I heard a barred owl over toward the cave side of the hill a couple nights ago. I don’t know if they’re courting yet or not. I haven’t heard any coyotes for a while. The nights are quieter now that the cold is settling in (except for the sound of the wind in the trees).
It’s a sunny afternoon as I type this. My wife is watching what must be the last soap opera on TV. She says they keep killing people off to where she wonders if it, too, will soon be history. It’s gotten rather trashy over the years anyway; sometimes she gets disgusted and turns it off (especially if it shows people rolling around in bed (and especially if it’s two guys)).
Later – My wife and I went to town this afternoon and let my chiropractor copy my Medicaid card. Then, we went downtown to the Oil Field Museum, where I gave them a three-photo-wide picture of the oil field in Blue Creek, West Virginia, in the early 1900’s. The derricks come right into the wide spot along the creek that makes up the town. Railroad cars are in the photo, along with at least one man on horseback. I would like to have a copy of it, but there’s no easy way to copy or scan something that size (24” or so long).
Years ago, I thought it was amusing when my then teenage stepson took up fishing, after my wife repeatedly refused to ever let me take him fishing. This year, at age 45, he’s taken up squirrel hunting and deer hunting. She’s appalled that he’s taken up the “blood sports” like her heathen husband once did (me). She told him it was a shame that he didn’t have his deceased father around as he grew up. That’s true, of course, but what she was insinuating was that he wouldn’t be hunting these days if his father hadn’t died before getting him raised. She considers it meaningless that her first husband went hunting with his buddies on the Marine Corp base, when they lived in Virginia. Once again, I’m amused.
I pulled my two of buckets of ammo from the basement this week to sort. I’ll never use it all, since I don’t get around like I used to, so I might as we share some of it with my friends and relatives. In fact, I’ve already gotten rid of some of it. I used to have several pounds of black powder and 3000 shot wads, but a young plumber who was doing some work for me a few years ago relieved me of them without my realizing it. I stocked up when Clinton got elected the first time. If I was younger, I’d be buying everything I could afford; now that this country elects muslim commies like Obama. I’m too old to be a “freedom-fighter’ these days though, and too crippled up to be much of a hunter. Still, I haven’t sold all my guns or given ALL of my ammo away. I might need them to go down fighting when the guys with blue helmets show up at my door. © 2015