This is part two of Patriots set in a different local with all new and a few returning characters. James has requested you wait until October 4th to order the book.
Stephen
Friday, September 30, 2011
Rawles New Novel
Don't forget. Writing Page.
This is part two of Patriots set in a different local with all new and a few returning characters. James has requested you wait until October 4th to order the book.
Stephen
This is part two of Patriots set in a different local with all new and a few returning characters. James has requested you wait until October 4th to order the book.
Stephen
A Gift of Fruit & Herbs
He walked in early this morning bearing a gift, a potted plant held close to his chest. Short little fella, perhaps seventy, wore a fedora.
Without preamble, "You'a help'a my'a grandson, Sir.." Accent is thick. My Italian is none existent. It takes me a moment to understand what in the heck he means. Then, oh yeah, the kid with the rusty pistol, an old Brazilian Panther. A copy of a Smith, made for their fighter pilots chambered in .38. Nothing special. It took three days of soaking to open the cylinder
I refocus on the old man as he continues, "For this'a help I gives you this'a peach tree and 'da basil I plant'a in the soil, 'cause you'a good man."
Shucks.
He explained the peach tree alone wasn't worthy so he'd seeded basil at its base. His son, he explained, had told him I loved to cook using fresh vegetables (true, cans are for emergencies) and herbs.
We talked, with a bit of difficulty due to his thick accent, for about an hour. We spoke of capers, what makes an excellent tomato for sauces, the best of olive oils, pasta and the use of pasta water as a thickening agent for pan dishes. He explained how his wife used a blender to mix fresh basil and olive oil and froze the mixture in ice trays to later thaw for a fresh infusion in her preparations.
We spoke of spring gardens, slugs and bugs. He gave instructions on the planting of the peach tree; not before spring. My peach tree, I understand, will produce small but plentiful extremely sweet peaches in three years.
In the above blurry picture I'm pointing out the basil...he told me to transplant it when it sprouted three 'leaf'as.'
I have a new friend.
Without preamble, "You'a help'a my'a grandson, Sir.." Accent is thick. My Italian is none existent. It takes me a moment to understand what in the heck he means. Then, oh yeah, the kid with the rusty pistol, an old Brazilian Panther. A copy of a Smith, made for their fighter pilots chambered in .38. Nothing special. It took three days of soaking to open the cylinder
I refocus on the old man as he continues, "For this'a help I gives you this'a peach tree and 'da basil I plant'a in the soil, 'cause you'a good man."
Shucks.
He explained the peach tree alone wasn't worthy so he'd seeded basil at its base. His son, he explained, had told him I loved to cook using fresh vegetables (true, cans are for emergencies) and herbs.
We talked, with a bit of difficulty due to his thick accent, for about an hour. We spoke of capers, what makes an excellent tomato for sauces, the best of olive oils, pasta and the use of pasta water as a thickening agent for pan dishes. He explained how his wife used a blender to mix fresh basil and olive oil and froze the mixture in ice trays to later thaw for a fresh infusion in her preparations.
We spoke of spring gardens, slugs and bugs. He gave instructions on the planting of the peach tree; not before spring. My peach tree, I understand, will produce small but plentiful extremely sweet peaches in three years.
In the above blurry picture I'm pointing out the basil...he told me to transplant it when it sprouted three 'leaf'as.'
I have a new friend.
Jeff Dunham
Will open his show, 'Controlled Chaos' here in the River City February 10th. The guy cracks me up.
Here's a classic from a couple of years back....
Tickets are on sale in about an hour...I'll bet you a case of .223 it sells out in ten seconds.
Stephen
Here's a classic from a couple of years back....
Tickets are on sale in about an hour...I'll bet you a case of .223 it sells out in ten seconds.
Stephen
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Sleep of Tears
On those nights she sleeps between us, a warm soft bundle of love. She's such a tiny little girl she shares my pillow. I'm not sure when it happens but early on she'll gently worm her way inside my arms and snuggle. This pleases me.
It's difficult for me, sleep. It takes forever for my mind to allow the peace of rest to approach and shut out the demons of life. So I'm alert to her sleep patterns. As I wake, through out the night, I give gentle butterfly kisses and place my cheek to hers and listen and wait.
It always begins with her throwing out her arms, a jerk, a soft soul searing moan. Sometimes, a very very barely audible, "Oh, Papa." or "Nana." Then she'll begin to cry. This, does not please me. It rips out my heart.
I speak as soft as possible directly into her ear, "It's okay, Sweetheart, Papa's here, you're safe." And I use that 'shushing' sound in an attempt to lull her back to sleep. I kiss her and stroke her little arms. And, all the while asking God, why...why....why.
Most of the time my efforts work. She'll let out a gentle, 'ah' and return to dream land. Sometimes she takes my hand in hers and whispers, 'Papa.' I hold her tight and ask the Almighty to give this child, this angel, peace.
Many nights after these sessions I glance over and see her Nana wide awake with a look of sorrow in her eyes. We'll both stroke her, apply those butterfly kisses she so enjoys...."Papa, butterfly kisses are the way I know you love me."
She sleeps alone when she's away from us. Even now I hear her cries of nightly terror.
They haunt me.
Stephen
It's difficult for me, sleep. It takes forever for my mind to allow the peace of rest to approach and shut out the demons of life. So I'm alert to her sleep patterns. As I wake, through out the night, I give gentle butterfly kisses and place my cheek to hers and listen and wait.
It always begins with her throwing out her arms, a jerk, a soft soul searing moan. Sometimes, a very very barely audible, "Oh, Papa." or "Nana." Then she'll begin to cry. This, does not please me. It rips out my heart.
I speak as soft as possible directly into her ear, "It's okay, Sweetheart, Papa's here, you're safe." And I use that 'shushing' sound in an attempt to lull her back to sleep. I kiss her and stroke her little arms. And, all the while asking God, why...why....why.
Most of the time my efforts work. She'll let out a gentle, 'ah' and return to dream land. Sometimes she takes my hand in hers and whispers, 'Papa.' I hold her tight and ask the Almighty to give this child, this angel, peace.
Many nights after these sessions I glance over and see her Nana wide awake with a look of sorrow in her eyes. We'll both stroke her, apply those butterfly kisses she so enjoys...."Papa, butterfly kisses are the way I know you love me."
She sleeps alone when she's away from us. Even now I hear her cries of nightly terror.
They haunt me.
Stephen
Tamara
Study in keen wit.
My thanks for the loan of this photo to, VolkStudio.blog. If you haven't visited you're missing out on some fine photography, pure art, of firearms and other subjects with a heavy emphasis on your rights under the Second Amendment.
Visit the lovely Tam, she'll make your day.
Stephen
My thanks for the loan of this photo to, VolkStudio.blog. If you haven't visited you're missing out on some fine photography, pure art, of firearms and other subjects with a heavy emphasis on your rights under the Second Amendment.
Visit the lovely Tam, she'll make your day.
Stephen
Gotta Love It
Too busy to blog at the moment. So until later I give you....
Stephen
Quote of the Day: Michael Z. Williamson
You live in a city. You don't know how to change a tire or oil. You don't know how to build a fire. You can't communicate without a cell phone. You can't fix your plumbing. You can't set up your own wifi. You're untrained in basic economics, chemistry, physics and history. You can't prepare food without packages, and aren't even aware that food has to be processed from root or bone before that. You only know and get paid for one very specialized task.H/T RobertM
Yet you call me a "hick."
Stephen
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Book For Kindle
I downloaded, A Measured Response, a few days ago and have just now gotten around to the first couple of chapters. I like it, different. My kind of reading.
It's written by the nice lady at, The Female Survivalist. The story is, as you've probably guessed, set in America after that 'day.'
Give it a try, and hey, give her blog a try too.
Stephen
It's written by the nice lady at, The Female Survivalist. The story is, as you've probably guessed, set in America after that 'day.'
Give it a try, and hey, give her blog a try too.
Sixbears
Has written a most fine article this morning. Go forth and read.
Good Thing Most People Are Still Asleep
Sixbears has a fine blog and it should be a daily read anyway, so there.
Tell him Stephen sent you.
Stephen
Good Thing Most People Are Still Asleep
Sixbears has a fine blog and it should be a daily read anyway, so there.
Tell him Stephen sent you.
Stephen
Bits & Pieces
I've done away with that silly 'sign in word doohickey' thing that pops up after a nice person leaves a comment on my blog. It always drives me nuts when I find it on other's blogs. So, it's gone from mine. Just leave your comments and rest assured you'll not be asked to jump through hoops for your kindness.
Another pet peeve of mine is the 'your comments will post with blog owner approval.' What's with that stuff? You either want me to comment are you don't. Make up your mind. If some idiot has the balls to leave obscene wordage on my blog, guess what, if I haven't the time to track you down and mash your face into the sidewalk, then I'll just ban you forever....but approval...give me a break. Rant complete.
This morning, as usual, I rise, shower, dress and drive to Little Bit's house and take her to school. We stop for breakfast and a chat first. We're eating among a group of Coast Guard personnel, discussing their jump suits when Little Bit said, "Papa, why did I have to dress this morning and why did you come get me?"
Blink-blink.
"Because, my love, you need to go to school. It's, after all, Wednesday."
"Not really, Papa."
"Not really what? Wednesday?"
She laughs, darn near spits a mouth full of orange juice all over me, then, "No, Papa, you didn't have to get me today 'cause school's out for the rest of the week."
Me, mouth wide open, vacant glazed eyes, slightly redden faced, "What." In a rather loud voice. And, I catch myself just before letting out a few choice curse words. I do a one tenth second draw with my cell phone and call her so called father.
"Duh, yeah."
"Boy," I said (and yes I called him, boy) "Is Little Bit's school in session today?"
"Well, duh, yeah, I suppose so...?" How the kids today raise the last vowel on their sentence. "Why?"
I drop the call and phone her school. It's out. Teacher conference stuff. Sixteen mile round trip drive for nada.
I bring her back here to my office and she sweeps it clean..."Papa, I want you to keep this place clean, do you hear me."
"Yes, Sweet Heart."
I made her so called mother get out of bed and drive down here. Makes you want to slap someone....
Not this angel, others....
Ping, change of subject...
I've accepted the offer of writing a review for Lucky Gunner. So in the near future a box of .45 ACP should arrive in the mail and I shall blast the heck out it. What the heck, right, a chance to sling lead downrange, then write my thoughts in hopes some of you will purchase a fifty round box. Shame the pain I put myself through for the good of mankind.
Anyone have one of the these they'd like me to wring out....
Later,
Stephen
Another pet peeve of mine is the 'your comments will post with blog owner approval.' What's with that stuff? You either want me to comment are you don't. Make up your mind. If some idiot has the balls to leave obscene wordage on my blog, guess what, if I haven't the time to track you down and mash your face into the sidewalk, then I'll just ban you forever....but approval...give me a break. Rant complete.
This morning, as usual, I rise, shower, dress and drive to Little Bit's house and take her to school. We stop for breakfast and a chat first. We're eating among a group of Coast Guard personnel, discussing their jump suits when Little Bit said, "Papa, why did I have to dress this morning and why did you come get me?"
Blink-blink.
"Because, my love, you need to go to school. It's, after all, Wednesday."
"Not really, Papa."
"Not really what? Wednesday?"
She laughs, darn near spits a mouth full of orange juice all over me, then, "No, Papa, you didn't have to get me today 'cause school's out for the rest of the week."
Me, mouth wide open, vacant glazed eyes, slightly redden faced, "What." In a rather loud voice. And, I catch myself just before letting out a few choice curse words. I do a one tenth second draw with my cell phone and call her so called father.
"Duh, yeah."
"Boy," I said (and yes I called him, boy) "Is Little Bit's school in session today?"
"Well, duh, yeah, I suppose so...?" How the kids today raise the last vowel on their sentence. "Why?"
I drop the call and phone her school. It's out. Teacher conference stuff. Sixteen mile round trip drive for nada.
I bring her back here to my office and she sweeps it clean..."Papa, I want you to keep this place clean, do you hear me."
"Yes, Sweet Heart."
I made her so called mother get out of bed and drive down here. Makes you want to slap someone....
Not this angel, others....
Ping, change of subject...
I've accepted the offer of writing a review for Lucky Gunner. So in the near future a box of .45 ACP should arrive in the mail and I shall blast the heck out it. What the heck, right, a chance to sling lead downrange, then write my thoughts in hopes some of you will purchase a fifty round box. Shame the pain I put myself through for the good of mankind.
Anyone have one of the these they'd like me to wring out....
Later,
Stephen
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Query & Oversight
For all my gunny buddies out there....have you ever conducted business with Lucky Gunner? I was recently emailed asking if I'd review their products and would like a little feedback. Thanks.
Now, a few days ago I posted my 'groups' adventures with the antenna tower we lowered and moved. During the writing of the post I mentioned a few of the core members of our group and a couple of new auxiliary members too. The one person I failed to note was my good friend, MDR. He's our long range member, living way out there in the hot, cow pie wastelands of North Texas. He may be stranded in Texas, but he's still a valued member and even better friend. Sorry, Bubba, that I overlooked you. Got a few things on my mind and I'm not quite firing with a full load of late.
To the rest of my blogging friends I will make a hard effort of catching up on my blog reading today, Lord willing. If I fail to leave a comment, please, forgive me. Between my business and the demands of life I feel kinda torn. I'm on my second pot of coffee and it's not yet noon. My trigger finger is itchy. I need to shoot, something....
Stephen
Now, a few days ago I posted my 'groups' adventures with the antenna tower we lowered and moved. During the writing of the post I mentioned a few of the core members of our group and a couple of new auxiliary members too. The one person I failed to note was my good friend, MDR. He's our long range member, living way out there in the hot, cow pie wastelands of North Texas. He may be stranded in Texas, but he's still a valued member and even better friend. Sorry, Bubba, that I overlooked you. Got a few things on my mind and I'm not quite firing with a full load of late.
To the rest of my blogging friends I will make a hard effort of catching up on my blog reading today, Lord willing. If I fail to leave a comment, please, forgive me. Between my business and the demands of life I feel kinda torn. I'm on my second pot of coffee and it's not yet noon. My trigger finger is itchy. I need to shoot, something....
Stephen
It Worked
Your prayers have worked. Thank you very much. This is a quick one (I'm busy, first day back and all) but wanted to let all my good friends know my brother is better. Still hospitalized, but better. I spoke to him this morning via phone and he seems cheerful. He's far from well, but with the grace of our Lord he'll continue his fight.
Again, thank you all very much, I'm blessed by your presence.
Stephen
Again, thank you all very much, I'm blessed by your presence.
Stephen
Monday, September 26, 2011
Quiet Time
Today I shall rest and read. I've a few minor chores but afterwards it's me time. If the spirit of my muse rises to slap me a good one perhaps I'll post later this afternoon. I've noticed a disturbing tread lately in the sleep patterns of Little Bit, on those nights she spends with us. I'd like to share my thoughts on my late night observations of Little Bit's dreams, but I need to think about it before I write of my fears. Or, if I should even worry. The great love one has of a child inflicts much damage at times, for those that take notice.
Seems much itches my conscious lately. Went to market yesterday and walked the isles and noted the price increases. A jar of mayonnaise for eight dollars...bread at three. This isn't a good sign. Inflation is eating us alive my good friends. Gold and silver have tanked due to the worries of investors in the European default possibilities and concerns of the EU dumping more currency in Greece; in order to raise capital to lend, banks must sell gold....bad stuff. Disturbing.
Time to jerk another cup of coffee and allow my mind to numb. Oh, and have you noticed the price of coffee lately.....better stock up. Coffee and ammunition should be stocked deep.
Rambling, aren't I. Sorry. See you later.
Stephen
Seems much itches my conscious lately. Went to market yesterday and walked the isles and noted the price increases. A jar of mayonnaise for eight dollars...bread at three. This isn't a good sign. Inflation is eating us alive my good friends. Gold and silver have tanked due to the worries of investors in the European default possibilities and concerns of the EU dumping more currency in Greece; in order to raise capital to lend, banks must sell gold....bad stuff. Disturbing.
Time to jerk another cup of coffee and allow my mind to numb. Oh, and have you noticed the price of coffee lately.....better stock up. Coffee and ammunition should be stocked deep.
Rambling, aren't I. Sorry. See you later.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Update
As of 11:00 p.m. eastern, my brother is still in the emergency room. He is not allowed visitors. His immune system has been compromised by a raging infection in his kidneys, bladder, and prostate. Doctors found a golf ball sized tumor on his prostate. A specialist in infectious diseases has been called and is on the case.
Thank for your kind words and prayers.
It will be a long night.
Stephen
Thank for your kind words and prayers.
It will be a long night.
Stephen
Post Script
Forgot to mention my friend Duke , a very valued member of our group wasn't able to attend yesterday's tower fun. He's attending his son's wedding. We wept. Also our good friend and another valued member of the group, Jim, is on an extended leave of absence. We miss him. He's the group's medic. Come back soon, our brother.
I'm sure if I had failed to mention them I would have gotten one of these.
Food prep is underway. Later.
Stephen
I'm sure if I had failed to mention them I would have gotten one of these.
Tower Update
I'm sorry but this will be brief. I've just received word my younger brother has been taken to the emergency room with a life threatening illness. Not much I can do at present, other than prayer. So this will be a post of pictures and a few notes.
Now to bring you up to date. Since my last adventure with my group and the post I wrote of the trip, I've added a few new followers. To bring you nice people up to date allow me a moment of explanation. I had an idea many years ago of forming a group of like minded individuals to support and defend each the other in times of either man made or natural disaster. Simple, huh. Try it. But fighting all the odds against, I succeeded. This success was due to the hard work and time of the nice men and women that joined hands with me in this adventure. They are the individuals due all the credit. They took my dream and made it possible.
I am still very reluctant to expose much about our group. But, by using careful wording and revealing nothing of our location, preps, and other details, I believe it safe to chat with you good folks of our labors.
Recently we were given a tower, a damn fine antenna tower, a beauty, all we had to do was move it. Ever hand dug and moved a 40 foot tower that's had the base sunk into four feet of concrete. It isn't easy. By utilizing hundreds of feet of rope, pulleys, a jeep, shovels and muscles and a few carefully chosen curse words, we 'got 'er done' in record time.
I ask, please excuse my poor photography. Above is one of our new members, let's call him AF1. The tower (left in the picture) still has vines as decoration. Here we're just beginning to dig. Little did we know there was a huge ball of cement underground.
This fine looking feller is Senior Chief. He has just climbed the tower (harnessed) and is striking a pose. He's attached a strap and hardware. We used a block and tackle in a large pine, and three other ropes to ease the tower and antenna to the ground. We did not want the antenna (at the top of the tower) to be harmed. This is one nice and expensive gift (thousands) and treated it as such....as you can imagine.
Sorry for this blurred picture. This is Rebel steadying the ladder for ShooterSteve as Shooter secures the block and chain in the pine. From here we ran a rope to the western side of the tower.
We begin to dig.
Above (as is the rule for all my photos) here we have ShooterSteve (best master electrician in North Florida) and Senior Chief. I think they've spotted a squirrel and are debating the best course of action to bring it down. They chose sticks.
An hour or so later, success. It's down, and more importantly, with no damage. Now the work begins. Rebel used his Jeep, and with the help of our new friend, Tim, eased the beautiful tower down like an Angel's caress.
Above we find new recruit, AF1 and Senior Chief dancing an Irish jig in joy.
There she rest. After a couple of hours of tractor work (Thanks to my Father's loan of the tractor and my nephew Dusty's tractor skills, we had the tower with its sock of cement back at the Boar's Nest. I swear I lost ten pounds. The heat and humid conditions were awful. Time for lunch on the Boar's Nest deck.
My Father, in his electric wheel chair, sits just off deck as the rest of us take a well deserved break and eat lunch. The fellow to the left of my father in the boys pants and slippers (we'll correct his dress soon) is AF2, soon to be an auxiliary member of our group. He is the nice guy that gave us his antenna tower. The least we can do is add him to our group, he does qualify. He just needs to complete a few steps in the process. He will make a very nice addition.
Another random shot of the legs of AF1 and Senior Chief....at parade rest.
I need to post and run. I've a dinner to cook, calls to make. Little Bit and her parents and little brother, Sport Model, are eating dinner with us tonight. I shall make a Shrimp Etouffee today. The shrimp stock is simmering as I write. Ever peeled three pounds of shrimp. It's fun.
Hey, this has turned into a long article for one that began as a quick note. Please, have a good evening.
Stephen
Now to bring you up to date. Since my last adventure with my group and the post I wrote of the trip, I've added a few new followers. To bring you nice people up to date allow me a moment of explanation. I had an idea many years ago of forming a group of like minded individuals to support and defend each the other in times of either man made or natural disaster. Simple, huh. Try it. But fighting all the odds against, I succeeded. This success was due to the hard work and time of the nice men and women that joined hands with me in this adventure. They are the individuals due all the credit. They took my dream and made it possible.
I am still very reluctant to expose much about our group. But, by using careful wording and revealing nothing of our location, preps, and other details, I believe it safe to chat with you good folks of our labors.
Recently we were given a tower, a damn fine antenna tower, a beauty, all we had to do was move it. Ever hand dug and moved a 40 foot tower that's had the base sunk into four feet of concrete. It isn't easy. By utilizing hundreds of feet of rope, pulleys, a jeep, shovels and muscles and a few carefully chosen curse words, we 'got 'er done' in record time.
I need to post and run. I've a dinner to cook, calls to make. Little Bit and her parents and little brother, Sport Model, are eating dinner with us tonight. I shall make a Shrimp Etouffee today. The shrimp stock is simmering as I write. Ever peeled three pounds of shrimp. It's fun.
Hey, this has turned into a long article for one that began as a quick note. Please, have a good evening.
Stephen
Friday, September 23, 2011
Fall, At Last
First day of Autumn. It's about time.
Tomorrow I will be with my group, my best friends. I hope to be able to post but can't promise. We will dismantle a radio tower (we hope) and move it to our Boar's Nest. I will take pictures and make notes for a future post.
Stephen
Tomorrow I will be with my group, my best friends. I hope to be able to post but can't promise. We will dismantle a radio tower (we hope) and move it to our Boar's Nest. I will take pictures and make notes for a future post.
Stephen
Thanks and Welcome
To Char, welcome aboard. As always your comments are encouraged and I promise to answer as soon as heavenly possible.
Stephen
Stephen
Thanks & Welcome
To Corey, pleased to have you. Any comments will be answered as soon as possible.
Stephen
Stephen
Sky King
How many of you remember Sky King. Not many I bet. I was just a little fellow when this program aired but I remember it, really I do. Had bullets in the title. The word bullets always caught my attention.
BTW, Penny was hot.
Stephen
BTW, Penny was hot.
Stephen
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Thanks & Welcome
My blog is just a few days over three months old. Today my 'follower' list registered its 80th hit. To say I'm shocked and humbled is an understatement.
This is a personal thank you and welcome to the mysterious 'hh.' You honor me. Welcome.
I truly hope my humble scribbling and odd post are worthy of the time you spend here. As I continue to say to all that hit my follow button, I appreciate all comments and promise to reply as soon as possible, individually.
Here, we eat Unicorn meat.
Stephen
This is a personal thank you and welcome to the mysterious 'hh.' You honor me. Welcome.
I truly hope my humble scribbling and odd post are worthy of the time you spend here. As I continue to say to all that hit my follow button, I appreciate all comments and promise to reply as soon as possible, individually.
Stephen
Classic Photo
Just for the fun of it.
The young man with the handgun is professional, do not try this at home.
Stephen
The young man with the handgun is professional, do not try this at home.
Stephen
A Must Read
Over at Brigid's she has posted a must read. If you have a female child living in your home, or as part of your family, and this doesn't convince you of the need to teach them the fundamentals of marksmanship and the need to carry a firearm, when they're of legal age, then I'm sorry, you're brain dead.
The title, Carrying A Firearm - What's It's Really About.
As is her way, Brigid has written an elegant piece. It's well worth the few minutes of time invested. Trust me.
And, here is my reason.
Do you get it....this is why I live. This is my heart. Do you think for a second I'd allow some beast to harm this child. Teach them guns are good. They protect them. I'll have this little girl field stripping an AR by the time she's eight.
Stephen
The title, Carrying A Firearm - What's It's Really About.
As is her way, Brigid has written an elegant piece. It's well worth the few minutes of time invested. Trust me.
And, here is my reason.
Do you get it....this is why I live. This is my heart. Do you think for a second I'd allow some beast to harm this child. Teach them guns are good. They protect them. I'll have this little girl field stripping an AR by the time she's eight.
Stephen
Good Friends, New Blog
I'd like to introduce my friends Jambaloney & Kymber. They spell their names without capital letters, but I'm strange and insist on writing their names my way. Anyhow, run over and say 'howdy' to my friends. They're nice people. Please. (See Mudbug, I always say please.)
They've bugged out to a small island off the Eastern Coast of Canada, a breezy wet and cool area, on the banks of a river where I understand the fishing is great. If we're lucky Kymber will post again this week.
Tell them Stephen said hello, please.
Stephen
They've bugged out to a small island off the Eastern Coast of Canada, a breezy wet and cool area, on the banks of a river where I understand the fishing is great. If we're lucky Kymber will post again this week.
Tell them Stephen said hello, please.
Stephen
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Palin
This, is very good news.
Snippet: WASHINGTON -- Look out President Barack Obama. Even Sarah Palin's gaining on you.
A new McClatchy-Marist poll finds that Obama looks increasingly vulnerable in next year's election, with a majority of voters believing he'll lose to any Republican, a solid plurality saying they'll definitely vote against him and most potential Republican challengers gaining on him.
Snippet: WASHINGTON -- Look out President Barack Obama. Even Sarah Palin's gaining on you.
A new McClatchy-Marist poll finds that Obama looks increasingly vulnerable in next year's election, with a majority of voters believing he'll lose to any Republican, a solid plurality saying they'll definitely vote against him and most potential Republican challengers gaining on him.
You Never Know
When you've dealt with the general public as long as I have, the one true inevitable fact of life is - you never know what will walk through the door.
It was midday yesterday when the door buzzer went off. I hit the lock release and he walked inside and immediately said, "I don't feel well."
He stumbled to a chair. I don't know the man well. I knew he was a state school teacher, industrial arts; what we used to call a 'shop teacher.' The man was extremely overweight. Little streams of sweat ran down his face, breath labored. At first I thought the old boy was in the early stages of a heart attack. I was still a few feet away when he began his rant at a pace not unlike a drunk writer lost in the troughs of a stream of consciousness work out.
He began, breathlessly, "Stephen I hate the *&^%^@#*ckers you know what I'm saying the da*n school board, I'm under doctor supervision and I had a nervous breakdown last week I'm all right really and but I need to kill one of them really man it's okay don't look so serious I swear man but I need to shoot someone."
Then, he took the handgun from under and behind his sweaty tee-shirt. He held it in both hands as if it were just a movie prop; he looked straight ahead, his voice a monotone of continuous bather. I held very still and slowly eased my hand back and hooked my thumb on my carry piece. I just did not know his intentions. I did not like this situation.
I asked, "Bubba, do you need a glass of water?" As I eased to my right. He took a deep breath, "Ah, sure. I'm fine, I just need to sit here a while." I could not take my eyes off the gun. It was a piece of crap Smith, the Sigma series, awful trigger system. Junk. Still, I could not help but notice the magazine was settled. Loaded, who knows. I just took it for granted. Booger hook was in place.
I took another soft step towards him, forgetting he'd asked for water. He continued, "They're trying to drive me crazy that stupid school board, sonsabitches (excuse the foul language) and I'm under doctors orders and I'm on medication and I need help and my life is awful but I'm okay trust me, Stephen, it's no ones fault but mine for allowing them to bring this down on me." (or words to that effect) Sweat continued to pour and he continued to caress the handgun and I'm thinking, "What the heck is he about to do, shoot me, or himself." Like that.
I did not like this situation. I glanced outside hoping beyond hope other customers didn't choose this moment to walk inside. I took another big step and settled in the chair, but one, from him. I asked, "Bubba, would you like me to look over the handgun?" No reaction. I still had the heel of my hand rested on the stock of my Glock. Holding his piece of crap Smith in both hands he used the back of both to wipe away sweat, his face was red.
Me, "Hey, let me see your gun." I reached. Him, "Oh, ah, yeah, well I was just thinking this morning....you know, ah, well, hey you know man I'm fine, really....oh God man I'm fine....doctor said I just need rest maybe retire man, you know." He still held that damn gun, tight. I shifted my weight a bit to my right, calculated my odds.
Thirty years I've dealt with nut cases like him.
That isn't nice, is it, to call a man you barely know a nut case....no it isn't. I don't live his life, haven't any idea the mental pain he deals with on a daily basis. It was obvious this poor gentleman was under some extreme stress. He was very overweight and I'm sure that fact didn't help his fragile mindset, and if you add the stress of his job, the children he dealt with everyday, and that socialist school board, well, crazy is truly understandable.
I once had a gentleman walk into my shop, dressed to the nines in a thousand dollar suit with Italian loafers and ask me if it would be okay if his mommy and daddy (his words, exact) could come inside and wait while I helped him. Mommy and daddy, really. I kid you not. I said, "Sure, no problem." He walked back out and I never saw him again. Go figure.
Or, the time a nice old man came and asked if I'd care to help him draft a plan for suicide in order to spare the pain of his children and grandchildren finding his body in a pool of blood. Wanted to know if canvas or plastic laid on his bed would be sufficient to contain the splatter of the head shot, and please, come to the house afterwards and gather his firearms and sell them for his family.
Then, there was the young man, high on God knows what, that stood in my waiting room and detailed his afternoons fun. He gave me a blow by blow of how he planned to beat his young wife; them married less than six months. Used his hands for emphasis. He looked me in the eyes and said he was 'going to' bite her nipples off, kick her in her neither regions, bite her buttocks. I reached to hold him, tried to grab his shirt while I took the phone in my other hand and he did a rabbit on me. Slammed my door so hard he almost shattered the glass. Last time I saw him he was on a hard run across the park. I gave the officer, when he arrived twenty minutes later, a detailed description. Never heard another word....
Many nights I arrive home and stand for a second and thank the Good Lord that I'm normal.
So, I ask the poor man again, "The gun, Bubba, what's the deal?"
Silence, peaceful silence as he takes in the handgun, then, "Oh, ah, whew, I don't feel good, Stephen, but, I, ah wanted to know if you'd like to buy it."
Quickly I said, "No, but let me hold it." He laid the weapon on the chair between us and I eased my hand over and took it. I slipped the magazine out, racked the slide. Empty. I could feel the tension slip from my muscles. Relief.
He in his little worried world, kept the words flowing, "I'm fine, doctors orders, and I hate the school system."
I said, "Are you able to retire?"
He looked over at me. "Yes. why?"
"Do it."
He walked out a few minutes later. God bless him.
Stephen
It was midday yesterday when the door buzzer went off. I hit the lock release and he walked inside and immediately said, "I don't feel well."
He stumbled to a chair. I don't know the man well. I knew he was a state school teacher, industrial arts; what we used to call a 'shop teacher.' The man was extremely overweight. Little streams of sweat ran down his face, breath labored. At first I thought the old boy was in the early stages of a heart attack. I was still a few feet away when he began his rant at a pace not unlike a drunk writer lost in the troughs of a stream of consciousness work out.
He began, breathlessly, "Stephen I hate the *&^%^@#*ckers you know what I'm saying the da*n school board, I'm under doctor supervision and I had a nervous breakdown last week I'm all right really and but I need to kill one of them really man it's okay don't look so serious I swear man but I need to shoot someone."
Then, he took the handgun from under and behind his sweaty tee-shirt. He held it in both hands as if it were just a movie prop; he looked straight ahead, his voice a monotone of continuous bather. I held very still and slowly eased my hand back and hooked my thumb on my carry piece. I just did not know his intentions. I did not like this situation.
I asked, "Bubba, do you need a glass of water?" As I eased to my right. He took a deep breath, "Ah, sure. I'm fine, I just need to sit here a while." I could not take my eyes off the gun. It was a piece of crap Smith, the Sigma series, awful trigger system. Junk. Still, I could not help but notice the magazine was settled. Loaded, who knows. I just took it for granted. Booger hook was in place.
I took another soft step towards him, forgetting he'd asked for water. He continued, "They're trying to drive me crazy that stupid school board, sonsabitches (excuse the foul language) and I'm under doctors orders and I'm on medication and I need help and my life is awful but I'm okay trust me, Stephen, it's no ones fault but mine for allowing them to bring this down on me." (or words to that effect) Sweat continued to pour and he continued to caress the handgun and I'm thinking, "What the heck is he about to do, shoot me, or himself." Like that.
I did not like this situation. I glanced outside hoping beyond hope other customers didn't choose this moment to walk inside. I took another big step and settled in the chair, but one, from him. I asked, "Bubba, would you like me to look over the handgun?" No reaction. I still had the heel of my hand rested on the stock of my Glock. Holding his piece of crap Smith in both hands he used the back of both to wipe away sweat, his face was red.
Me, "Hey, let me see your gun." I reached. Him, "Oh, ah, yeah, well I was just thinking this morning....you know, ah, well, hey you know man I'm fine, really....oh God man I'm fine....doctor said I just need rest maybe retire man, you know." He still held that damn gun, tight. I shifted my weight a bit to my right, calculated my odds.
Thirty years I've dealt with nut cases like him.
That isn't nice, is it, to call a man you barely know a nut case....no it isn't. I don't live his life, haven't any idea the mental pain he deals with on a daily basis. It was obvious this poor gentleman was under some extreme stress. He was very overweight and I'm sure that fact didn't help his fragile mindset, and if you add the stress of his job, the children he dealt with everyday, and that socialist school board, well, crazy is truly understandable.
I once had a gentleman walk into my shop, dressed to the nines in a thousand dollar suit with Italian loafers and ask me if it would be okay if his mommy and daddy (his words, exact) could come inside and wait while I helped him. Mommy and daddy, really. I kid you not. I said, "Sure, no problem." He walked back out and I never saw him again. Go figure.
Or, the time a nice old man came and asked if I'd care to help him draft a plan for suicide in order to spare the pain of his children and grandchildren finding his body in a pool of blood. Wanted to know if canvas or plastic laid on his bed would be sufficient to contain the splatter of the head shot, and please, come to the house afterwards and gather his firearms and sell them for his family.
Then, there was the young man, high on God knows what, that stood in my waiting room and detailed his afternoons fun. He gave me a blow by blow of how he planned to beat his young wife; them married less than six months. Used his hands for emphasis. He looked me in the eyes and said he was 'going to' bite her nipples off, kick her in her neither regions, bite her buttocks. I reached to hold him, tried to grab his shirt while I took the phone in my other hand and he did a rabbit on me. Slammed my door so hard he almost shattered the glass. Last time I saw him he was on a hard run across the park. I gave the officer, when he arrived twenty minutes later, a detailed description. Never heard another word....
Many nights I arrive home and stand for a second and thank the Good Lord that I'm normal.
So, I ask the poor man again, "The gun, Bubba, what's the deal?"
Silence, peaceful silence as he takes in the handgun, then, "Oh, ah, whew, I don't feel good, Stephen, but, I, ah wanted to know if you'd like to buy it."
Quickly I said, "No, but let me hold it." He laid the weapon on the chair between us and I eased my hand over and took it. I slipped the magazine out, racked the slide. Empty. I could feel the tension slip from my muscles. Relief.
He in his little worried world, kept the words flowing, "I'm fine, doctors orders, and I hate the school system."
I said, "Are you able to retire?"
He looked over at me. "Yes. why?"
"Do it."
He walked out a few minutes later. God bless him.
Stephen
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Rain
It's been a long and tiring day. The plumbers never showed so I've left a coffee can under the leak. Storms have pounded us all afternoon, which is kinda nice. We need the rain. I promise, I will try and write a nice post tomorrow as I had a strange event happen today at work.
Little Bit had a surprise from her dad this afternoon. He gave her permission to spend the evening with Nana and Papa. We're very happy to have her and she just told me it's time for Gunsmoke. I recently told her she was 'Gunsmoke' worthy. She's all proud and stuff....
Good Evening
Stephen
Little Bit had a surprise from her dad this afternoon. He gave her permission to spend the evening with Nana and Papa. We're very happy to have her and she just told me it's time for Gunsmoke. I recently told her she was 'Gunsmoke' worthy. She's all proud and stuff....
Stephen
My Knife
This is the new follow me post, so I'll play. Found it at Tam's. Here's mine.
She's a Benchmade, of course, a Mel Pardue design model 154cm. When touched and caressed with my America Stone, she'll cut your soul. I have been known to whip it out at fine dining establishments, much to the embarrassment of my wife, in order to carve my meat. It never leaves my side.
See, I can play these little games.
Stephen
She's a Benchmade, of course, a Mel Pardue design model 154cm. When touched and caressed with my America Stone, she'll cut your soul. I have been known to whip it out at fine dining establishments, much to the embarrassment of my wife, in order to carve my meat. It never leaves my side.
See, I can play these little games.
Stephen
Morning Stuff
Back to work this morning, it's busy, and then I find a water leak under my shop's bathroom vanity. What a way to begin the day. I'll be back later after the plumbers fix this mess. Yeah, me.
In the meantime, pick some cotton.
Stephen
In the meantime, pick some cotton.
Stephen
Monday, September 19, 2011
Thanks & Welcome
Thank you and welcome to Shepherd K and Russell for clicking my follower button. As always I promise to reply to all comments, individually.
I'm very happy you're along for the ride.
Stephen
Stephen
Bits and Pieces
A Nor'easter is blowing here, some light rain and fairly stiff breezes. After the geeks left this afternoon I went out to do a couple of chores and after my garage door fully opened I noticed a pile of debris on my driveway. Went about my business. Came back a few minutes later and a baby squirrel had made itself at home between two of my spare gas cans. The debris was its nest. Little critter shivered and had a bloody nose. For a second I thought about biscuits and squirrel gravy....
I went and grabbed one of my old leather gloves and bent and gently gathered the juvenile furball in my hand half expecting it to fight and bite. It surprised me. It simply sat there as if accepting its fate. I walked it out and placed it at the foot of the tree where I'm sure its nest had been prior to the winds. Afterwards I went inside and came back out with my Blackberry and it posed for me. It took some encouragement on my part to get the little booger to climb. Hope he makes it. Squirrel season is just around the corner and it needs size.
While unloading a load of 'stuff' and preps from our Sunday visit to Costco I noticed something odd with my travel trailer battery pack. The top was slightly off and when I looked inside the battery appeared to have blown up. Cracked wide open. Sent text to my friends to ask their expert opinions. Senior Chief thinks it just overcharged, and my buddy ShooterSteve said much the same. I think they'er both on the right path and I'll just add our hard summer heat to the equation. Marine/RV batteries aren't cheap. Guess I'll send an email to Washington and ask for a bit of that stimulus money.
This is the first time I've used my laptop, at home, to write and post using wi/fi. It feels, well, weird....but nice too. My home is now wired for the twenty first century. Gone all metro-sexual and stuff....big screen television with it ability to suck on the wi/fi signal, my Kindle (which I'm quickly beginning to enjoy, btw) and now my laptop. Since Sweet Wife and yours truly both use cell phones (land line is gone) I suppose we'll be victims of mother nature or some strange man-made disastrous situation sooner or later, and have zero comms when needed. Little dishes pointed towards the heavens rule our lives.
I like to give a quick thanks and welcome to my friend Russell for hitting my 'follower' button. Now, make a few comments and you'll be an official member of the club. Thank you, Bubba.
Stephen
I went and grabbed one of my old leather gloves and bent and gently gathered the juvenile furball in my hand half expecting it to fight and bite. It surprised me. It simply sat there as if accepting its fate. I walked it out and placed it at the foot of the tree where I'm sure its nest had been prior to the winds. Afterwards I went inside and came back out with my Blackberry and it posed for me. It took some encouragement on my part to get the little booger to climb. Hope he makes it. Squirrel season is just around the corner and it needs size.
While unloading a load of 'stuff' and preps from our Sunday visit to Costco I noticed something odd with my travel trailer battery pack. The top was slightly off and when I looked inside the battery appeared to have blown up. Cracked wide open. Sent text to my friends to ask their expert opinions. Senior Chief thinks it just overcharged, and my buddy ShooterSteve said much the same. I think they'er both on the right path and I'll just add our hard summer heat to the equation. Marine/RV batteries aren't cheap. Guess I'll send an email to Washington and ask for a bit of that stimulus money.
This is the first time I've used my laptop, at home, to write and post using wi/fi. It feels, well, weird....but nice too. My home is now wired for the twenty first century. Gone all metro-sexual and stuff....big screen television with it ability to suck on the wi/fi signal, my Kindle (which I'm quickly beginning to enjoy, btw) and now my laptop. Since Sweet Wife and yours truly both use cell phones (land line is gone) I suppose we'll be victims of mother nature or some strange man-made disastrous situation sooner or later, and have zero comms when needed. Little dishes pointed towards the heavens rule our lives.
I like to give a quick thanks and welcome to my friend Russell for hitting my 'follower' button. Now, make a few comments and you'll be an official member of the club. Thank you, Bubba.
Stephen
Standby
I have geeks in my house. Infestation of boys with pen holders in their shirt pockets, wires hang from their ears; it's ugly.
I will do my best to return this afternoon or, God willing, tomorrow morning. Nothing serious, the little boogers are working hard to bring me into the 21st century. My life will be richer for the experience. I hope...
They tell me my time online is up; snippy little whippersnappers. See 'ya later.
Stephen
I will do my best to return this afternoon or, God willing, tomorrow morning. Nothing serious, the little boogers are working hard to bring me into the 21st century. My life will be richer for the experience. I hope...
They tell me my time online is up; snippy little whippersnappers. See 'ya later.
Stephen
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Play It Bubba
Listen carefully. Big supporters of the Second Amendment.
"Come on and get you some."
Okay, give me a list of the firearms featured in this video. How many spotted the M1A...
Love it. H/T Brawny.
Stephen
"Come on and get you some."
Okay, give me a list of the firearms featured in this video. How many spotted the M1A...
Love it. H/T Brawny.
Stephen
How Times Have Changed
Oh, how the times have changed. Can you imagine children today at play with handguns during recess in our current silly politically correct society.
Stephen
Stephen
Friday, September 16, 2011
What's Cooking For The Weekend
It's hard for me to cook the way I like during the week. Work, family business, plan old weariness shuts me down on weeknights. Then Friday arrives and I take a deep breath and plan for a kitchen session. Most, but not always I think seafood. After all, I live in Florida. When one steps outside here, you wade through seafood. But, I want something different this weekend.
This morning I strolled around the internet and found myself once again at my friend, The Kitchen Witch's blog. She has a recipe listed today for Salmon Croquettes or patties, your choice. I still pronounce salmon with a silent 'L,' having lived out west for much of my life. Give the recipe a try....should be awful good.
Stephen
This morning I strolled around the internet and found myself once again at my friend, The Kitchen Witch's blog. She has a recipe listed today for Salmon Croquettes or patties, your choice. I still pronounce salmon with a silent 'L,' having lived out west for much of my life. Give the recipe a try....should be awful good.
Stephen