Literature

Some of you I'm sure seldom read and that is fine...sad, but fine. I cannot live without the written word, period.

If you indeed enjoy the quiet moments alone with the great authors of our time you will find this of interest.

On the other hand if your inclination is to exclaim out loud, "That sure is a thick book," on the rare occasion you actually find yourself in close proximity to a library - never mind.


Stephen

Soft Light

One of my readers, Linda, left a comment and asked if the old hurricane lantern pictured in my last post was mine....and in so doing she reminded me I do need to throw a container in the back of my truck. I want another five gallons of kerosene for my oil lamps. Hurricane season is just around the bend.

We own dozens of oil lamps (kerosene) and keep the lamps scattered thru out the house. There are miniature lamps, and huge very old lamps of all shapes and sizes and all have nice trimmed wicks that give gentle bright light. The lamps have proven their worth on many a dark rainy night when the winds roar and trees fall.

Between our home generator and the lamps and various forms of flashlights (torches to you good folks in Great Britain and Ireland) we're able to survive the storms without busted knee caps and broken bones.

I haven't the time at present to dive into great detail but suffice it to say if you're a novice prepper (survivalist) hit the garage sales and snatch the good offerings...if the brass works screw into the base, its a good one, and probably very old. If the wick works screw onto the base its still good but not high quality. I'm not sure when the manufacturing techniques changed but I'm sure someone will inform us.

Pictured, four oil lamps from Google files. Not mine.

Aladdin made some wonderful lamps. And hey, don't forget the wicks.

That is all.

Stephen

The Sound of Rain

Has a wonderfully soothing quality, doesn't it.

This evening I believe I'll put my feet to rest and read by lamplight, but not before I search Ebay for a vintage leather holster for one of my favorite handguns. Wish me luck. 

This rain is nice indeed.

Goodnight, my friends.

Stephen

Double Dose

My favorite brand of cereal sat there in all its glory with a flag which read, gluten free.

The stores taped music station played scratchy sixties rock transformed into 'put me to sleep while I walk' nonsense tunes. Older women and snap card recipients strolled the aisles with their elbows firmly planted atop the store carts as if each and every step would be their last. The gluten free thing bugged the hell out of me.

The little girl in the green store vest came close as she used her inventory ray gun. She snapped scans of scans, and left pleasant trails of perfume in her wake. I reached out, said, "Hey, what's happened to my cereal? Its been highjacked," or words to that effect.

"Huh?" I could see we were off to great start.

I tried once more, "Have you this cereal," I pointed, "Unaltered from its original form?"

"Ah, I don't know. Like, what do 'ya mean?" Such a bright girl, wonderful girl.

Play time. "Please, dear pretty girl, is it possible for you or either management to please check your inventory for this particular brand of cereal in its original package, unaltered, with its everyday hundred year flavor, texture, and if it isn't to much of a bother, I'd like extra, extra, double-dosed gluten. I like gluten...it's the gluey aftertaste I so much appreciate...the way it mingles with the whole  milk, it really kick starts my mornings. Really, do you believe it possible?"

Her little brown eyes expand. She takes a half-step back and gets all Baptist on me with, "Oh, my God. That stuff will kill you. Why do you think they put 'Gluten Free' on the box. You really shouldn't eat that stuff."

Such a cute little booger, wonderful child. Me, all smiles with, "Like egg yolks....."

"Ah."

"And, sausage, and bacon?"

"Duh, oops, er..."

"May I ask, please little one - what exactly is gluten?"

"I don't know, kinda like a chemical...?"

I just stood there, slumped shouldered and with a pretend sad smile on my face. "No, dear girl, its basically a gluey substance made from wheat, and/or barley and rye. It appears the American liberal media and the hoard which presently occupy the White House has convinced the general public that to even sniff a gluten's tail will give you cancer and turn your tallywacker white. And, sadly otherwise intelligent people have convinced themselves it's true. But, that's fine. The government has folks dead set against animal fats too....takes all kinds."

For some strange reason she took another step, back. Odd girl indeed.

I took the box of Cheerios, flipped the crap in my grip, leaned close and said, "Bet you hate guns and puppy dogs too."

Stephen


 

Pure Capitalism

I just placed two inexpensive rifle scopes out for sale with a handwritten note, 'For sale, $20.00 each or two for $50.00.'

Sometimes you just place the bait and wait for the first tug - then set the hook.

I should be ashamed of myself...

Stephen

On the Road

She's on the cell to her mother when I hear, "I'll leave Thursday, early."  I flip the newspaper aside and throw a long look in her direction - one of those, 'Huh, what 'da heck did you just say,' kinda looks, like that...

Her mother, again. Bless her heart she's headed back to Atlanta, land of the democritter, for another examination. My lovely wife will drive. She leaves this morning. I packed her SUV. She has water, blankets, a nice first aid kit, tools, flashlight, maps (Remember maps?) and her Get Home Bag, and of course, personal protection. Hey, it's a long drive to Crittersville.

Here's the thing - she asked for a second handgun, and not just any handgun. She wanted a revolver. And, she wanted me to spread a lap quilt on our coffee table and explain, again, how to load the magazines and operate her little Ruger LCP. So I jog to the firearms safe and remove a little Smith & Wesson Ladysmith .38 (Model 60), a nice little handgun. I slipped five Plus P's inside.

Twenty minutes later she's comfortable with the Elsiepea. She's slapping those magazines home like a pro. Me, all proud of her and stuff....

Asked her, "When do you cease fire?"

"The moment the booger ceases to moan."

Good girl.

I explained the need of practical footwear, socks, and a heavy jacket or coat. I know....I do tend to get carried away with the prep stuff, but remember, she's my wife and I'm kinda attached and very fond of her, and let's not forget her elderly mother. The LadySmith is for Mom - the 'Ole Girl is good with a revolver.

Each of my girls will hump full boxes of ammunition. When asked why I threw in the spare ammo I just turned to her and said, "Hey, Zombies."

Be careful out there....

Stephen

For Your Listening Pleasure

Just a quick one here...

In my last post I mentioned my nighttime radio activities, how I enjoy shortwave....thought I post this link for your listening pleasure.

Primetime Shortwave. It's a very helpful guide and has most frequency listings. I always check the last update and print. This is a private endeavor so if you've the means and enjoy global shortwave broadcast and the QSL card collecting hobby - throw the man a bone.

Gotta run. The bell, she rings.

Stephen