching them to hate their father, Nettie never intentionally did them any harm. However, she had little in the way of common sense, good manners or consideration for others, so it was only natural that her children should have no social graces of their own. Especially during their teen years, it had to have been hard on them, being outcasts and never knowing why. The boy never did learn, the girl finally gained some understanding on her own as she got older.
It was after her husband deserted her that folks truly began to learn what an active and vicious gossip Nettie was. In conjunction with Pansy Anderson, the local “Cat Lady,” a neighbor woman from up the road and a couple fine upstanding ladies of the Forty Furlong Baptist Church, Nettie kept a flow of chatter over the phone lines that should have reduced the insulation of the wires to ash. Many a troubled soul was sent to Hell long before its time in the minds of those paragons of virtue.
Gossip is usually the result of low self-esteem and the attempt of the person to make his or her self look better by making others look worse. It can also be due to plain old jealousy, or the combination of jealousy and low self-esteem. Regardless of the reasons the little circle chose its hobby, their own reputations were at least partly destroyed in the process. Some folks even fed them false information just for the fun of it, and to see their expressions when they found that they’d made fools of themselves. One younger fellow in the community even experimented with feeding information to only one source at a time to see where and when it would turn up. He could eventually predict when each member in the circle would know about something within a two hour time frame. Not surprisingly, most of Nettie’s own relatives quit telling her anything, and some even quit coming to family functions if they knew she would be present.
After a few years, state law allowed Nettie to get what was called a “publication divorce.” It amounted to having the local paper print the statement that the absent party had a certain amount of time to respond to a suit for divorce, and that if there was no response by that date, the divorce would be granted by law. There was no response, so the court granted her divorce. As a single mother, she then qualified for more help from the government.
Just after both kids had reached adulthood, Nettie learned that George was living not far from the city in Ohio where he’d been raised. A little investigating showed that he had wed another woman only a few months after their divorce was granted. That led her to believe that he had been keeping tabs on the family he’d deserted. She eventually found his phone number and one day when her kids were both home, she gave him a call. He was extremely surprised, but after a few awkward moments, George, Nettie and the kids had a reasonably polite conversation.
The son wanted to see the father he had once idolized, the daughter had learned her lessons well and hated his guts, Nettie herself was unusually pleasant with the man whom she had spent years bad-mouthing. No decisions were made that first day, but other conversations followed and the day finally arrived when she and the kids met him at some neutral spot in Ohio.
What happened then was almost too strange to believe. Apparently, George still had some perverse obsession with the cousin that he had married and then deserted. Nettie, too, seemed overly willing to renew their acquaintance. Within a few months, Nettie had managed to destroy his second marriage and was considering his offer to get back together. Other than a wicked desire for revenge or, once again, just to prove that she could steal him from another women, no one could figure out why she chose to wreck his second marriage. Only matters too hurtful to other family members to be discussed kept the reunion from occurring.
Not long afterward, Nettie lost her job to downsizing, so with the kids grown and no government money coming in, Nettie was again struggling financially. Her parents were dead by that time. The daughter, who to her credit had worked her way through college, eventually met a nice western fellow online, moved west, married him and soon had a son. Nettie’s boy finally got a job and began contributing sporadically to paying the expenses.
Her siblings, Eve and Clarence, began to get peeved with her because she made little effort to look for work. Still, they didn’t want their sister to become destitute, so they deeded their interest in a gas well from their father’s estate to Nettie so she could have at least a little income. It didn’t pay much, but it was just about enough to keep her in groceries. They learned the method to her madness when she began to collect disability for “severe disabilitating arthritis.” Suddenly, she was living better than her sister and has ever since.
Nettie had one last fling before she reached retirement age, this time with a non-relative. An old acquaintance blew into town, reporting his divorce from his wife of many years. He was good-looking, charming and well-to-do. She tried pretty hard to make herself as alluring as possible by looks and action. Some folks thought that she might even have been in love with the guy. Though he wined her, dined her and led her on for some months, she ended up losing out to a younger woman with a good-paying job. Isn’t it amazing how attractive a bit of money can make a person? She seemed deeply hurt by the loss. A few folks wondered if the whole thing wasn’t life’s way of evening the score for what she’d done to her friend, Beth, many years ago or even for wrecking her ex-husband’s second marriage. Who can say?
Nettie rarely gets the offers that she once did to join other family members for Sunday or holiday dinners. That mostly ended when she began broadcasting personal information about family members on the internet. She still sees some of them once a year at a family reunion, but some won’t say a word if she’s within earshot. She does occasionally talk to her daughter by phone or E-mail, often about the grandson born with the genetic disorders common to the side of the family from which came the double set of genes.
With her children raised and her parents gone, she has more time on her hands than ever, yet the carpet still can’t be seen for the clutter on the floor, and she still has to unload any piece of furniture she wants to use. While her middle-age son is off at work or in his room playing video games, Nettie now sits in her dilapidated trailer, gossiping on the phone to the few people who continue to listen, or writing snoop-and-tell E-mails for folks who would rather not receive them in the first place.
Copyright 2008
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Thursday, May 10, 2018

Pollen And Other Things


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It's the yellow time of year now on Tick Ridge. Everything outside has a dusty yellow cast. The pines, the oaks and who knows what else are dropping pollen like nobody's business. Of a morning, my truck looks more mustard than burgundy (or salsa red, as the paperwork shows). If I drive it anywhere, most of the pollen blows off, sometimes looking like the wind-tunnel demonstrations where the smoke blows up and over the windshield in the process.

When I took the pooch out about midnight, the falling pollen in the flashlight beam looked like the clouds above were dropping a mist on us. This morning, just before daylight, we sat on the porch a while and I noticed my eyes were a bit scratchy and the pooch sneezed a few times. She decided to go inside just a couple minutes before I heard the first rumble of thunder. Maybe she heard it before I did and wanted to get back into “the cave.” I stayed up with her nearly a couple hours, since she does better if “the big dog” is there to “protect” her.

We went out at 10AM but didn't stay. About 1PM, we went out again and stayed on the porch a while. Eventually, thunder began rumbling in the northwest and she decided to go back inside. It didn't amount to anything, though. It never got any closer and we never even got a sprinkle out of it.

I could see the pollen on the concrete floor of the side porch when we sat there, so it was no wonder the dog sneezed a little. She can never resist sniffing the concrete to see if any other critters have been there recently. I noticed our neatnic neighbor power-washing the pollen off his house yesterday. I'm not sure what he was hoping to accomplish; maybe it just made him feel like he was doing something. The pollen was even worse today than then.

I just got back from the basement checking on the sizes of the bolt holes in a small wood-working vise I got in Amish country a year or two ago. I'm going to set it up to file saw chains and need to put it on a frame that will fit in the homemade wooden vise on my workbench, or clamp (with C-clamps) to some other surface, like a table or porch edge. It looks like all the lags screws and such that I have are a little small, so a visit to the hardware store is in order. Do doubt the missus will howl at me spending any money and her having to wait, but I'm sure she'll survive. Copyright 2018
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Wednesday, May 9, 2018

Bad Manners, Foreign Junk And Wild Greens


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No, there's no connection between those subjects, except that I dealt with all today. The missus wanted to get her hair cut, so we ended up in the Chinamart upstream and across the river in the neighboring state. While there, I was noticing how many people seem to have been raised by wolves. Actually, that's an unfair burden to lay on wolves, when something more devilish is actually to blame. And, just to be fair, I see such behavior everywhere.

I've mentioned before how people block aisles constantly, sometimes as groups and sometimes as individuals. There's very rarely a need to do so, they just seem to think the world was created solely for them. Then there are those who insist on going down the aisle against the traffic flow by walking on the opposite side. Then, you have the “fast freight” folks who barrel out of side aisles and around aisle ends at 90 miles an hour without ever thinking that someone else might be in the neighborhood. Today, I was noticing how few people respond when you say “excuse me.” Many ignore you, while some just stare at you. Some step back without speaking, some don't move at all, and some move but glare at you as if you're the spawn of the devil. A few actually are pleasant and responsive, but not many, and age has absolutely nothing to do with it, old folks seem just as rude anymore as the young.

While looking at their adjustable wrenches, I noticed that Stanley and Crescent, two one-time American companies, have all their stuff made in China these days, as does Vise-Grip. Only Channel-Lock proudly bragged that they were made in America. I try my best to buy only American made, but it keeps getting harder, unless you run into some older tools at yard sales.

After the news this evening, I sat on the porch with the pooch a few minutes, but the neighbor was running his weed-whacker, so I heard few birds. After the dog chose to go back inside, I picked some wild greens that were growing around the house. I picked mostly chicory, but also a little dandelion and violets. I put them in a Walmart bag in the fridge to cook tomorrow. I'm afraid they may be a little tough and bitter, as I suspect they should have been picked last week. I guess I'll know tomorrow. Copyright 2018
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Tuesday, May 8, 2018

Trash Day, Election Day, Wasted Day


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As is normal, I took the trash out at mid-morning, rather than the night before or the crack of dawn. I'm lucky that the trucks use this as one of their routes to the landfill and pick up my trash pretty much whenever I put it out. I'd planned on dropping down in the valley to my voting spot afterward, but the missus decided that she wanted to ride along and then go to Chinamart. I told her that the extra time for me to vote might keep her from finding a rider at the store, so we left for town as soon as the trash was put out and the pooch taken out.

Once at the store, she couldn't find a rider at the entrance she used, but I found us both one at the other door. I picked up a couple cases of water (It takes us 4 cases a week @$4), then wandered around looking for anything of interest. I plugged my rider in while I used the restroom and it was almost up to full charge when I returned, so I sat there a few minutes and let it finish.

Today, I put a small stainless teapot and a machete on my “buy when I have the money” list in the little notebook that I carry in my pocket. The stainless teapot would work well either on the stove, a rocket stove or a small cooking fire. I call the notebook my “brain,” as my memory isn't always the best. Looking in my brain, I realized that I needed to make an appointment with my heart doctor and did so (his # is in there, too). I wasn't at the magazine section long enough to finish my article when the missus showed up and was ready to leave.

The news-casters and voting officials said since it was a small ballot and voting was expected to be light, it should be an “in-and-out” experience at the polls today. I didn't get there until 12:30, though, so the lunch crowd was there and it took me about 30 minutes to get finished, not the 10 or less predicted. The missus was waiting impatiently in the truck the whole time. This is the first time an ID has been required here and the old lady checking the ID’s was slower than cold molasses. They STILL don't require a PHOTO ID, which I think is foolish, considering how dishonest the democrats are.

After taking my afternoon nap, I just didn't seem to have the energy to do anything industrious, so I went online. I was thinking maybe I'd get something done tomorrow, but the missus has already informed me that she wants to go to the Chinamart over in enemy territory that day and get her hair done. Things don't look good for tomorrow! I guess I'll have to decide whether to look around Lowe's next door or nap in the truck while she's getting clipped. Decisions, decisions! Copyright 2018
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Monday, May 7, 2018

More Yard Time


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I went out this evening and puttered around at the base of the white oak in my front yard “woodyard.” I've got a little circle of stones a couple feet out around the trunk, with a wild-looking five foot holly tree on the lower side and a small clump of yarrow on the upper side. Unfortunately, I've been ignoring the area and some ash sprouts came up in the lower side. I wasn't able to pull them up, but all but one were able to be cut off with hand clippers. The largest required a pruning saw. I then trimmed a few lower limbs off the holly to better show what a fine crop of poison ivy is getting started there. As much as I dislike using the stuff, I'll zap the ivy with roundup, in hopes of killing the roots. Lastly, I used the leaf rake to take things down to bare soil.

The main reason for my efforts are a couple stalks of wintercress (wild mustard) in bloom at the very edge of the stone ring on the lower side. I'm hoping it will seed the bare soil and I'll have a small crop of greens there early next spring. There's no need to transplant wintercress, as it's an annual and has to be reseeded. I've always wanted to get some established somewhere close, where I could keep an eye on it, but this sort of fell into my lap, so to speak.

After my little task was completed, I took the pooch out and then sat on the porch with her a few minutes. I made a little more effort to train the mockingbird, but it's making no effort to copy me yet. I DID hear a gobbler sounding off far to the east northeast just after sundown. It seemed a little late for that, and I had to wonder if it was a gobbler in the mood for a little evening romance or a hunter trying to “roost” a gobbler (locate him on the roost for the morning hunt). If the former, the old boy was serious about his job. If the latter, the guy was overplaying his hand a bit. Oh well, none of my business. Copyright 2018
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Porch Sitting, Pretending To Work And Discovering My Life's Opus


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Not having slept well for two nights, I took a long nap after we returned from getting a sticker on my wife's car and an oil change for my truck. On awakening, I figured the pooch would need to pee, so I took her out. After a surprisingly short drain, we returned to our stations on the porch. It was a good day for birdsong and I was well entertained. I heard a vain cardinal singing “pretty boy” somewhere nearby. Wrens and a woodpecker added their calls, as well as several birds that I can't identify. A bluejay landed nearby a couple times, but was uncharacteristically quiet. The mockingbird that seems to always nest near the front of the lawn was in fine form, barely finishing one imitation before moving to the next.

Movement and the color red caught my eye through an opening in the woods at 1:30 (direction, not time). At first, I thought it was a male cardinal, as I could still hear one in that direction gloating over his handsomeness, but this bird seemed brighter than normal. The thought crossed my mind that it could be a scarlet tanager, but I'd never seen one at this location in the 38 years I've lived here. Then the bird flew a path, just inside the woods, that took it by me at 50 feet and landed about 75 feet away. That's when I got a good enough look to KNOW it was a tanager. Cardinals are a beautiful red, but scarlet tanagers look almost fluorescent. The females are yellow with the same black wings. Wouldn't it be nice if a pair would nest nearby?

Soon after, one of the resident mockingbirds landed not 20 feet away and began hunting in the side yard before me. I whistled “shave and a haircut, two bits,” perhaps a little too loudly and it flew off, as it had done yesterday when I whistled the old jingle.

A carpenter bee came around, looking for an unpainted section of porch rafter (there are a few) in which to bore its holes. I took the waiting tennis racket off the wall behind the swing, stalked the bee a couple minutes and then lowered the boom. The dog seemed troubled by the murder and decided that she wanted to go inside. Actually, it was probably the bee itself that troubled her as she got two bad stings from a wasp last year and now barks when one gets in the house.

I stayed outside and puttered in the lawn a little, picking up tree limbs and dragging them over the brink of the hill to a rabbit condo (brush pile). I need to get the lawn ready to mow, since it's past due for its second mowing of the year (its first one was a hot day in January). I also tossed the firewood I'd cut to length the other day uphill to the wood-rack, though it took two tosses each piece to get it there. I learned long ago that's it's easier to move small pieces of wood by tossing rather than carrying, especially over uneven ground. There wasn't much work involved, but it sure took this old geezer long enough, with all the breaks I had to take.

I returning to the porch swing after the job was done and noticed that the tanager was hanging around in the woods behind the house, so maybe I'll get my wish. The mockingbird came back and began hunting again. It knows I'm there, but unless I move too fast, it seems to know that I mean it no harm. Softer this time, I began whistling the old jingle again and it didn't spook, though it sometimes seemed to stop and listen a second. With seven notes, I'll be surprised if it ever learns it completely, but I've decided that the effort is going to be my life's work. Just imagine a century from now when ornithologists across the nation say, “We always wondered if the mockingbird had its own song, and it appears that it does. What we don't know is whether that song was learned from some ornery old-time curmudgeon, or if the originator of “Shave and a Haircut” patterned his jingle after the mockingbird's song.” And there's your bull-pucky for the day! Copyright 2018
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Saturday, May 5, 2018

Godly Reminder Received This Sabbath


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I spent a lot of my younger days accumulating “stuff.” Most wasn't valuable, much of it was old tools and things used by my ancestors. Other things were guns, camping gear and fishing gear. My first parting with something I'd rather have kept was selling my horse to help keep my first wife in the manor to which she hoped to become accustomed. The second time was my guns, for the same reason with my second wife. Had I remained single, I'm sure I would have retained all my stuff, but maybe God was trying to tell me something.

In my youth, I'd always assumed I'd have the typical 2.3 children and would school them in all the tools and usages of my collection, thus helping to preserve ancient knowledge and skills for another generation. That changed when I married the second time, as she could have no more children than the boy she had. So, I began looking for other young people with interests in such things. They are a rare breed, though. And the only two I ever found were somewhat of a disappointment.

Along the way, bouts of poverty caused me first to sell all duplicates of things I owned to put food on the table. It seemed that even when I had what many would have considered an excellent income, spending always outpaced income; I won't go into why. Eventually, company closings and extended unemployment caused me to start prioritizing my stuff and selling those things that I could live without.

Along the way, it became apparent that I really did have too much stuff, so, I continued selling what I could, in part because I knew that anything someone paid money for, they would tend to care for better. A few things, I gave away to people who I KNEW would appreciate them. Some things of soley sentimental value to me alone, I literally threw in the trash, knowing I'd always have the memory that went each item. My stuff is now confined to a few things in my office, a few things in my bedroom and a still fairly decent tool selection in the basement. I can find little else to part with.

As it turns out, I was reminded of all this last night while reading the 45th chapter of Genesis. That's where Joseph tells his family to move to Egypt, where he can protect them from the effects of seven years of drought. The pharaoh gets wind of it and sends wagons with Joseph’s brother's with these words from Verse 20, “Also regard not your stuff; for the good of all the land of Egypt is yours.

I could be wrong, but I took that as a message from the Lord telling me not to worry about my “stuff,” because there would be far better things in Heaven when that day comes. Yes, the verse was to be taken as history, but the Bible is the “Living Word,” speaking to each one of us in our time. Sometimes, I need a good reminder. Copyright 2018
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It's All Part Of The Plan


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Those words are often my reply when some bit of social or legislative insanity becomes known and is the object of near disbelief by many. And, being a literalist most of the time, I'm dead serious when I say it.

I remember back in the '60's when the John Birch Society was saying that there were plans afoot to take us all back to the medieval days of serf and lord of the manner. Since the JBS WAS a half-baked lot, no-one took them seriously, but they were dead right. No, George Washington was NOT a communist, as they seemed to think, but the group or groups they warned us of had already been referred to by Eisenhower as the “military/industrial complex.

These days, informed people refer to them as the Illuminati, the Bilderbergs, the Tri-Lateral Commission, the UN, the European Union, the deep state, Antifa, the Democratic Party and perhaps a few other names. Their existence is real, and their plan is exactly what the John Birch Society warned - the virtual enslavement of the world's population for the benefit of the upper few percent.

Many methods are in play to accomplish that, muslim and illegal immigration, removing prayer from the schools, the Ten Commandments from our public places, the NON-teaching of history and civics in schools and the liberal brain-washing that has existed there for 45+ years. Also, they're using “equal rights” rulings, feminism, gun control, ever expanding regulation of each aspect of our lives, the utter castration of the male of the species, the destruction of the family through laws, regulation and court rulings, and the limiting of religion and its free expression, EVEN INSIDE THE CHURCH BUILDING! Abortion and euthanasia are two more of their tools, as is the encouragement of homosexuality and shacking up, rather than marriage.

Evil is called good and good is called evil. Personally, I believe that is the unforeseeable sin against the Holy Spirit, as it calls God evil and Satan good.

The latest thing we've seen is the Boy Scouts accepting girls and even changing their name to do so. Now, I quit supporting the Boy Scouts when they decided it was okay to turn young, impressionable boys loose with queer scout-masters, and I quit supporting the Girl Scouts when they handed out Planned Parenthood pamphlets at one of their national meetings a few years ago (which they try to deny to this day).

The Scouts have sold their souls for the money of an expanded membership. That's no different than the thousands of modern preachers who preach for the offering plate, rather than lost souls. Some say that this latest move will ultimately destroy the Boy Scouts and I believe they're probably right. But I believe that was the plan all along, for it will be the death of one more bit of moral Americana that helped build moral and intellectual strength for the population.

Moral strength and intelligence of the masses scare the daylights out of elitists who plan on enslaving us, so all things that build character and intelligence must be destroyed. The Boy Scouts has now been destroyed, so the elites are one step closer to enslaving us. Copyright 2018
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