Saturday, February 18, 2017

Memes

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Just for the record, impeachment is only an accusation (indictment), not a conviction.
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101 Years Ago Today

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...my granddad at Meadville, West Virginia, sent this to my grandma at Parkersburg, W.Va. Incidentally, Meadevill is is just BARELY outside of present-day Parkersburg.
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A So-So Sabbath

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The missus wasn’t feeling well today, so we ate lunch late and didn’t head for Chinamart until almost time for the shows to start that I like to watch on Saturday. She wanted to take the Mighty Dachshund, since she got a bad sting the other day when we left her at home. She swelled up on the chest and around her eyes and ears and threw up her lunch after a while. My wife finally gave her a Benadryl and she started slowly getting better, but she still didn’t eat for two days. She seems okay now.

Taking the pooch along meant that I couldn’t go in and get the 5” paint brush I wanted, though. She wouldn’t eat the cheeseburger we got her, so I tried combing her out some. Unfortunately, the guy who parked next to me parked on the line and I had to work in a twist to comb her there on the back seat, so I soon gave it up.
I did get started in my next “little brown book” while waiting for the missus. This one is Hawthorne’s “Grandfather’s Chair.” I don’t know what the printing date was, but it has a 1904 copyright, and was a gift from a neighbor boy to my maternal granddad’s sister as a Christmas gift in 1923. My granddad would eventually marry that boy’s sister, so I knew the guy as my great uncle. The book is basically written at a 6th to 9th grade level, so it should be just right for my underwhelming intellect. I must say that I enjoyed the first couple chapters. There’s a lot of history in it.

After getting home, I put a tarp over my sawmill frame, since rain’s a-comin’. I weighted the tarp down so it wouldn’t blow off, but the tarp covering the lawn mower had already blown off and I didn’t bother to recover it. I also poured the remaining half-gallon of used motor oil from a plastic jug into a similar amount of creosote, so I’d have something to paint on the sawmill frame. Those things were as close as I came to work this Sabbath day. Incidentally, the frame is made from some of the newer, “safer” pressure-treated wood and it’s trying to rot after only two years. Worthless crap! I may just start using oak, since it might actually last longer.

I wish I could find a reasonable Sabbath-meeting church, but the closest one I know is an hour’s drive away. I’d be all for a legitimate keeping of the Sabbath (including no cooking and no conducting business or shopping), but my wife still leans heavily toward the false doctrine begun by Pope Sylvester and Emperor Constantine in the fourth century and perpetuated by a semi-apostate church ever since. It’s nothing that will send us to hell, I believe, but I think most Christians are losing blessings by teaching that it’s okay to break one of the Ten Commandments. We don’t have good enough clothes to go anyway; God may not care, but PEOPLE DO, no matter what they say.

The missus still isn’t up to snuff tonight, but we’ll probably go back to Chinamart tomorrow and get what she didn’t have energy enough to get today. It’s raining here as I finish this, but it’s supposed to stop in the night. Maybe I can get a few more pieces of wood split tomorrow, like I did yesterday. I guess only time will tell. © 2017
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On West Virginia "Jokes" (a link)

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http://appalachianmagazine.com/2017/02/18/before-you-make-that-next-west-virginia-joke-consider-these-facts/
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Thursday, February 16, 2017

103 Years Ago Today

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...my great grandma, visiting relatives at Petroleum, West Virginia, sent this card to my granddad at Parkersburg, W.Va.
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105 Years Ago Today

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... my granddad at Dial, West Virginia, sent these two cards to my grandma at Parkersburg, W.Va. I don't have the cards before me, but I'm supposing that he had more to tell her than would fit on one card.
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110 Years Ago Today

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... "Dave" at Pennsboro, West Virginia, sent this card to my yet unmarried grandma at Red Hill, W.Va. (Parkersburg). I don't know if Dave was an admirer, or just one of her many cousins from up that way.
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CIA Caught With Their Pants Down (a link)

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http://www.thegatewaypundit.com/2017/02/wikileaks-exposes-cia-interference-french-presidential-elections-president-obama/
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Crystal Needs A Hobby (or maybe she HAS one)! See Her Latest Book! (a link)

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https://crystalmarylindsey.blogspot.com/2017/02/surprising-story.html
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Wednesday, February 15, 2017

AMEN!

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Daniel Webster's Quote On "Good Intentions" (a link)

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http://dailytimewaster.blogspot.com/2017/02/something-to-keep-in-mind.html
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108 Years Ago Today

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...my great grandma at Parkersburg, West Virginia, sent my granddad, working at Griffithsville, W.Va., a Christmas card (I'm assuming it was the only card she had on hand). My grandma sent him the second card, rather appropriate for a new bride of about one month.
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110 Years Ago Today

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..."Lee Mc." at Kanawha Station, West Virginia, sent this to my yet unmarried granddad at Valley Mills, W.Va.
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Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Six Ways To Avoid FEMA Camp (a link)

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http://www.trueprepper.com/article/6-ways-avoid-herded-fema-camp/
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Homemade Wood Cutter (video link)

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You might want to move the "button" to get past the commercial.

http://awm.com/he-didnt-have-enough-money-to-buy-one-so-he-gets-creative-and-builds-his-own-video/?utm_medium=partners&utm_source=shtf_dad
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Russian Comedian Toys With Maxine Waters? (a link)

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I can't vouch for this, so take it for what it's worth.

http://www.theamericanmirror.com/listen-russian-comedian-prank-calls-maxine-waters-poses-ukraine-pm/
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The Plan To Destroy Trump (a link)

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http://www.breitbart.com/big-government/2017/02/14/lefts-alinsky-plan-destroy-trump-administration/?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=social
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105 Years Ago Today

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...my grandma at Parkersburg, West Virginia, sent the first card to my granddad, working at Blue Creek, W.Va., while his mother, also at Parkersburg, sent him the second card.
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109 Years Ago Today

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...Ransom Rothwell, working at Huntington, West Virginia, sent the first card to my yet unmarried grandma at Parkersburg, W.Va., while "L.R." at Kanawha Station, W.Va., sent the second card to my granddad at Griffithsville, W.Va.
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60 Minutes Meets Peaceful "Swedish" muslims (a link)

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http://washingtonfeed.com/watch-60-minutes-wanted-to-prove-muslim-refugees-peaceful-blows-up-in-their-face.html
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Someone Should Sell HIM (a link)

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http://www.frontpagemag.com/point/265783/its-not-immoral-one-human-own-another-human-daniel-greenfield#.WKDSEOLVmOs.facebook
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Monday, February 13, 2017

Down Home (w/pic)

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This photo is of the house where my paternal grandparents lived the last three-plus decades of their lives. It was taken just a little before my time, as I don’t remember the bee hives at the right edge of the photo (property of a neighbor), while I DO remember a small coal/wood shed at the back corner of the house that isn’t in this picture, as well as a small deck that replaced the front porch that’s missing in this image. If I were to guess a date, I’d say between 1950 and 1958.

This house sat on the same farm where I was raised, except down in the valley (across from present-day Mustang Acres) whereas I grew up in a similar-looking farmhouse less than a quarter-mile away on the hill above this house. Dad was born in and lived in the house on the hill the first four years of his life, until the family moved to this house, because it had running water. He lived there until about a year after he and Mom were married, when the two of them moved to the house on the hill. Dad lived there until his untimely death 35 years later. He always referred to the place where I was raised as “up home,” and this place as “down home.”

The house was built in 1883 by a farmer named Bailey. My granddad bought the place somewhere between 1910 and 1919. (He bought the farm in three pieces and I don’t remember the order.) The family moved there in 1929. Before that, my great grandparents, either together or singly, lived there sometimes, as did one of his brothers and various friends and in-laws.

The brown (unpainted) building you see to the right of the house was built at some point, in part, to hold a store in the front room of the ground level. The milk house was in the downstairs and my great grandfather lived in the upstairs until he passed away in 1927.

My great grandmother, who was anything but charming to the gentle old man, lived in the wash house which you see in the center of the photo. She often visited her other kids for months at a time, though, so the family was always glad to see her come and glad to see her go. The shed that you see blocking the view of the wash house was simply a shed over the gas meter, but appears large enough that it may have been used some for tool, or wood and coal storage. It had been replaced by a much smaller shed by the time I came along. 

The family cellar was beneath the wash house and the well was just in front of the wash house. The running water in the house and milk house came from a spring and cistern farther up the hill, though.
The back corner of the house that you see was a sun porch, which was originally just a back porch, but which Granddad enclosed to get a little extra indoor space for his brood. He put a gas heater in it and they used it even in winter.

If you look closely, you’ll see a truck in the driveway between the meter shed and the wash house. I believe that was Dad’s 1950 GMC. The barn is just out of view to the right of the photo. This photo shows the old place mostly as I remember it, but not completely. I have a lot of good memories from the old place. © 2017
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Respect

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From a lady on Facebook - "It's simple , if you want respect, act respectable."
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"Saving Money"

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While my wife was looking through the big craft store today, I went over to Rural King to pick up a couple things I needed. While there, I was viciously attacked by a BAD case of the back-house two-step. While in the process of dealing with that problem, the missus called and said that she was ready for me to pick her up at the craft shop. I explained my situation and told her I'd try to hurry.

When I finished the required paperwork, I took my buggy to the check out. There was only one register open, but there were only a couple people there, so I waited. THEN, the card machine had some kind of problem processing their credit card. A couple minutes later, the problem seemed no closer to being solved, so I left my buggy, with it's three items, and headed off to pick up my wife.

No doubt, the manager though that he/she was saving money by only having one register open, but they lost a $30 sale on account of it. I've seen a lot of other folks over the years do the same thing, so you KNOW they aren't REALLY saving money by being such tightwads. I'm sure their workers get only minimum wage. Oh well, there's another store that I'm near more often anyway; I guess I'll spend my money THERE. © 2017
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The California Confederacy (a link)

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http://bayourenaissanceman.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-californian-confederacy.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+BayouRenaissanceMan+%28Bayou+Renaissance+Man%29
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EARLY Torpedo Bomber (a link)

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http://dailytimewaster.blogspot.com/2017/02/early-torpedo-bomber.html
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Sunday, February 12, 2017

Lincoln And Local Weather (Not Connected - LOL)

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For those who remember the days before the government took away Lincoln and Washington's birthdays so they could give us Martin Luther King Day, or even know who they were, Abraham Lincoln was born this day in 1809. Like Washington (and I think Trump), I believe that he was sent by Almighty God to get our nation through a difficult time.

It's currently 43F here and the computer weather says the wind is 16 mph. It's gusting a lot faster than that, though. It sort of makes me wish I had a wind turbine. I assume it's blowing something up, but the weatherman says nothing tonight or tomorrow, at least.
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Sunday Memes

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110 Years Ago Today

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..."Fatty The Dutchman" at Kanawha Station, West Virginia, sent this to my yet unmarried granddad at Parkersburg, W.Va. Judging from the card and the handwriting, I'm pretty sure that "Fatty" was a female. - LOL
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Hungarian Prime Minister's Warning About SOROS (a link)

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http://redstatewatcher.com/article.asp?id=62758
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Fort Ontario Launches History and Archaeology Conference (a link)

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A Woodsrunner's Diary: Fort Ontario Launches History and Archaeology Conference.
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Grave Concerns (a link)

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Perpetual Proverbs: Grave Concerns
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Liberal Karma (a link)

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http://madworldnews.com/liberals-home-muslim-refugees/
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Saturday, February 11, 2017

Australia - Firearms Inspections By Police in your Home (a link)

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A Woodsrunner's Diary: Australian Survival and Preppers..: Firearms Inspections By Police in your Home. Your ...
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That And This

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It never got up to 41 yesterday as they predicted here, only to 30, so we kept our snow. It started warming in the night, though, and by morning, most of our paltry two inches was gone, due to the 40 degree temperature. When we went to town, though, snow still lay in the valley and in town. It soon got up to 60 and in a couple hours, thoseareas, too, were clear of the white stuff. Have I mentioned how much I love the color brown?

When we got back, the first Woodwright Shop wasn’t anything I wanted to watch, so I set the alarm for an hour later and took a nap. I remember shutting off the alarm when it rang, but not what the second show was about. Half an hour later, I woke up and went downstairs, where my wife told me what the show had been. It wasn’t anything I would have watched anyway, so it’s just as well I got that extra half-hour.

We went out again later and I was tooling along at 30mph in a three-lane, one-way 40mph zone when a ratty-looking pickup pulled along my side and the young male passenger motioned for me to roll the window down. I just ignored him and drove on, figuring he was just going to cuss me for holding him up. They turned off a block down the street, making me think I was right. A lot of guys are brave when they know they’re going to turn off the road soon.

My wife, however, became convinced that he was trying to tell me that my tail-lights weren’t working and demanded that I head for home. When I finally got a place to pull over, I checked and my lights were fine, meaning that my original thoughts about the young hooligan were probably correct.

She then wanted me to turn around and head back towards her son’s house, just so she could drive by. She’d already had me take her by her old home place on the way to town. She apparently has “the lonelies” today. I can’t blame her exactly. For the most part, her family has never paid any attention to her except when they wanted something from her. Her son isn’t too bad a sort, but he lives in his own little world and hasn’t contacted her for weeks. She doesn’t want to push herself in, so she once went five months without contacting him. But anymore, I think even HE would contact HER before that amount of time, wondering why SHE hadn’t called HIM! – LOL -  We’ll probably stop by his place tomorrow, since it’s the only way to ever see him. Hopefully he’ll be there. Maybe the granddaughter will be there, too. I hope so. We old codgers don’t hold much interest for a ten-year-old, but it’s still nice to see her. At least she’ll give us a hug. Old folks can use a hug once in a while!

It’s supposed to be warm again tomorrow; I hope it is, since I’d like to split a little firewood. I worry that things will bud out with all these warm spells, though, and then get burned back by frost and freezing. The poor, pathetic deer in this area could sure use a good acorn crop for a change. I’m sure those with fruit trees are concerned, too. Oh well. Que sera, sera. © 2017
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109 Years Ago Today

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..."Kid," (Granddad's sister at Parkersburg, West Virginia,) sent this card to him where he was working at Griffithsville, W.Va.
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Thursday, February 9, 2017

A Little Catching Up (Why, I Don’t Know)

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Sunday, I finally got some more firewood poles and logs drug up from the back yard to my front-lawn “log-yard.” I had to air up the left rear tire again on my lawn tractor. I really should take it to town and have a tube put in. Even after all these years, I STILL don’t like tubeless tires.

Monday, we got my wife’s car started and she drove it a few miles to charge up the battery. Before she left, I told her to back into the sloping parking space and jam on the brake, to see if my fallen socket would shake loose from a plastic “tray” under the radiator that I can’t reach. Instead, she crept backwards, nearly hitting my truck three times before I moved it. When she returned, she hit one of my firewood poles coming in the driveway (no damage, thankfully). I’ve been telling her for several years that she needs to get out at least once a week and drive, so her car would keep running okay. It appears that I should have been more concerned about her losing her abilities. From now on, it will worry me every time she leaves the driveway, especially since I notice her memory slipping slightly. (Don’t you DARE tell I said any of this!)

Tuesday, I finally managed to get a haircut. I’ve been trying to get one for weeks, but anytime I had the $10, I didn’t have the time, and whenever I had the time, I didn’t have the money. I finally managed to lay back an extra $10 and save it until I had the time. You’d think a retired guy would have all the time in the world, but I carried that small stash in my wallet for over TWO WEEKS!

Wednesday, I got the firewood poles and logs in my log-yard cut to length, and the wood that was already stacked covered with a tarp. It began to rain about dark and turned to snow before midnight, so I’m glad it’s covered. I have to split the rest before I can stack it. We ended up with about two inches of wet snow. It never got up to freezing today, so nothing melted, but it should be gone tomorrow or the next day, according to the weatherman. I have to admit that it’s beautiful outside today. It wasn’t a lot of fun knocking off the ice that was covering the door handle on my truck today, though.

I took the missus to walk a round or two in the mall today (Thursday). The pooch and I waited in the truck. She nearly fell when exiting the mall door, due to the strength of the door cylinder, and a nice young woman insisted on helping her over to where I pulled up on the sidewalk for her to climb in.

I don’t know what will happen tomorrow around here. Between how I’m feeling, the weather, necessary errands, and my wife’s changeable schedule, everything’s a crap-shoot. Only hindsight will tell, I guess. © 2017
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Tuesday, February 7, 2017

Bob White And Jesus

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I’m not sure how I first met Bob, but it was either as a sawmill or Christmas tree customer. Bob was tall and lanky, sort of like Abe Lincoln, but still with enough muscle that he’d probably be just as good at splitting rails. His hair and beard were reddish, and he wore glasses. He always had a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face, and his complexion was naturally ruddy, I think, but it was made more so from years of working outdoors every day. You see, Bob was a well tender in the local oil fields—whenever I saw him, he was always in a flatbed pickup with a four-wheeler and a bunch of gas cans in the back. There was often a layer of red clay sticking to the two vehicles. I’m usually not good with names (as opposed to faces), but I always remembered Bob’s name because it was so similar to the little game bird that I used to hear as I was growing up on the farm (they’re extinct around here, now). His last name was actually Whited, not White, but the memory trick always worked and I could remember the “D.”

For those who don’t know, you have to keep the oil pumped off natural gas wells or it eventually plugs off the flow of gas. That’s why you see “nodding donkeys” (oil pumps) and oil tanks scattered around oil and gas country. In the old days, the pumps were powered by big one-lung engines that burned natural gas from the wells. Somewhere along the line, they switched over to Briggs-type engines that could be run on gasoline and switched out easily when they had too many problems to fix in the field. I thought about applying for such a position once, but figured that I wasn’t enough of a mechanic to fix an engine at 110 degrees in the shade or at 15 below zero in the howling wind, or any OTHER temperature for that matter. It takes a special breed to do that kind of work, and I got the impression that I might not have the skills required.

I pretty much quit seeing Bob once I quit sawmilling and selling Christmas trees. It was probably 15 years ago when I bumped into him at the gas station one of the last times. We said hello and called each other by name, and had exchanged a few words, when the female clerk spoke to him and called him “Bill.” After just enough conversation to tell me that they were well acquainted, he turned to leave and spoke to me again. I asked him if his name was actually Bill and he grinned and answered to the affirmative. I asked why he hadn’t told me 20 years ago that I was using the wrong name. His eyes twinkled as he said, “I didn’t figure it mattered; I knew who you were talking to.” I vowed to try to do better; we laughed, and then went our separate ways. I think I’ve only seen him twice since, and I managed to call him by his real name both times. He’s well past retirement age now, so I may never see him again, but I’ll always remember his pleasant nature and that day of surprise.

To address the second part of the title above, I grew up in a home that, like most Christian homes, referred to the Messiah as “Jesus.” Quite a few years ago, I learned that His Jewish name was some version of “YESHua,” with some saying “YOSHua,” and others saying “YeSHUa.” Since they couldn’t agree, I just kept calling Him Jesus. Gradually, there seems to be a general agreement forming that “YESHua” is the proper pronunciation, and I’ve been trying to use it, since some folks believe that “Jesus” has links to the name “Zeus,” of mythology. After a lifetime of calling Him Jesus, though, I only get it right about half the time. When the day comes that we meet, if I happen to mention my failure to always call him by his proper name, I sort of hope he does like Bill and smiles and says, “It didn’t matter; I knew who you were talking to.” © 2017
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Sunday, February 5, 2017

Sunday Grump And Growl

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I took the missus to Chinamart again today. While she started shopping, I went next door to Lowe's and looked for a handicapped spot between the doors, forgetting that they don’t have any. Instead, they have some by the exit and some by the lawn and garden center, but NONE in a central location where they would do the most people the most good. Plus, they only have about half as many as they need. Stores seem unaware that the nation’s largest generation is aging rapidly and could use a break now and then.

Going inside, I found only two electric scooters, neither of which had a key. After checking with the closest clerk, he told me that one didn’t work, but that the other one did and should have a key. It did, in the fold of the floor mat. It took me all of 30 feet before it died. The scooters they use are super cheap and have no charge indicator. I was hobbling a bit today and chose not to trek the vast warehouse to find what I wanted. The entry doors wouldn’t open to let me back out, so I had to hobble clear around the “service” area and go through an unused check out to get to the exit door RIGHT BESIDE THE ENTRANCE! Despite having scooters, Lowe's apparently doesn’t really want any business from handicapped folks.

Next, I went across the road to Tractor Supply. They have no scooters, but they’re a smaller store and their handicapped spaces are right by the door. They had the small wire brass brush I was looking for, but were selling the thing for triple what it was worth because of the name on the handle. I didn’t buy it. Then, I looked for filing gauges for the rakers on sawchains. There are three common sizes of chain, so I wanted one of each, but they only had the largest (and most common) size. It was more than I had planned on spending, so I was going to have to use my credit card. However, after standing in line a while, the guy in front of me used a card and the machine wouldn’t process it. I put the gauge back and left. Just as I walked out the door, the machine kicked in and the fellow got to the door just after me.

I noticed they had wisk brooms while I was there, but they were from Mexico and weren’t worth taking home. Besides, I bought some cheap paint brushes to serve the same purpose recently. When I went in Chinamart, I learned that they also had gotten some in since the last time I looked, but they looked like crap, too. The scooter I got there had a full charge, but it seemed to have a flat spot on one rear wheel. I call those scooters “Galloping Gerties,” since you feel like you’re riding a horse.

When I got home, I finally managed to get the sawchain replaced with a sharp one and topped off the bar oil and the fuel. The oil jug that Stihl puts out doesn’t pour well when it’s full, so I got some oil on the outside of the saw. The breeze didn’t help any. I think I’ll pour the oil in an empty water jug, they pour better.
The missus is watching the polygamous Mormons again tonight, so I think I’ll go upstairs and see if I can find anything on what few channels I can get on that TV. I may find some way to get a cheap new one this year, so I can watch something interesting when the missus is watching stuff I don’t approve of.

Well, I guess I’ve gotten everything off my chest, so have a good evening! © 2017
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Thursday, February 2, 2017

In Praise Of “Junk”

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We never had a LOT of old machinery and stuff sitting outside our barn, but we had a little bit. The “best” stuff, though, was kept inside the barn, out of the weather. Our machinery was stored there, too, what would fit, the rest was over the hill in a smaller barn beside where my great aunt lived. Even then, we didn’t have a LOT of junk sitting around, compared to some farms I’ve seen. But anything that appeared to have something that could be used to make or repair something else was saved.

Many a time as we looked through our “supplies,” we found nuts, bolts, washers, rods or sheet metal to use in a project around the sawmill or farm. We never had any drift pins for disassembling anything; we just used old bolts. After all, you had to pay money for a nice set of drift pins, and old bolts were free. Naturally, you’d ruin the threads on new bolts using them for such things, so that was out, too. Most of the time, we could find what we needed to work on something without having to head off to the hardware store.

A couple days ago, I disassembled my old office chair, so I could start figuring out how to rebuild it. It wasn’t made to ever be disassembled, so some parts had to be dealt with using my cordless DeWalt cut-off tool. A couple rods had to be driven out after cutting, and I was stumped for a minute, until I figured that I could use a cut off piece to drive out the piece remaining.

When I finished, I had a couple short pieces of hardened 5/16 steel rod and one longer piece, plus a couple washers. Those pieces will go into a plastic jar in the basement and be saved for later use. Unfortunately, I have no stock of junk to pull from to fix the chair, so I’ll either have to buy some steel or use wood.

Then again, I DO have that old piece of gas pipe under the rear deck! © 2017
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Wednesday, February 1, 2017

Pocket Knives And Bureaucrats

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When I was a kid, probably every boy in my grade school carried a pocket knife. Since many of us kids lived on farms and used knives daily, even many of the girls carried small knives in their purses. They were good for a LOT of things, but especially cutting the twine on hay bales, if it was your job to feed the cattle when you first got home. Many a time, a woman teacher who needed to cut something too tough for scissors would ask to borrow a knife from one of the boys. No-one thought a thing about it. That held true all the way through high school. Heck, we even took our guns in our cars in high school, so we could hunt some on the way home at times. But times have changed—DRASTICALLY!

A few days ago, a couple local lads (ages 11 and 17) spent the night with their grandmother. The few items they took with them went into the younger one’s backpack, including the older boy’s pocket knife. Unfortunately, he forgot to remove it the next school day, and it was there in the backpack when the younger boy went to school. Upon finding it there, the trusting kid turned it over to his teacher, knowing that they weren’t allowed to have knives in school. His teacher took the matter to the principle, who expelled the boy for a week. Then, some-one discovered the blade was 1/8 of an inch over legal and the school board expelled him for the whole year.

In my view, if the teacher had any human decency, he/she would have told the boy to put the knife back in the pack and not mention it to a soul. If the principle was any sort of human being, he/she would have done the same. The school board, of course are elected and have to cover their backsides so they can get re-elected, so they were the most heartless, uncompassionate, spineless people of all. Every school official from the teacher on has absolutely no concept of true morals, or they would have behaved differently.

The kid didn’t know it was even there until near the end of the day. He has a good reputation (or DID). It was the older brother who made the initial mistake, but no allowance was made for that fact. The actions of the so-called “educators” WERE a learning experience for ALL students, though. The students should now know to NEVER tell their teachers ANYTHING. They now know that honesty is NOT the best policy, and that they should lie through their teeth to avoid trouble, after all the penalty will be no worse!

Yes, Wood County West Virginia Board of Education and so-called educators, you have certainly taught the students of this county something. You have taught them that you have absolutely no morals or common sense and that they have nothing to gain by having those formerly admirable traits, either. Congratulations folks; you should be SO VERY PROUD! © 2017
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Saturday, January 28, 2017

Another Saturday

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Yes, we went to Chinamart, our home away from home. I was feeling sort of weak, tired and a tiny bit light-headed today, so after I got the heavy stuff in my rider, I mostly just sat around, not much caring to meander and look at things that I couldn’t afford. I WAS tempted to get a little Disney-character fishing pole and reel by Shakespeare for $2.50 on sale. My thought was to put it in the truck as an “opportunity” or emergency rod. I remembered, though, my decision not to ever pay money for a rod again, when God furnishes sticks galore around most any body of water. It will be a good deal for SOMEBODY, though.

Remembering my strange physical feelings, I went over to the blood pressure gizmo and found it not in use, so I sat down and took three readings of pressure and heart-rate. They ran 84/56-58, 80/54-43 and85/51-55. That’s a little lower on all counts than I’m accustomed to, so that may explain the way I felt today. It DOES make me wonder about the wisdom of the heart doctor increasing my Digoxin (digitalis), though. It also makes me wonder if I should take the stuff before I go to bed, so it will help with any episodes of my heart racing during moments of sleep apnea, instead of in the morning, when I usually take it.

Later at home, The Woodwright Shop episodes were ones that I didn’t care to watch again, so I tried unsuccessfully to nap, but I did feel somewhat rested from lying there with my eyes closed for an hour.
There was nothing worth watching for a while on TV tonight, until Lawrence Welk came on. YES, I like Lawrence Welk! I like ALMOST any kind of music except rap (which isn’t music at all) and modern black gospel. Growing up, I listened to old American folk songs, Gay Nineties music, songs from the WWI era, the 20’s and 30’s, WW II music, including big band and swing, country, bluegrass, rock and roll, blues, jazz, rock, pop and even disco. The stuff they call country today is more like what used to be called “southern rock,” which I liked then, but I don’t care much for its musical offspring. Incidentally, I like classical, too, maybe due to having a sister that took 12 years of piano and was always in orchestra at school.

I DID learn something by watching Lawrence Welk tonight. The music to “It’s All In The Game,” was written by Charles G. Dawes, a Nobel Peace Prize winner and vice president under Calvin Coolidge. He was born at nearby Marietta, Ohio and Graduated from the college there. You should check out the link on him.

As you might guess, I’m currently sitting on my torturous oak chair, so I’d better wrap this up! © 2017
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Thursday, January 26, 2017

Two Subjects For The Price Of None

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Equality - We hear a lot about equality these days. That’s kind of sad, since there IS no such thing. Even the statement of old that “all men are created equal” is a lie. It’s a well-intentioned lie, but it’s still a lie. What the founding fathers, and most folks since, have been shooting for is to make all men (and women) equal in the eyes of the law. Even then, it’s only a goal, and an unachievable one at that. The poor will ALWAYS be at a disadvantage with the rich and/or powerful when they meet in court or when laws and regulations are interpreted. Even if appearance and social standing don’t influence legal decisions, a well-paid, slick-talking lawyer will nearly always win out over a less talented one used by poorer folks.

The term “equality” as used today, though, often has nothing to do with equality under the law, or even the equally unattainable goal of equal opportunity. Instead, it’s being used as a term to describe the equal OUTCOME of the efforts or NON-EFFORTS of individuals, a meaning more in keeping with “fairness” or “equity.” The problem is that what those terms mean in daily life is as relative as beauty; they’re all in the eye of the beholder. Thus the modern search for equality is nothing more than a class war. Those with less talent, less drive, less energy, less intelligence, less education or less wisdom feel that they are ENTITLED to live as well as those who HAVE one or more of those traits.

Except for some lying politicians, the only folks who are clamoring for equality are those who have less than the people over which they are obsessing. Jesus told us that the poor would be with us always, and He spoke the truth. The problem lies in so many of the poor complaining about their lot, instead of WORKING to improve it. An old saying that my Dad’s family often used was “Poor people have poor ways.” That can be interpreted two different ways, but both are true. I should know; I’m relatively poor myself these days.

Farmers – Looking through this year’s Old Farmer’s Almanac, I was reminded of a problem in this nation. The fact that we have 3.2 million farmers sounds good at first, until you learn that only 110,000 of them are under age 35, and that the median age of farmers is 58. When this country was founded, 90% of the population was made up of farmers; when I was a young man, the percentage was down to 3.5%; and now it’s down to less than 1%. Is it any wonder that food costs are rising? The farmers still can’t make a profit, but those who buy, sell and transport the stuff are doing fine. No wonder we see so much foreign food in the stores.

The question is, what will this nation do if the world economy tanks or we get into another world war? Goodness gracious, the snowflakes will starve (and MAYBE the rest of us as well). © 2017
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Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Just Another Day

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Just after lunch, I loaded the old iron bed I was giving my daughter-in-law in the back of the truck. I knew my wife would want to go somewhere later, so I figured I’d make the trip serve a purpose. Eventually, she made the suggestion, so I quickly agreed. We took the pooch along, too. I went to the antique dealer’s and sold him a couple knick-knacks, a few old photos and a small handful of 1950’s post cards for enough to buy a half-tank of gas. That wasn’t much, but they were things that I’d decided not to keep anyway, so it beat trashing them. I wonder if I’ll still be sorting stuff out in another five years?

We got to “the kid’s” house before anyone got home, so I left the pieces of the old bed in their carport and messaged them on Facebook about it. The bed belonged to my great grandfather, then the folks used it for years. They finally started sleeping in separate beds as they got older, then it was Dad’s bed. I’m glad to keep a little history in the family, for now at least.

Not long after we got home, it sounded like something hit the roof and rolled or slid downward. When I looked later, there was another branch on the porch roof. I need to get up there and clean the gutters and the roof before spring. The missus changed her mind once again and told me that she wants me to go ahead and cut the two white oaks closest that side the house after all. I hate to do it, but I think it may be for the best. It might be different if I was 20 years younger, but I don’t relish going on the roof any more often than necessary these days. I’m not scared up there, it’s just so danged inconvenient for an old geezer.

I watched Shepard Smith on FOX for the first and last time this afternoon or evening. If I wanted that kind of liberal BS, I’d watch CNN. I sometimes wish FOX would quit trying to be so “fair” and just tell the truth. I still like Hannity and now Tucker Carlson (I think). O’Reilley isn’t too bad most of the time, either, except when he gets even more full of himself than normal.

I get most of my news anymore online from other bloggers, and some folks on Facebook who post news from various sources. And then there’s CBN, too. Truth is a hard thing to find on TV anymore. It’s been increasingly that way since the days of John Kennedy. He was the first president canonized by the media while Nixon was later demonized, though he was basically a pretty good president. All the former hippies now trying to run the country seem to forget that Nixon was the one who got us out of Vietnam, and that it was Johnson who put us there. I’m sure glad Trump came along. Maybe by the time he leaves office, the old hippies will be too old to do anything. Unfortunately, that probably means the snowflakes will be taking over. It will be curtains for sure when THAT happens.

I failed to mention that I changed my mind the other day and paid $7 for an Old Farmer’s Almanac. I still say it’s a rip-off, but I enjoy reading them, and sometimes look things up in them, though I’ve never planted by the moon in my life. Oh well, I guess if the missus can change her mind, so can I. Like the old saying goes, “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.” © 2017
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Sunday, January 22, 2017

A Mixed Bag For Sunday

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We got a late start toward town today, so we got back later, too. Still, I was able to work outside for over an hour running the chainsaw and using the lawn tractor to pull poles and short logs to the front yard. I’ll have more than enough to finish my current stack of wood, so I’ll soon be able to sell it for a little gas money for the truck. It was the first time in probably three weeks I’d had the opportunity and weather at the same time to allow me to work outside. It felt very good, though it tired me out some.

As for my “TV problem” that I mentioned in a previous post, I remembered my stash of earplugs, so the problem was solved.

I went upstairs and boxed up my C-PAP machine this evening. After less than two full nights, it was already beginning to affect my sense of smell and make me feel funny. I’ve decide that I’ve always trusted in the Lord to leave me here as long as there is a reason, so I guess there’s no need to put any trust in an aggravating machine that causes as many problems as it solves.

I was checking my blog stats earlier and was surprised what the one source gave as the number of folks who had visited my blog. Just to keep me humble, though, their records showed that 55% of the visits lasted less than five seconds, and 50% of all visits were first time ones. I take it those folks didn’t like what they saw and will never be back. (Probably snowflake-liberals that showed up there by accident! Haha!)

I just bottled another stink bug before I sat back down here at the computer. I’ve learned that they’ll usually hold still long enough that I can get them with an empty water bottle. The little Chinese immigrants seem to find easy access to my board cabin, though the walls are about eight inches thick, so my new hobby is bottling bugs. I hope you don’t have too many in your area, or at least have a tighter home than I do.

Well, I go to my regular MD tomorrow for a six-month check up. No biggie, Medicaid requires it, and he rarely leaves the comfort of his stool, so it’s easy money for him. I WILL get a blood draw for my heart doctor while I’m there. My “device” told the techs that my heart-rate is climbing slightly and he wants to check my Digoxin levels and will probably raise them slightly. I’m on a very low dose as it is, so it shouldn’t be a problem.

I worked the last ten minutes in the rain today, and it’s supposed to rain tomorrow, so I guess it will be yet another inside day. Hope your Monday is a good one! © 2017
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Surrounded By Perversion

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Everywhere I go online, I keep bumping into photos of the women’s march in Washington. Like the rioters, many seem a little unclear about what they’re protesting. In one photo, several women are holding signs stating that they want to protect “productive rights.” Obviously, they don’t really understand the meaning of the words they’re using. If they did, they’d know that their signs indicate that they’re fighting for the right for women to HAVE babies, not murder them. They need to go back to using the term “abortion rights,” if they’re going to be hell-bound murderers, they might at least be honest about it.

On a more personal note my dinky office is right next door to my wife’s room, where she’s watching the little flock of semi-fundamentalist Mormons that have a “reality” show called “Sister Wives.” Currently, the little group of perverts is dealing with the very brattiest of their offspring who has decided that she’s a lesbian. I can’t help but hear it, but the whole think makes me almost sick. Perverts can pop up anywhere, but I have to wonder if it’s more likely in homes where sexual practices are weird (and sinful) to begin with. © 2017
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Saturday, January 21, 2017

My Saturday

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We decided to go to Chinamart today to do our main shopping for the week. When the missus got out of the truck, I went next door and bought a couple new, empty gallon paint cans. (Ralph Goff will probably chuckle at that.) Used cans would serve for most things, but I figured I’d best have new for my project. One will hold naphtha for degreasing saw chains before sharpening and the other will hold bar oil to dip them in afterwards, and I didn’t know how either liquid would react with paint residue in a used can.

I never degreased my chains when I cut timber, but the dealers do it. It makes the chains cleaner to handle and makes your files last longer. However, since it’s best not to put a bone-dry chain back on the bar, I’ll dip them in oil after I sharpen them (the dealers do that too, I think). If plans go as desired, I may finally fire up my chainsaw mill this summer and will need to sharpen chains again. I may even see if I can file a few for profit, but I have doubts whether that will pan out.

I picked up a few things myself today at the store. Some were grocery items that my wife won’t use, so I paid for them with my small amount of remaining money from my monthly stipend. I also picked up a jar of pineapple chunks, not because I really “needed” them, but because I needed the jar. I guess I could do like some advertisers and say that if I paid nearly $3 for the jar, the pineapple was free! I would rather have had Mandarin oranges, but they were from Communist China, whereas the pineapple was from Thailand. I’m not sure that’s much better. Both were sold under the DOLE label. Remember when their fruit came from Florida and Hawaii? That’s one reason I don’t buy much of their stuff anymore.

I took the dog out when we got home, and then sat on the porch with her for a while. There were a couple vehicles on the 15 acres of vacant property across the road about 150 yards from the house. That piece is very narrow, but deep—like a piece of ribbon. There’s very little buildable land near the road, but enough for a couple houses. These guys seemed to be looking down over the brink at the next flat though. I assume the place is being sold and that we may soon have more cussed neighbors. My wife takes the opposite view and thinks another home nearby will make our place safer. If I’d have been able, I’d have bought both places across the road just so I WOULDN’T have another home nearby, but that’s just the sort of cranky old curmudgeon I am.

 Since it was the Sabbath, I didn’t do any work outside, though we had perfect weather for it. I would keep the Sabbath properly if my wife would, but she’s a “normal” Christian and thinks I’m a couple bricks shy of a load. So, she cooked a meal today and we went shopping. I know the Lord will forgive me, but I still don’t like doing it.

On a different note, they say prepping is already down since the election. I guess that makes a big statement about people’s faith in Trump, but folks should remember that not all catastrophes are political. I can’t do much prepping anymore, but I do what I can. I hope you do, too. We ALL need to be like the OLD Boy Scouts and be prepared. © 2017
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Thursday, January 19, 2017

Idleness And Other Devilish Pastimes

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I didn’t get a lot done today, so at least I was consistent. My sleep wasn’t the greatest last night; for one thing, I woke up after a couple hours to that nauseating odor in my sinuses that comes from over-using my C-PAP machine. I probably won’t use it for a couple days now. I took off the “mask” and slept a couple more hours without it, until my wife rang the bell to let me know that the Mighty Dachshund needed to sashay out into the lawn. I couldn’t get back to sleep afterward, so I got back up and the missus fixed breakfast at 4:30 am. THEN, I had to stay up another hour-and-a-half to let it settle before I could go back to bed. I DID manage to type up a post during that time.

Climbing out of bed later, my sheet crinkled like it was a plastic tarp. I’m using a flat 100% cotton sheet on the bottom, but a PART cotton-part polyester sheet for the top. Between the top sheet’s stiffness and its reaction with the cotton below, it sounds like I’m camping in the woods on a plastic ground cloth and I get to see little balls of static electricity like a sort of mini-fireworks show when I move.

We snuck across the big river and into enemy territory today, so my wife could visit their Chinamart. I went next door to Lowes and looked for naphtha, but all they had was quarts for $8, when I can buy it in another chain’s store down here for $16 a gallon. No thanks. I DID slip into Chinamart just long enough to look for a pocket calendar. I’d finally settled on a 7-inch square one for my desk recently. Square seems to be the new style of calendar these days and the square ones the same width as my old one was too “tall” for the old spot, so I’m standing the smaller one against my computer. It’s actually more convenient than the old location. Since I couldn’t find a pocket calendar anywhere in the store, I looked at an American-made pocket notebook but, while the quality was far better, it was $3 to China’s 26 cents, so I sadly settled for the cheaper one. I wanted a small calendar to mark down my pills as I take them, as I sometimes miss them.

When I got home, I did manage to go to the basement for a few minutes and drag out an antique bed that I’m giving my sweet little daughter-in-law. Hopefully, I’ll get it delivered before the weekend entirely escapes me. I was hoping to have a book to loan her if she desired, but my reading has been a bit lax lately and I may not be done in time.

I went onto Facebook for a while later and made a couple comments about politics and tattoos. I was immediately jumped by a sodomite and two snowflakes for daring to have an opinion that didn’t happen to jive with theirs. After a couple salvos, I wisely blocked them, so I wouldn’t have to tolerate opinions different than mine. – LOL - Of course they could have done that in the first place, but they really WANT someone to fuss with them. I guess it gives their life meaning. I DO get tired of all the haters, though.

I sat down with the missus and watched some of the inaugural concert, but wasn’t all that impressed. I thought Trump spoke well afterward. He’s got gonads; he came out from behind the bullet-proof glass surrounding his family when he spoke. I kept hoping some jerk with a .50MG sniper rifle wasn’t within a half-mile of the site. After the fireworks, he and his family went inside the Lincoln Memorial for a few minutes and stood before Lincoln’s statue and read and quietly chatted a little. As he stood there looking at the likeness of Lincoln, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was a little overwhelmed by the size of the task before him, and if he didn’t feel a bit like David, staring at a Goliath of a job.

I’ll be praying for him and those around him every day from now on; I hope you will, too. © 2017
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Flippin’ The Bucket

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Since many of my readers tend to be geezerly sorts like myself, I’m sure this subject will ring a bell for a few folks. I can just barely remember when the OLD barn was standing at our farm. Dad built the new one in 1961 using only hand tools. He did have some occasional help from his father, brother-in-law and a couple nephews, though.

What was left of the old barn was soon torn down, but the accompanying cistern was left, since Dad figured he’d rig one of the downspouts from the new barn to fill it. Interestingly enough, that was never required. Whether groundwater seeped into joints of the old clay filler pipe, or into some unseen crack near the top of the cistern, we never knew (or cared), but in rainy weather, the old cistern filled just as reliably as if the old barn was still there. (Theme from the “Twilight Zone” playing in the background.)

Since we didn’t have city water at the farm, the reasonably close proximity of the old cistern was a real boon on those occasions when we had cows penned in the barn for any reason. Filling a half-barrel with water as the cows drank took a few trips, even with two buckets, but the cistern was only a hundred feet away, so it wasn’t too bad.

Now, as those of you who’ve ever dipped water from a well or cistern with a bucket on a rope will know, there’s some slight skill involved. If you just lower the bucket until it hits the water, it just floats there like a miniature version of some Welshman’s or Irishman’s coracle. All it would need to take a tour of the cistern would be a leprechaun with a paddle. That’s where the skill comes in. To tip the bucket and make it fill, you have to give a certain swing and flip of the rope just before it touches the water, so the bucket will land on its side, instead of its bottom. Thus the bucket will fill. If you don’t get it just right, all you have to do is raise the bucket a few inches and do it over. It was always great fun give the task to some city friend when they visited and see how long it took for them to figure it out.

There IS a way to cheat a bit, though. If we were going to be drawing water for an animal for some time to come, like when we fastened up the bull every spring, Dad would put a short length of log chain between the rope and the bail of the bucket. It only takes eight to 12 inches of 3/8 chain to do the trick, though other lengths and chain sizes would work. With the chain in place, even the slightest flip would tip the bucket and let it fill. It seems to me that I’ve seen some folks fasten the chain (or some other weight) directly to one side of the bucket, but we never did.

It’s funny the things that come to mind after you’ve put the pooch out at 3am and you can’t get back to sleep. That’s why, after lying there for over an hour, I decided to get up and share this with you. I hope you feel rested as you read this; I’m going back to bed! © 2017
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