Autumn

Autumn

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Request from A Reader

Stephen,
The "specialists" sent my daughter home yesterday to wait on another still birth. She is 27 weeks pregnant. Sebastian has a hole in his heart and a nearly microscopic aorta. He grew one ounce in the past two weeks. Weighs 15 ounces. Needs surgery within 8 hours after birth. Boston (we live in NC)will do the surgery if he weighs 32 ounces. All other hospitals say 3 pounds. Specialists are convinced he is not going to make it. Please ask your readers to continue praying. We need a miracle. Continuing to pray for your full recovery. Glad you are well. Hugs and kisses (tho I know you give them freely and often!) to Little Bit.
Mammaw B
 
 Let's help....it's a baby after all. And, thanks.

Stephen

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Bits and Pieces

I took the day off yesterday. Didn't write a single word. Read most of the day. I'm sure many of you have got locked into a good novel and refused to set it aside...well, that's what happened. It felt good, too.

And, I must admit my laptop wasn't working very well...allowed Little Bit to use it to play computer games. When she gave it back she had surfed the Internet for on-line games and had downloaded so much junk my computer was next to worthless. I held my tongue. Took me several hours to clean out the mess. She clicked and downloaded two different tool bars...little booger.

My good friend, Duke dropped by the house this morning and we chatted and jawed for over an hour. Sure was a nice visit...I've missed him. We had a good talk. When my shop is open he'll drop by at a moments notice, jerk a cup of coffee, and we'll talk for hours. Since I've been stuck here at home for the last month he hasn't had the opportunity to just pop in on a moments notice. We spoke of many of our fellow bloggers - don't worry, he didn't bad mouth everyone....
He fled when the day nurse arrived. He's squeamish.

Oh, 45er, Duke dropped off the nice package...thank you very much for the nice gift. I'll tear into the jerky very soon. Like I said, I owe you one. 

Isn't this gun blog community filled with nice people. During my illness I received some wonderful support and many very nice gifts. I've received beautiful homemade candy from my friend PISSED and his lovely wife. A bag of coffee beans - some of the best coffee I've had in many years, from my buddy, mmasse that lives in my favorite state, Idaho, and so many other nice gestures I've lost count. Thank you all very much. Like I said above, I owe each of you one...if help is needed, just yell.



A few days ago one of the nurses arrived with a drippy nose. Didn't wear her mask. My immune system, now, is very compromised. Guess what. I haven't had a good nights sleep in two days. Cough all damn night. So as not to disturb Sweet Wife's sleep I left the bed this morning at 0200, made a pot of tea and sat and drank about six cups, with honey, to ease my affection. Fell asleep in my chair about 0500. Long night. Little Bit asked me way I 'looked funny,' this morning. Gave her my story.

"Papa."

"What, Honeybun."

"You can have one of my teddybears, it'll help you sleep, Papa."

You've just got to love little girls.

   
Now, if you'll excuse me I've many comments to answer and a good novel to read. I'll see you good folks later.

By the way, the nurse said I should be released this coming weekend. I can smell the cordite.

Stephen

Sunday, February 26, 2012

For kymber

As requested.

Chili under construction:






kymber, also notice my nice old Corning Ware percolator on the flames...my drip pot went kaput. Guess I'll need to drink good coffee from here on out.


Stephen

Sunday Morning

It's chilly and wet here today. Time for me to build a chili which I shall tackle as soon as the day nurse leaves this morning. Sweet Wife told me to and I always obey her.

Sorry for not posting yesterday but we took a quick trip to St. Augustine. Little Bit needed new school shoes and other feminine items. Seems too my wife needed a break from her routine and she can only find rescue by spending cash.

I had talk with my nurse yesterday, dropped to my knees and begged to be released from prison. I need to return to work; open my shop. She said, maybe. Next week. I said, think I'll just sneak out and spend a little time at the office. She said if you do you'll lose all your insurance coverage. Jesus wept. Like I've said, what they don't know won't hurt them. My shop will be opened next week. Screw 'em.

Think I'll tackle Brigid's brownies today too.



Have a great day and I'll see you later.

Stephen

Friday, February 24, 2012

In The Quiet of The Night

The young couple rented the old two story house with a roof of hundred year old cedar shingles. The house was located just off the main street of a small town. Their bedroom faced the street, and they were happy with the large double paned window with its view of the mountains and Puget Sound. The young man was home on leave.

The young couple were in bed and they were warm and had only light from the few cars that passed in the late hours and the young man enjoyed the way the light passed through the window for it gave him a show as it reflected off the snowflakes. He was content and had great plans.

The young man held his beautiful wife close and he enjoyed the scent of her; all fresh and clean with just a touch of perfume. She knew he liked it and had taken great pains for this reunion.

She moved to a sitting position and bent and kissed him and he liked the way her long hair tickled his chest. Outside, the wind sent out a gust and their wind chimes beat a steady rhythm. She wrapped the blankets over her slim form and then said, "The test was positive."


The young man felt his stomach knot and visions of lost dreams danced over his mind. "Are you sure? Maybe they're wrong."

She giggled. "No, it's true. Aren't you happy for us."

He reached and placed his hand on her arm, gave it a little squeeze, then brushed her beautiful face. He gently pulled her down and held and kissed her. The old house creaked under the wind's force and the snow gave a show of white streaked lines on the wavy glass of their window.

He whispered to her, "We're so young."

"I know. But if not now when? We have the store and your career. We'll manage."

Over the last year, in between his duty assignments, they'd traveled the state and searched out old pieces of furniture, antiques, and the young man took great care to refinish the pieces. They'd rented a store front in the small towns main street and were fairly successful for their effort.

 He had other plans too. The young man wanted a home of their own and had made an offer on the Victorian he'd found that sat high on a hill with views of the mountains and had a cold wild stream where the seasonal salmon migrations filled it bank to bank. And, he had hobbies. How would he have the time to roam the mountains, rifle in hand, or afford his books, or fish the wild run of Steelheads, or bird hunt the fall season.

"You still with me?"

"Yes," the young man said. "I'm still here."

The young woman read his face in spite of the darkness. She cried.

A week later the young man parked his truck across from the clinic. Curbside was a local schools playground and as he stepped from the truck he noticed the little ones run and play and swing; they were happy and he smiled and even then his resolve was strong and firm. He focused on one little girl as she pushed her swing to skirt flapping height, her giggles filled the air with joy and he didn't really care.

He walked around and helped his beautiful wife step down and took her arm and walked her inside. The older nurse gave him a firm look and took her from him. He waited.

Afterwards she stepped into the room and he rose, all gentlemanly like, to take her arm and she brushed it away and said, "It's done. I'm empty."

Only then did he feel the shame of it. Only then did it hit him of what he'd forced, and that time only moves one way and what is lost can never be returned.

The young man helped his wife back into the truck and walked to the other side. The playground was empty too. The only movement was the gentle sway of the swings in the wind.

Stephen
 

Thursday, February 23, 2012

I Want

Confession here....if I weren't already married to my Sweet Wife, and if I were single and say ten years younger, I'd ride to Canada and find Laura Calder and drag her back to my lair and make her mine.

I mean, the lady just made duck confit. 

Let's face it. We all have our fantasies.

Stephen

The Dragunov Saga

Began late last night when my cell rang...I answered, even though the number was unfamiliar.

"Hey, are you Stephen?"

"Yes, how may I help...." He cuts me off with, "Hey, listen. My buddy said you'd buy this rifle."

Like that...


I said, "Back up a moment. First, what's your friends name?"

"Billy Bob."

I searched my memory for any Billy Bob's I might or might not know and came up empty. In the mean time he's still running his mouth. He made mention of where and how he'd met this so called common friend of ours. He continued, "Yeah, man, it's a real good deal and he said you buy it."

"What exactly are you trying to sell?"

"Okay," all breathless, "What I got here is a 7.62x54 Dragunov with a 24 inch barrel with a 8x42 pro mildot scope and two hundred rounds of ammunition and two ten round magazines."

I asked, "What price, not that I'm interested, you understand?"

Long pause.

"Okay, here's the deal. I need $1,350.00 for it."

Immediately I came back with, "No. But thanks for the offer."

Then, "Are you nuts. Hey, man, this is a great sniper rifle. Hey, man, my friend said you'd buy it."

"He isn't my friend. Besides, there's no profit margin in your price."

That one threw him for a loop. For a moment I thought I'd lost the connection and was about to hit the button when, "Ah, what 'ya mean man."

"Just what I said. There's little to zero profit in this deal. I have no desire to add this rifle to my personal collection; it's worthless for practical applications, although fun to shoot. But for me, it's useless. Kinda like tits on a boar."

Silence.

"What will you give me for it. Give me a break, man. Make me an offer."

I thought about it for a nano-second, then said, "Five hundred, and you keep the ammo."

He yelled a few curse words in my direction. I cut it short. He regained his composure and continued.

"Is your cell able get text?"

"Yes, even out here in the sticks of rural River City this Blackberry has the capability to accept text."

"Okay, sure man. Then what if I send you a couple of pictures. Will you think on it?"

I gave it a two beat, and said, "Sure, send them. And, by the way. I don't just purchase every weapon sent my way. I'm funny like that, do you understand, and furthermore, my name isn't, man."

He sent this.


I'm still not a buyer.

Stephen