Good morning, my friends. Yes, I made it back safe and sound - sore too. It was fun, tiring, and since we completed our objectives, satisfying.
The weather out at the Boar's Nest was cool and windy. Perfect weather for hard work. Our goal was to dig, by hand, a trench of 200 feet long, two and half feet deep (in one stretch, three foot) and place a power line and conduit inside and cover the trench in one day. I'm proud to say we completed the job within four hours. Four hard hours, but we did it.
As a simple explanation, the location of our Boar's Nest serves two purposes. It is a location for our group to gather and camp, shoot, and relax. Our firing range is within yards of a nice wild river. It is also our BOL if and when needed. As such we utilize redundant systems, a backup to a backup to a backup. The power line we installed this weekend is our second means of electrical backup. Our first is a gas operated generator with a hard wired panel. The third system will be solar. These systems take time - we use cash. A person asked me this weekend whey we didn't just rent a power tool to dig the trench. I said we have eight men and a boy....with shovels. We're frugal.
The weekend in pictures, in random order...warning, this post is picture heavy.
The trench. The pipe to the left is a ten foot section of conduit for the power line. The power line is forever known as The Modern Day Redneck power line. Our good friend, MDR, donated the wire for our installation. We've adopted him into our group. As old timers once said, he's family.
We hit water.
Above, Rebel sizes up the situation. We had to trench under the house. He's thinking, I'm slim so they'll make me do it. Rebel is one of the hardest working men I know....he's fine people and I'm proud to call him my friend. As a side note...to the left is our radio tower...it's on the list of things 'to do.'
This is ShooterSteve. He's a master electrician, and a valuable member of our group. Here he's prepping the MDR wire for removal and placement into the conduit. The one strand he holds measured two hundred and forty seven feet.
We had to dig one section of the trench under two sections of fence through a horse corral. Above, the conduit about to be placed into the trench.
ShooterSteve and Rebel as they pull wire through the conduit.
Above, the starting point of the trench, a nearby farm. Here's Duke (wearing the 1911) Rebel, with the young man in the forefront, William, and ShooterSteve, all hard at work on a gas line repair (yes, we cut it). I'm of course holding a shovel and camera. Duke has a unique gift...he can repair dust, torn trousers, tractors, children's toys...or severed pipes with ease.
Above, my friend Duke hard at work beginning the dig under the Boar's Nest.
We didn't work all weekend. Here's a shot of the guys on the firing range. Our friend, Senior, husband of Jacked Up Glock Mom, built us a rolling target stand. We had fun. Senior did a fine job. The stand is attached to a rope. Place rope in someone's hands, tell them to run....fast. Try and keep the front sight on the target and not the runner. All joking aside, the runner is well out of range....
This is Duke drawing a bead on the moving target...look closely to his right, just under his arm, see it in the distance...my camera doesn't do well on long range shots. The river is just beyond the trees. When the river floods it fills the background of the range. Then it's time for catfishing.
Tools of the trade. All these men are exceptional riflemen. You do not want them shooting at you. Each are veterans. Two of us with combat experience, including my friend Duke. Together, God help those that pose any threat to our families.
Just another picture of the range. It was a beautiful day. This is a pretty good shot of Senior's target stand. It has four tires and rolls fairly fast. It's a challenge at fifty yards - the sucker bounces.
Camp life at the Boar's Nest. In the foreground is ShooterSteve's tent...he snores. The fire bucket ready for a night of lies and yarns of old. To the right is our generator. ShooterSteve took a basic generator, donated to the group by Senior, and installed a marine stainless steel tank, 32 gallons worth, and made other improvements. On the far edge of the picture is the MDR deck table...
Just before sunset. Rebel relaxing with a cup of coffee. You know, any man that will refuse a cup of coffee, at any time of day, must be a damn communist. Nice fire. It will be two years, this April, since we began construction on the Boar's Nest. It's been hard sweaty work, but worth the effort.
Above, here is the most valuable man in the group. Please, may I introduce, Jim. Jim is our medic. He patches us up when we're hurt, which is quite often, makes us eat correctly, mends our souls, and is just an all around nice person. Like Duke once said, Jim has the biggest heart among us. I'm proud to call him friend. Before I forget, he's also our group secretary. He collects our funds, sets aside money for group projects and makes sure (along with Senior) that we make group stored food purchases. This month it's Winter Red Wheat. We would like to thank all of the nice people at our local LDS cannery for their help and kindness. Even though we're not members they treat us as such with grace and gentleness.
Another deck picture. I had to post this one of Rebel. He hates me to post his picture.
This is Senior, making breakfast. He did bacon, eggs, and grits. Did a fine job of it too.
Above, an American made kerosene lantern I found at a flea market last year. We use it on the deck at night as a reference point for when we visit the outhouse. Its tank holds plenty of fuel for a long nights burn.
Which has reading materials suitable to its purpose. All firearms related, by the way.
Here's ShooterSteve's fine craftsmanship. Notice he fabricated and installed a muffler. Soon we'll build a generator house and Shooter will wire our generator to a panel.
The fuel filter.
Nice work, isn't it. ShooterSteve, like Duke, can repair a drowned mouse.
And, last but not least, Rebel's 1986 Dodge van, beautifully restored. He sleeps in it....he likes his privacy you know....most of us sleep in the Boar's Nest. We're normal. To the right is ShooterSteve.
Thanks for your time. I hope to be able to get around to all my friends blogs today....can't promise. I've been away from my business for the last four days. I've much to do...Oh, I haven't the time to edit this post, so please, ignore my mistakes.
So, until then. God bless.
Stephen
Autumn

Monday, January 23, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
Out of Town
My good friends I have preps underway for a weekend in the boondocks. I'll join my friends in our group for some work on our Boar's Nest. We'll have some fun. There will be much lead slung down range, good food, a campfire and good conversation.
I've Little Bit with me today. She's out of school, so I'm about to take her to the park. It cool outside so she should have fun on a dead run...
All this to say - dead air ahead.
Until then have a nice weekend and stay safe. We'll be out there, on guard.
Stephen
I've Little Bit with me today. She's out of school, so I'm about to take her to the park. It cool outside so she should have fun on a dead run...
All this to say - dead air ahead.
Until then have a nice weekend and stay safe. We'll be out there, on guard.
Stephen
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Quiz
I just took this quiz. Scored perfect. It's a Pew Research quiz of only 13 questions. Only 8 percent have scored a perfect grade.
Most young people, and those pictured here, would fail.
How about you. Give it a shot and let me know how you scored.
It isn't hard, really.
H/T, PawPaw.
Stephen
Most young people, and those pictured here, would fail.
How about you. Give it a shot and let me know how you scored.
It isn't hard, really.
H/T, PawPaw.
Stephen
Heaven Continued; It's The Little Things
This morning she walked from her father's house into the cold air with a mile wide smile. Her hand held a small Christmas gift sack and shyly came to me, wrapped her little arms around mine and said, "Papa, I have a present for you."
What a nice way to begin my day. I said, "Thank you, Honey. I'll open it in the truck."
A few minutes later, on the road, I reached and took her gift. A DVD of Rudolf The Red Nosed Reindeer.
"Do you like it, Papa?" I said of course, thank you, what a nice and thoughtful present. She giggled, then became serious.
"Papa?"
"What, Honey."
"Will I be able to wear pretty clothes in Heaven?" She is such a girl...
Now, I'm thinking, in which direction will this conversation take us this morning, and I need Rev. Paul in the backseat for consultation.
She waits. Those big beautiful brown eyes search my face, her left hand holds mine. So, I give her the answer I know she wants, and in truth, deserves.
"Yes, My Love, you'll be able to wear all the pretty clothes you want in heaven."
Little squeal of delight...
Then, "And, Papa, will God lets me live in Candyland, too, I dreams about Candyland all the time, Papa."
I chuckled, and replied, "Honey, first of all, why did you ask about the pretty clothes?"
"Cause, Papa, I read my bible. And I asked my teacher about what angels wear and she said they were white things, and I asked if it was okay for me to wear my pink pajamas and she said she didn't know but thought it would be okay and Papa I almost didn't sleep all night 'cause I wants to wear my pink pajamas and not some stupid white thing, okay."
She takes a deep breath, cheeks pink. I see a traffic light ahead, and ease up on the speed; I can tell she isn't quite finished. Then, "Papa, will God love me as much as you, and will he wear his gun to take care of me from all the bad peoples like you do?"
Talk about your loaded question....
I thought for a moment, decided to take them in order. "Yes, God will allow you to live in Candyland. Little Bit, Heaven is a wonderful place. There is no fear, no pain, everyone is happy. God loves you, not sure if he loves you as much as Papa, but he indeed loves you. (Do not argue this point with me - I'd give my life for this child, as Jesus gave his for us.)
And Yes, Honey, you may wear your pink pajamas. Sweetheart, God is perfect, and God is all powerful, he doesn't need to wear a gun to protect you. Remember, in heaven people are nice. You'll always be safe in heaven."
We sit in silence for a few seconds, the morning bright. I glance over and she appears to be deep in thought. I make a preemptive strike.
"Little Bit." She's smiles and waits. "Why have you asked Papa about Heaven so much lately?"
In the blink of an eye, and before I have a chance to utter another word, she releases her seatbelt and climbs onto the console of the truck and wraps her arms around me. She squeezes me tightly, and then - "Papa, I read my bible, and it says we'll all be together in Heaven one day, and I worry about it, Papa."
In truth, she's afraid of the unknown.
"Little Bit."
She will not release me, and in fact is now softly repeating, "My Papa, my Papa, my Papa."
I gently kiss her, and tried again, "Sweetheart, please, snap your seatbelt. Honey, you need not worry about Heaven. It will be a very long time before we both go to Heaven. I'll always be here, Little Bit. Always."
I lied.
Rips my heart out.
(Post script) For those of you new to my blog, my grandchild, Little Bit, attends a private Christian school. She is six years old, and a bright little girl. She is also my heart.
To be continued, I'm certain.
Stephen
What a nice way to begin my day. I said, "Thank you, Honey. I'll open it in the truck."
A few minutes later, on the road, I reached and took her gift. A DVD of Rudolf The Red Nosed Reindeer.
"Do you like it, Papa?" I said of course, thank you, what a nice and thoughtful present. She giggled, then became serious.
"Papa?"
"What, Honey."
"Will I be able to wear pretty clothes in Heaven?" She is such a girl...
Now, I'm thinking, in which direction will this conversation take us this morning, and I need Rev. Paul in the backseat for consultation.
She waits. Those big beautiful brown eyes search my face, her left hand holds mine. So, I give her the answer I know she wants, and in truth, deserves.
"Yes, My Love, you'll be able to wear all the pretty clothes you want in heaven."
Little squeal of delight...
Then, "And, Papa, will God lets me live in Candyland, too, I dreams about Candyland all the time, Papa."
I chuckled, and replied, "Honey, first of all, why did you ask about the pretty clothes?"
"Cause, Papa, I read my bible. And I asked my teacher about what angels wear and she said they were white things, and I asked if it was okay for me to wear my pink pajamas and she said she didn't know but thought it would be okay and Papa I almost didn't sleep all night 'cause I wants to wear my pink pajamas and not some stupid white thing, okay."
She takes a deep breath, cheeks pink. I see a traffic light ahead, and ease up on the speed; I can tell she isn't quite finished. Then, "Papa, will God love me as much as you, and will he wear his gun to take care of me from all the bad peoples like you do?"
Talk about your loaded question....
I thought for a moment, decided to take them in order. "Yes, God will allow you to live in Candyland. Little Bit, Heaven is a wonderful place. There is no fear, no pain, everyone is happy. God loves you, not sure if he loves you as much as Papa, but he indeed loves you. (Do not argue this point with me - I'd give my life for this child, as Jesus gave his for us.)
And Yes, Honey, you may wear your pink pajamas. Sweetheart, God is perfect, and God is all powerful, he doesn't need to wear a gun to protect you. Remember, in heaven people are nice. You'll always be safe in heaven."
We sit in silence for a few seconds, the morning bright. I glance over and she appears to be deep in thought. I make a preemptive strike.
"Little Bit." She's smiles and waits. "Why have you asked Papa about Heaven so much lately?"
In the blink of an eye, and before I have a chance to utter another word, she releases her seatbelt and climbs onto the console of the truck and wraps her arms around me. She squeezes me tightly, and then - "Papa, I read my bible, and it says we'll all be together in Heaven one day, and I worry about it, Papa."
In truth, she's afraid of the unknown.
"Little Bit."
She will not release me, and in fact is now softly repeating, "My Papa, my Papa, my Papa."
I gently kiss her, and tried again, "Sweetheart, please, snap your seatbelt. Honey, you need not worry about Heaven. It will be a very long time before we both go to Heaven. I'll always be here, Little Bit. Always."
I lied.
Rips my heart out.
(Post script) For those of you new to my blog, my grandchild, Little Bit, attends a private Christian school. She is six years old, and a bright little girl. She is also my heart.
To be continued, I'm certain.
Stephen
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Duke
My best friend, Duke, has written an excellent article on how to handle the Nanny State's jackbooted thugs when they knock on your door and demand your personal firearms.
If you haven't as yet read the post, click here.
The comments are very revealing too. One hoople-head suggested you fight back....no, no, no. You will lose. Trust me.
Please, follow Duke's advice.
Then, read the above book.
Stephen
If you haven't as yet read the post, click here.
The comments are very revealing too. One hoople-head suggested you fight back....no, no, no. You will lose. Trust me.
Please, follow Duke's advice.
Then, read the above book.
Stephen
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Thanks & Welcome
What a nice, sweet name - Leigh. Leigh is my new friend and follower. She has a great blog with a homesteading theme titled 5 Acres & A Dream.
If you get over to her place quickly enough you'll be able to read about her new kitchen wood stove. Please, she'd like a visit. She's our kind of person.
Again, Leigh, thank you and welcome. You are now among friends.
Stephen
If you get over to her place quickly enough you'll be able to read about her new kitchen wood stove. Please, she'd like a visit. She's our kind of person.
Again, Leigh, thank you and welcome. You are now among friends.
Stephen
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