Sunday, March 31, 2013

To My Reader in Kamloops

Please, leave a comment, say hello. I've always liked British Columbia, used to fish in your fair town many, many years ago.

It'd be nice to hear from you.


May Each of You

Have a wonderful Easter.

 I thought I'd include a shot of Little Bit from last Easter.

Please, be at peace.


Saturday, March 30, 2013

Don't Call Me a Honey

She just left the shop, Cloey. She belongs to a friend and is four years old and cute as a button. I instantly fell in love.

Somewhere during the conversation I called her, Honey.

She turns to me, stomps her little foot and said, "Stop calling me Honey."

We laughed. I knelt before her and took her into my arms, then said, "Okay, Sweetheart. I'll never again call you Honey."

Her, big smile. Then, "Good. I like Sweetheart. You can call me Sweetheart all day long."

I want a little girl. So bad.


Friday, March 29, 2013


I'm still alive and kicking, just busy.

(As example it's taken me two hours, thus far, to reach this point of the post.)

Anyway, here's a book I believe you'll find interesting. This continues the theme of my March 26th post and that of my good friend, Duke. The topic of precious metals.

If, I do not return before the weekend I'd like to wish you a wonderful Easter. Please, take care out there.


Wednesday, March 27, 2013

I Wish

A pox upon Simon Fuller. I hope he develops a rash on his bun, he teeth turn
brown and he develops a lisp.

I hate American Idol.


Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Like a Moth to Flame

I'm drawn to silver. Not only is it a wonderful hedge against inflation, but it feels good. I like its heft. As of late I've adjusted my investment away from pure silver rounds and bars to the currency of Old Mexico. Vintage Mexican coins contain anywhere from ten to ninety percent silver. Always check before you buy.

The beautiful old coin pictured was minted in 1952 and contains (as you can well see) .72 percent silver, or at today's current spot, just over eleven dollars worth of silver. Adjust for Numismatic value and you have a twenty dollar (or more) coin. This coin was minted in Mexico City as indicated by the mark, Mo. Its weight is just over 27 grams. An ounce of silver weighs 31.1 grams.

Here's a link for the silver conversion tables of Mexican silver coins. If you'll scroll down the link you'll also find tables for other countries as well.

As long as silver remains below thirty dollars an ounce I'm a buyer. Trust me, one day you'll wish you had a small leather pouch filled with silver.

Have fun.


On This Day

So far, it's been a good day. We've both taken the day off and have explored. She allowed me (yes, allowed, gave her permission) to browse a coin shop, one of the largest gold and silver dealers here in north Florida. I spent a bit.

I was given gifts, after a nice breakfast.

Why, you ask....well, about thirty-five years ago today my mother reached and gave my father a slap to the face. He said, "Ouch. Why'd you hit me?"

She replied, "Because you knocked me up."

He blushed. It was their first time at this baby making business and he wasn't sure of himself.

Then she said, "Now, take me to the hospital." Around noon she gave birth. I came out and said, "It's about time."

The nurse fainted.

(Really, joke. Okay, maybe a wee bit more but not much.)


Sunday, March 24, 2013

And, Repeat

Not sure how long I'll be able to write as the storms have returned with a vengeance. The loss of power is very possible.

Sweet Wife left very early for her church services. She tiptoed to my side of the bed and gave me a kiss and then I was alone with the sound of distant thunder; the morning dark and the air heavy with rain. I left my warm bed and quickly stepped outside for the Sunday paper. Isn't it nice to open your home's door and to step back inside to the scent of fresh brewed coffee and the gentle caress of a cat  with a good hour of reading heavy in your hand.

Sunday morning papers and coffee agree with me.

It's heavy now, the thunder. Then the high pitched chest thump crack of lightning. The house silent otherwise. Now, the rain. The gutters spill the excess like walls of pure silver. I wonder, where do the wild critters take shelter. My old cat sleeps peacefully beneath my outstretched legs. She lets forth a soft whine when the thunder rips. The wind chimes dance with glee.

I should make breakfast. Perhaps I'll wait for the return of my wife. She'd like a hot meal too, besides, what art is to be had when one dines alone. 

Again, the far off sound of new storms announce their approach. The thump vibrates the house and gives warning of winds exceeding sixty. Winds with the power to reduce mighty oaks to kindling.

I flipped the screen to Fox and within seconds the signal is lost. Fine, I do prefer the silence. Maybe, just maybe, I'll jump over to Ebay and try a snipe on silver coins. If I'm careful there are bargains and satisfaction to be garnered by my sneaky intrusions. When I win I always express my apologies to the fallen foes. I know, but isn't it just good manners, when you've reached and taken the coin from their purse, to give regrets.

Off topic, sorry.

The rain pounds. I should flank this storm and build yet another fresh pot of coffee, just in case the power fails. Gather a nearby kerosene lamp and place matches alongside. It's dark enough some light might dispel the gloom.

She'll be home soon. My needless worry of her safe arrival is silly. She'll have a four mile journey within the storms clutches, and I will not stand by the garage door in wait. Such might provide an insight into my fear of losing her. I've lost far too much of late. 

Rain, pelts the roof. Its soothing. Perhaps I should read. Yet, here I sit as I tap this mindless ramble of words upon a white screen to the beat of thunder and rain and the odd flash of silver light as my trees dance and sway with the wind. I'm sure if I rose and stepped back outside I'd find the river with whitecaps where even the gulls have sense enough to seek shelter under the boat house.

Isn't it pretty how storms break the monotony of life. How they are able to open those hidden doors of our minds and to lay bare our worst fears and worries. Yet, storms too give us solace. Storms can fortify our will and courage, dispel our weaknesses when our strengths are needed.

I'll place a light in a window. It's dark outside.

(Published without edit. The storm has flickered my power and time isn't on my side.)

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Coffee, with a slice of Thunder

Sorry for my late replies and lack of post. Business has been outstanding this week. Between the shop and SW's therapy and my housework; well, let's just say I've been a busy man.

We have a stormy night. Hard pounding rain, thunder and lightning...nice stuff for a cup of coffee and a slice of pie.

I hope this finds all of you, my friends, well and happy.

Now please excuse me. I believe I'll put my feet to stool and read until I fall asleep to the sweet music of the rain.

BTW, my slice of pie was Lemon Meringue.


Thursday, March 21, 2013

At Least Say Hello

First full day of Spring and our weather is cool and bright. Tomorrow it will be, August, or at least feel like it. When our weather turns warm it sticks around for a long, long, time.

Good morning, my friends. When I logged on I spotted a reader from Eastwood, New South Wales. Thanks for reading, now, say hello why don't 'ya.

Beautiful country down under...


Yesterday a yellow cab pulled into my driveway. Lady jumps out and runs to my front door. I let her inside. She walks in, breath labored, tears.

She begins, "Please, Sir. I be caught this cab from my home. I'm on my way to the hospital where my husband is about to have surgery and when we arrived here I realized I'd left my wallet at home. I've got to get to 'da hospital and I don't have any cash. (catches her breath) Please, Sir, can I be have thirty-five dollars?"

She begins to wiggle. Jumps in place for just a second. One of my customers gives a chuckle.

Me, "Dear lady, first of all the hospital is six miles south of here and you would have had to pass it on your cab ride to this location. Secondly, your home, if I understand you correctly, is fifteen miles further south of the hospital. Why, on God's green earth, did you ride so far north to ask for cab fare?"

Her, blink, blink.

Then, "Well just f*^k you, you piece of s*it white man."

She then turns and slams the door on her way outside. Didn't even say goodbye.

At least she tired.


Today, I hope, I shall bundle this pile of federal tax forms and even larger folder of paper and deposit it on my new accountant's desk.

Perhaps now I can truly begin to enjoy our freshly given Spring.


Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Heck of a Day, and Thanks

It's been a long hard day. Finally home and have my feet on a stool. It feels good. Left work and met Sweet Wife and we had a nice quiet dinner (shrimp in sun-dried tomato sauce over pasta) accompanied by soft jazz. I'm stuffed.

I know I haven't written much over the last few weeks, but please bare with me. Tomorrow I should finally finish my tax work. Four straight days of pure hell. Have I mentioned how much I hate taxes.

While stopped at a traffic light, very early this morning, I caught sight of an eagle. In her talons she had a death grip on a large pine bough. She held a bee line for a cell tower. Her nest was located near the top. She strained, and pulled, and yet I knew she'd never make the nest. She just didn't have the angle or power to heft such a large piece of limb to the newly formed nest.

Sure enough, about half way I could see her lose all enthusiasm. She banked sharply north and released her prize, then she banked east and climbed to her nest, talons empty.

Felt sorry for the little lady.

We all have our difficulties in life.


My new friend, MI2Tall, became a follower today. Thanks, my new friend. Please, run over and say hello for me. I really like his header picture.

Thanks, my new friend and welcome aboard. The coffee is always fresh. Grab a cup and let's chat.

 Until then,


Monday, March 18, 2013

Have A Seat

I'd like to thank and welcome two new followers, the first, Jose Ramon Santana Vazques. He has a very interesting blog so please run by and say hello. My other new friend is, Orbitup. His blog, Subject To Change is well worth a visit.

Gentlemen, I promise to always leave replies to your comments.

Again, thank you and welcome, pull up a chair let's have a cup of coffee. You're now among friends.


Sunday, March 17, 2013

Coffee Time

It's a lazy Sunday afternoon and I wanted a cup of coffee.

So I baked a chocolate cake.

My first. When it cools I'll apply chocolate icing.

Hey, when you want a cup of coffee and a snack and the wife is busy at work you'll learn new skills.

Hope its good.


Irish Potatoes and Heritage

Allow me, please, to show you the birthplace of my grandfather.

This is Hope Town, located in the norther Abacos of the Bahama Islands. Hope Town, a beautiful harbor, was founded by my grandmother, Wyannie Malone. It's a long story, Google it.

If you were to amble around the town you'd notice my family name stitched, stamped and painted everywhere. We also have a family museum wherein a picture of my grandfather, Ben, hangs. All of us are descendants of Ireland.

I come from a long line of shipbuilders. My grandfather captained a sailing vessel and I have it on good authority his favorite dish was a hash of potatoes and ham.

So, in honor of my grandfather (and St. Patrick's Day) today I'll build his dish.

Anyway, my family holds a huge reunion each August. I hope to attend this year. It bugs Sweet Wife as she's never seen the island.

Above, note the 'Malone,' it points towards Malone Beach. My father once owned Malone Beach until he gave it over to the British for taxes back in the late 1950's. I've never forgiven him.

Time to cook.


From One Irishman

To all others,

Have a great day.


Saturday, March 16, 2013


You will know beyond a shadow of a doubt when you've reached the pinnacle of patience and maturity.  Just imagine a group of teens: their boombox at max output as they wash and wax cars directly next door to your business, and...

You don't walk outside and scream at them, but rather smile and remember your lost youth.


Friday, March 15, 2013

You Know What I Hate

I hate the fact it's me and not you knee deep into my taxes.

Guess I'll pay for someone's new phone.


Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Good Night

It's been a long day.

Sleep well.


Good Morning

I stepped outside this morning to the scent of oak mast and salt marsh. It was windy and cool and the river held a slight chop of whitecaps. Nice change from wet and warm.

With my first cup of coffee came a knock on my shop door and there stood my small lovely friend, DFW. She was on her way to work and stopped bearing a gift of her homemade yogurt. The little jar of white and gold sweetness now sits and waits for my lunch.  Thanks, my lovely friend.


My second shipment of precious metals arrived yesterday. Four days after the shipping number indicated its arrival. I'll never again trust this particular dealer.

Truthfully I'm not sure whom to blame - the postal service or the dealer. But then I've never trusted the postal service.

So there. 


I've made a promise, to myself. I will finish my taxes. The thought of it is akin to wearing a kilt as a rider in a bronco busting contest.

My main concern is after it's all said and done, and the check is written and sent, my dollars will fund our so called government. It's theft, pure and simple.

I should just keep my mouth shut. It was recently brought to my attention by a fellow blogger I had a hit of several minutes from the Florida Supreme Court. The reader has returned on several occasions. I do appreciate their attention and hope the reader enjoyed his or her stay but the very thought of 'them' lurking about my blog is very disquieting.

Government is government is government, as Gertrude Stein would say.



Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Not now...

We have a soft rain. It's quiet and business is slow. My coffee is hot and I've a good book.

Not the one pictured, but its still a good read.



Monday, March 11, 2013

I Like

The television show, Pawn Stars.

I mean, they deal in firearms, gold and silver, and books. Often, during the show, the camera gives a view of a showcase filled with Navajo Silver jewelry - another of my likes which I've collected since the early 70's. 

What's not to like...


Time to Lock and Load

I believe I've had two separate shipments of precious metals stolen in transit. Each dealers website tracking numbers indicate delivery status.

I'm pissed.

Before I begin to raise hell with the United States Postal Service I shall kick back with a cup of coffee and wait until today's mail arrives. My mailman (screw political correctness) is a nice fella, and I'll not give him grief, but his boss should hide.

Perhaps there is a lag between when 'delivery' is posted and the actual physical drop off of the package, but when one shipment is marked delivered on the eight and my calender reflects the eleventh, I get suspicious, especially when I was here the ninth.

Did I say I was pissed....well, I am.


I have a new friend and follower. Thanks and welcome to Matthew Forte. Matthew, I promise to always reply to your comments, so always check back. It sometimes takes me a few hours or days but rest assured I shall answer.

Again, thank you and welcome. You are now among friends.


Now, please excuse me while I clean my piece. For those of you not familiar with gun culture terminology, never mind.


Saturday, March 9, 2013

The Scent of a Smile

I have a large pot of homemade chicken soup on the simmer plate. The house is richly scented with thyme. Soon I'll toss a loaf of French bread in the oven and after the bread is happy spread butter and garlic atop, then slide it back inside for a deep tan.

Anticipation, the best part of the meal.

Chicken soup has been prescribed for eons as a cure for the common cold. So I figure a couple of bowls of rich goodness should accelerate my wife's recovery.

She's curled upon the couch, all lovely, deep into a nap.  When she wakes I'll present her with a bowl of smiles.


Test, testing

Just wanted to see if you were awake.

Return to your normal position.


Friday, March 8, 2013

Wrens and Wind

This morning I stepped outside to the song of a Carolina Wren. I liked how our windy morning gathered the birds song and stretched it across the yard.

It was perched atop a hedge with its feathers fluffed and when I drew near the tiny bird zeroed its message towards me as if to say, 'This is mine, bub, scram.'  The little boogers about the size of my thumb. I'm willing to bet he'd whip my butt.

Same with certain people. It isn't size that determines the fighter within, its their inner strength, will and determination over obstacles between them and their goals.

She is in great pain. This morning she was pale with an upset stomach. Medication, I think. Anyway she went to work but only after she promised me she'd leave if her condition continued downhill.

Sweet Wife is a fighter.


Please excuse my absence and lack of comments both here and at your nice blogs. My duties extend in several areas and sometimes it's difficult for me to wrap my brain around the written word when I face sickness, business, and home duties. Especially when each overlap and need constant attention.

Tax time is about to reach and slap me square in the face. This tax year will be difficult since my long time accountant and friend, without my prior approval, died. Now I must find another and since I'm not the most trusting of souls the task will be difficult indeed.

I hate taxes.


I have a new camera. Yeah, big deal. Its a tiny thing. Got pixels and everything, a flash even with a small lanyard to wrap around my pinky finger. Auto focus....

I'm sure it'll put me in a balcony chair with the other famous phototogs of the blog world. So, standby and I shall attempt to download a few pictures and place said snaps here (the crowd cheers and waits with baited breath.)

And the crowd, sighs...
Not very good I'm afraid. Hey, at least I tried. I need to correct the date thingy within the camera's guts.

As you can see I've been busy the last few days. I love silver and will snatch any stray bar or round that gets near me. The locals know I buy at twenty percent under spot. No, it isn't a ripoff. They need quick cash and I like silver and they leave with a smile on their faces. I grin...but only after I take my little bottle of acid and test each piece. Well, not every piece. Some I just drop and listen for the ping. Beware shiny pieces of silver.

China now stamps some awful good counterfeit Silver Eagles. I'm a fan of Old Pour bars from long gone American refiners. If you purchase Old Pour bars off the net expect to pay a hefty premium. Notice the small square bar at the bottom of the photograph...its an Old Pour from a Nevada mining company, two (2) ounce piece.

Just above it you will find an art bar from South East Refining late of Panama City, Florida. They also produced rounds. I'm a really big fan of Mexican silver, Libertads (spelling) especially. Their heft pleases me.


Gotta run. My coffee cup is empty and we've a chilly morning and I need to get to work.

Again, thank you for the kind prayers, and God bless. And, hey, I will reply to all comments soon. I promise.



Wednesday, March 6, 2013

It Wasn't the Chili

She'll be fine. Exams and further test are scheduled. Just now she said the pain has subsided so I guess the medication has taken hold.

We're both weary and in need of sleep.

I'm rich with her love....

God bless each of you for your kind prayers.


Monday, March 4, 2013

On Hold

Please excuse me for a while, I've a very sick wife and she needs my attention. I'll be back soon.


Sunday, March 3, 2013


The chili slowly simmers.

This is Sweet Wife's favorite cold weather meal. I enjoy chili anytime, breakfast even. Not long ago she asked if I'd please not add chopped green chilies to the mixture. I promised, with a straight face, that I'd never ever again include chopped green chilies.

So when I built the present pot of man goodness I used chopped jalapenos.

I'm a man of my word. Dinner is served. 'Ya come.



I stepped outside this morning to a windy and cold day. I pray it will last as Spring knocks. Soon the Coots will turn their wings northward and I've noticed our hickory has fresh green buds. Our winter is so very short.

As I gathered the heavy Sunday paper I turned to the river and its whitecaps and mentally soaked in the cold breeze and could almost taste the briny scent of the marsh. The windchimes clattered. I smiled. I'll miss the chilly season. Winter is a brief lover to southern climes.

I've finished the morning paper and my two cups of coffee and must now rise and tidy the kitchen. My lovely wife will soon arrive home from church. If she were to find a mess in the kitchen she'd frown and give me, 'the look.' I'll not disappoint her.

Today we shall drive downtown. Minor errand. I try and avoid downtown trips. As we live within a city divided by a river there are several bridges from which to choose and accomplish our task. All lead to confusion. I hope to infiltrate and fall back quickly.

Wish me luck.

On another note; please forgive my lack of attention to your blogs. I live (at present) a very hectic life. These last few months have presented many challenges. Some good, others not so much. The latter holds sway. I DO read your blogs. Many I scan. None the less, all of you make me smile, and at times, weep. Just know and trust your lives are important to me as you are and shall always be my friends.

Smile, the purple sash is upon the cross. It's almost Spring.



Saturday, March 2, 2013


Give me a frigging break.


You know, there comes a point when it just gets childish.


Friday, March 1, 2013

Bits & Pieces

I still haven't eaten breakfast and here it is near noon. My morning has been spent deep into first of the month accounts, ink to checks. I've just returned from a dash to the bank. I gave over a wad of cash to cover all those slips of paper now under stamps. At least, by the grace of God, I have digital funds still to my credit. Safe in the black.

If the day arrives when the accounts show red, I'm out of here. As it stands Sweet Wife wants me to retire, in her words, right now. Not gonna happen.

After I left the bank I drove a gentle pace back and noticed a new pawn shop has established itself very near my business. I came (picture my fingers) this close to a visit. I'm fully aware of my weakness for silver and firearms and I knew if I stepped inside I'd walk out light of wallet.


Don't you just hate it when you pull a fresh cup of coffee and a customer rings the doorbell and you set you nice hot cup aside to chat and forget it and (run on sentence under development) then reach back for the nice hot cup of coffee and take a big gulp and its as cold as a Chicago hooker's butt in January. Well, don't 'ya....


I mentioned somewhere above I have a weakness for silver. Please allow me to rephrase. I like tangible investments.

Just before the onset of this depression (refer to as you will) I pulled clear of the stock market and ran hard towards precious metals and other practical investments. I buy on the dips and we've had a dip in silver for the last few days. When silver closes below thirty dollars, I'm in like flint.

I have a reputation in this area as a fella willing to hand over cash for tangible investments, those in the form of firearms, silver. I rarely if ever see gold walk into the shop. But silver, yes indeed. Much of it in the form of  ninety percent pre-1964 coin, or 'junk' silver as its known in the trade. I like it.

I also like silver rounds. Bars are fine too, I just prefer the rounds. Especially Engelhard Prospector one ounce rounds. Just my other reason, silver is silver after all.

Ordered a few last evening as Sweet Wife napped.

Engelhard has ceased the production of The American Prospector which tickles my fancy....I enjoy the hunt.

Just an FYI.


Hey, I really need to get back to work. Take care.