Prove me right, I told him you 'had the smarts.'
Stephen
Autumn
Friday, October 28, 2011
Tam
Tam, my good friend needs you help....here, he has a couple of handguns lost to history...and I think it'll be fun.
Prove me right, I told him you 'had the smarts.'
Stephen
Prove me right, I told him you 'had the smarts.'
Stephen
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Whupped
I've just now sat for the first time in many hours...too darn tired to think. I just might eat dinner, not sure as yet.
See you good folks tomorrow.
Later, before I sleep I plan to begin the above book.....
Stephen
See you good folks tomorrow.
Stephen
Busy
Sorry it's taken me so long to respond to comments left yesterday and over night. Just to busy here at work, which is a good thing. This morning I'm again in an up and down mood....can't think either.
Sad part is I'm only on my second cup of coffee....not good. Need coffee, I do.
Thinking.....
Little Bit jumped into my truck this morning and just had to show me how she now writes her 4's...begged me for a piece of paper and my pen. On the drive to school she filled a lined yellow sheet with her newly discovered form of four's. Joy is in the details.
The firearms business is slow. Few wish to sell, fewer still have them to sell. Bummer.This depression (admit it, it is) has touched every area of trade.
I await a spool of wire from my friend in Texas, MDR, so my friends in the group and I can proceed to run power to our clubhouse we affectionately call 'The Boar's Nest.' Picture me, like a little boy, jumping in place in anticipation. Thanks, Bubba. Our group member, ShooterSteve, has the generator standing by...I understand he recruited a pride of hamsters to supply the power to the generator. ShooterSteve is a fine electrician.
I suppose I should put it in gear and think of a Thanksgiving menu. I play chef for the family. Ham or Turkey. Both....we'll see.
Hey, gotta run.
Later
Stephen
Sad part is I'm only on my second cup of coffee....not good. Need coffee, I do.
Thinking.....
Little Bit jumped into my truck this morning and just had to show me how she now writes her 4's...begged me for a piece of paper and my pen. On the drive to school she filled a lined yellow sheet with her newly discovered form of four's. Joy is in the details.
The firearms business is slow. Few wish to sell, fewer still have them to sell. Bummer.This depression (admit it, it is) has touched every area of trade.
I await a spool of wire from my friend in Texas, MDR, so my friends in the group and I can proceed to run power to our clubhouse we affectionately call 'The Boar's Nest.' Picture me, like a little boy, jumping in place in anticipation. Thanks, Bubba. Our group member, ShooterSteve, has the generator standing by...I understand he recruited a pride of hamsters to supply the power to the generator. ShooterSteve is a fine electrician.
I suppose I should put it in gear and think of a Thanksgiving menu. I play chef for the family. Ham or Turkey. Both....we'll see.
Hey, gotta run.
Later
Stephen
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Just An Old Magazine
I rounded the corner of the hallway into the kitchen to find my Sweet Wife just about to dump some colorful items into the trash. I asked what she was about to throw away, she replied, "Just this old magazine and other junk."
I recognized the old market bag. It had keep me company for many years; packed full of heirlooms, vintage outdoor sporting magazines I'd purchased here and there over a lifetime. It was once a hobby. I enjoyed the memories they evoked, they gave back to me my lost youth. Sadly over the years I'd sold many as the price per copy, as determined by date of publication, proved to profitable to turn down when offered.
The practical side of me said keep a few, and I did so and even regretted those lost to the call of the dollar. I had a habit, on a rare winters day, of taking a few to sit before a nice fire with a cup of coffee and relive my youth.
Those long forgotten moments of my childhood would come flooding back over some simple advertisement like a soft fishing plug ad by Heddon Fishing Lures or perhaps Alladdin's Stanley thermos ads with its, 'Don't Worry, You Can't Break It,' slogan.
I took the copy destined for the trash and held it, smoothed its edges. It was published in May of 1966. When it first appeared in some far away mail box I was a teenager...forty five long years ago. A young man full of, as my grandfather said, piss and vinegar. A tall lanky six foot one inch wild kid with a bad reading and gun habit not opposed to walking a mile to fish a creek with an old cane pole rigged with a simple hook, sinker and cork. My can of worms carefully dampened and forgotten as I sat back in the shade and read Hemingway.
I enjoyed holding this old magazine again with its beautiful cover. This was back when most of the magazines still used illustrators and insisted they hand paint original cover art suitable to the season of the year. Spring and Summer you'd find boats and boys and men with fishing gear, raging and dramatic scenes of fighting the big one. Fall and Winter it was wildlife; deer and bear and of course, the mighty Whitetail Deer with Nimrod Jones and his Winchester. I loved best the bird scenes though, flushed coveys of Bobwhites or Grouse with Shotgun Bob ready for his double.
I remember when Robert Ruark's serialized, The Old Man and The Boy,' ran monthly in (I think) Field & Stream. I still break out my first edition of the story in hardback, ever so often, and read and remember when life was simple. Robert's rest came in Spain.
Another writer of the day was Ted Trueblood. Ted's articles. in Sports Afield, spanned years. Each month he'd take me camping or fishing or packing the wild wilderness of the west on hunts for elk and moose.
There were many others, far too many for my now tepid mind to remember. But I still have a few of these old magazines, my memories in sweet scented aged paper, to remind me.
Think I'll keep my last few remaining copies. They are not just old magazines.
Stephen
I recognized the old market bag. It had keep me company for many years; packed full of heirlooms, vintage outdoor sporting magazines I'd purchased here and there over a lifetime. It was once a hobby. I enjoyed the memories they evoked, they gave back to me my lost youth. Sadly over the years I'd sold many as the price per copy, as determined by date of publication, proved to profitable to turn down when offered.
The practical side of me said keep a few, and I did so and even regretted those lost to the call of the dollar. I had a habit, on a rare winters day, of taking a few to sit before a nice fire with a cup of coffee and relive my youth.
Those long forgotten moments of my childhood would come flooding back over some simple advertisement like a soft fishing plug ad by Heddon Fishing Lures or perhaps Alladdin's Stanley thermos ads with its, 'Don't Worry, You Can't Break It,' slogan.
I took the copy destined for the trash and held it, smoothed its edges. It was published in May of 1966. When it first appeared in some far away mail box I was a teenager...forty five long years ago. A young man full of, as my grandfather said, piss and vinegar. A tall lanky six foot one inch wild kid with a bad reading and gun habit not opposed to walking a mile to fish a creek with an old cane pole rigged with a simple hook, sinker and cork. My can of worms carefully dampened and forgotten as I sat back in the shade and read Hemingway.
I enjoyed holding this old magazine again with its beautiful cover. This was back when most of the magazines still used illustrators and insisted they hand paint original cover art suitable to the season of the year. Spring and Summer you'd find boats and boys and men with fishing gear, raging and dramatic scenes of fighting the big one. Fall and Winter it was wildlife; deer and bear and of course, the mighty Whitetail Deer with Nimrod Jones and his Winchester. I loved best the bird scenes though, flushed coveys of Bobwhites or Grouse with Shotgun Bob ready for his double.
I remember when Robert Ruark's serialized, The Old Man and The Boy,' ran monthly in (I think) Field & Stream. I still break out my first edition of the story in hardback, ever so often, and read and remember when life was simple. Robert's rest came in Spain.
Another writer of the day was Ted Trueblood. Ted's articles. in Sports Afield, spanned years. Each month he'd take me camping or fishing or packing the wild wilderness of the west on hunts for elk and moose.
There were many others, far too many for my now tepid mind to remember. But I still have a few of these old magazines, my memories in sweet scented aged paper, to remind me.
Think I'll keep my last few remaining copies. They are not just old magazines.
Stephen
From The Beginning
I guessed her age at about nine, maybe ten, khaki pants with a white shirt, short hair slightly windblown. The bus had just pulled away.
My shop is located on a very busy street across from a large city park. Her school bus stops on the corner.
My last customer had just walked out the door when I saw her walk to the corner and slump against the chain link fence.
Thirty minutes later she was still there. I know why it bugged me. She isn't much older than my granddaughter, and my little one is my heart.
So, I stood guard, walked outside. I conceal carry. She was safe.
Every few minutes she would stand and walk to the edge of the street and glance first one way then the other. Hoping, waiting. She, at least to me, appeared worried.
I have a bench in front of my shop. I tried to appear like an older man just taking a nap, when all I really wanted to do was walk over and give her a hug and tell her it was fine and I was sure mom or dad would be there soon, but you and I both know I couldn't do that.
Forty two minutes later she was crying when the dusty gray car turned in and she climbed in the back.
At least for a while she had been under my personal protection.
Some parents are just assholes.
(Note: re-posted as requested)
Stephen
My shop is located on a very busy street across from a large city park. Her school bus stops on the corner.
My last customer had just walked out the door when I saw her walk to the corner and slump against the chain link fence.
Thirty minutes later she was still there. I know why it bugged me. She isn't much older than my granddaughter, and my little one is my heart.
So, I stood guard, walked outside. I conceal carry. She was safe.
Every few minutes she would stand and walk to the edge of the street and glance first one way then the other. Hoping, waiting. She, at least to me, appeared worried.
I have a bench in front of my shop. I tried to appear like an older man just taking a nap, when all I really wanted to do was walk over and give her a hug and tell her it was fine and I was sure mom or dad would be there soon, but you and I both know I couldn't do that.
Forty two minutes later she was crying when the dusty gray car turned in and she climbed in the back.
At least for a while she had been under my personal protection.
Some parents are just assholes.
(Note: re-posted as requested)
Stephen
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Random Books
I mentioned in a post I've cleaned my office in an attempt to remove clutter. In the process I unearthed a pile of books. A few minutes ago I said to myself, "Boy, you need to remove this pile to a better location." Yeah, right.
Here are a few of the titles that sit around my desk, just the ones I can reach...I know, eclectic doesn't begin to describe my taste.
A Random Walk Down Wallstreet, Burton G. Malkiel - bet the loonies up there would love this one.
Freakonomics, Levitt and Dubner - ditto.
Galatoire's, Biography of a Bistro, Marda Burton and Kenneth Holditch - so sue me.
Libertarianism in One Lesson, David Bergland - a gift.
Jesus Out to Sea, James Lee Burke - read it, it's good.
(I will not list the gunny books, if I did this would be a six page post)
Trophy Hunt, C. J. Box - Okay read...but light.
The Forgotten Soldier, Sajer - darn fine read but depressing as hell.
John Adams, David McCullough - big hit a few years back and a good read.
Slouching Toward Nirvana, new poems, Charles Bukowski - again, sue me, I've always been a fan of Bukowski. He was real. If you haven't read him, well, it's an acquired taste.
Saving Freedom, Jim Demint - a gift and as of now unread. Give me time.
Dead Six, Larry Correia and Mike Kupari - new and my next read.
Age of Darkness, edited by Christian Dunn - go figure.
A Feast of Crows, George R. R. Martin - it's been here a while.
Out of the Ashes, William W. Johnstone - The first of his 'Ashes' series. If you read this series, and its not bad, limit it to the first three or four and forget about it.
Fire In the Ashes, see above.
Holy Bible - do I really need to explain this one. If so, get a life.
A Land Remembered, Patrick D. Smith - Florida stuff.
A Storm of Swords, George R. R. Martin - not a big fan, but his writing is excellent.
The Ultimate Hitchhiikers Guide to The Galaxy, Douglas Adams - I understand this book has a few fans.
Modern World Gold Coins, standard catalog of - One can never be too careful.
Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand - my copy is a first printing dated 1957 and is about worn out. If you haven't at least tried to read this book - well my friend, I'm sorry, but when you awaken in the morning please check outside and see how many moons you're able to count...
Foreign Enemies and traitors, Matthew Bracken - a very good book written by a very nice man. He lives just a few miles south of me...give it a try.
Appetite For Life, Noel Riley Fitch, The biography of Julia Child - Hey, I like to cook and she was the master.
Enough, like I said these are but a few that clutter my desk.
What have you in your private little room?
Stephen
Here are a few of the titles that sit around my desk, just the ones I can reach...I know, eclectic doesn't begin to describe my taste.
A Random Walk Down Wallstreet, Burton G. Malkiel - bet the loonies up there would love this one.
Freakonomics, Levitt and Dubner - ditto.
Galatoire's, Biography of a Bistro, Marda Burton and Kenneth Holditch - so sue me.
Libertarianism in One Lesson, David Bergland - a gift.
Jesus Out to Sea, James Lee Burke - read it, it's good.
(I will not list the gunny books, if I did this would be a six page post)
Trophy Hunt, C. J. Box - Okay read...but light.
The Forgotten Soldier, Sajer - darn fine read but depressing as hell.
John Adams, David McCullough - big hit a few years back and a good read.
Slouching Toward Nirvana, new poems, Charles Bukowski - again, sue me, I've always been a fan of Bukowski. He was real. If you haven't read him, well, it's an acquired taste.
Saving Freedom, Jim Demint - a gift and as of now unread. Give me time.
Dead Six, Larry Correia and Mike Kupari - new and my next read.
Age of Darkness, edited by Christian Dunn - go figure.
A Feast of Crows, George R. R. Martin - it's been here a while.
Out of the Ashes, William W. Johnstone - The first of his 'Ashes' series. If you read this series, and its not bad, limit it to the first three or four and forget about it.
Fire In the Ashes, see above.
Holy Bible - do I really need to explain this one. If so, get a life.
A Land Remembered, Patrick D. Smith - Florida stuff.
A Storm of Swords, George R. R. Martin - not a big fan, but his writing is excellent.
The Ultimate Hitchhiikers Guide to The Galaxy, Douglas Adams - I understand this book has a few fans.
Modern World Gold Coins, standard catalog of - One can never be too careful.
Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand - my copy is a first printing dated 1957 and is about worn out. If you haven't at least tried to read this book - well my friend, I'm sorry, but when you awaken in the morning please check outside and see how many moons you're able to count...
Foreign Enemies and traitors, Matthew Bracken - a very good book written by a very nice man. He lives just a few miles south of me...give it a try.
Appetite For Life, Noel Riley Fitch, The biography of Julia Child - Hey, I like to cook and she was the master.
Enough, like I said these are but a few that clutter my desk.
What have you in your private little room?
Bits & Pieces
Chester Raccoon has ridden with us these last few mornings. Chester is Little Bit's new friend. A few weeks back I'd ordered her the series of books in which Chester and his mother serve as the main characters. She reads me one every day on our ride to school. Chester's a cool dude.
Anyway, when we reached the half-way mark of our ride, along the marshes of the river, Little Bit looks up from her book just in time to see a flock of Canada geese wing south as an even larger flock of seven or eight Herons fly north. It was beautiful, the contrast....she said, "Oh, Papa, look, an illustration from my books."
Never underestimate the intelligence of a child.
If you get a moment and have the time, click here: Penn Jillette gets it. - Imgur. This link was sent to me by my beautiful niece, Hannah. She's a bright and extremely conservative young woman. And, as you can tell she takes after me....thanks, Hannah, and now it's blush time...are your ready....I love you.
I'm sorry for the light posts of late, aside from the fact I've been preoccupied with other matters in my life, my computers mouse is giving me fits....about ready to sling it against the wall. Rusty, my computer geek, said I need to purchase a new one. I reminded him its almost brand new...said, "They don't last forever."
It's less than six months old. Guess they just don't make them like they used to, you know, back a year or so ago.
My office is all nice and clean again. Makes me feel like a new man....I can turn and not get whacked in the knee, twist an ankle, stumble over a box. Anyone want a batch of used brass....I found four sacks and a one pound coffee can full. I have brass up to my ears.
Hey, gotta run...business awaits, and I need to jerk another cup of coffee. Take care.
Stephen
Anyway, when we reached the half-way mark of our ride, along the marshes of the river, Little Bit looks up from her book just in time to see a flock of Canada geese wing south as an even larger flock of seven or eight Herons fly north. It was beautiful, the contrast....she said, "Oh, Papa, look, an illustration from my books."
Never underestimate the intelligence of a child.
If you get a moment and have the time, click here: Penn Jillette gets it. - Imgur. This link was sent to me by my beautiful niece, Hannah. She's a bright and extremely conservative young woman. And, as you can tell she takes after me....thanks, Hannah, and now it's blush time...are your ready....I love you.
I'm sorry for the light posts of late, aside from the fact I've been preoccupied with other matters in my life, my computers mouse is giving me fits....about ready to sling it against the wall. Rusty, my computer geek, said I need to purchase a new one. I reminded him its almost brand new...said, "They don't last forever."
It's less than six months old. Guess they just don't make them like they used to, you know, back a year or so ago.
My office is all nice and clean again. Makes me feel like a new man....I can turn and not get whacked in the knee, twist an ankle, stumble over a box. Anyone want a batch of used brass....I found four sacks and a one pound coffee can full. I have brass up to my ears.
Hey, gotta run...business awaits, and I need to jerk another cup of coffee. Take care.
Stephen
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)