Next in Line

My reading habits seem to be stuck in a rut. The next few evenings will be spent with Simon Garfield's, 'We Are At War.'

I need to ask our friend, drjim, to please identify the 'wireless' in the upper hand left corner of this dust jacket.


Stephen

Note

When I walked in here, my office, I had a post about QSL cards in mind....

Business will not allow.

We have a beautiful day, warm and sunny.

I've also noticed my shop has been invaded by a swarm of sewer flies...nasty little sonsofbitches....

Later,

Stephen

What's For Dinner

Tonight it's chicken.

For the recipe, click here.

Although, I'd prefer yellow rice.

Stephen

This, Sign

I stepped from the car to stretch my legs. Sweet Wife had asked me to stop so she could grab a few items on our way home. I was tired of the wait.

Then I noticed this, thing, this sign.

I'm not sure why it bugged me. My first thought was, big deal. Other nations of our world have posted signs in several languages for many years. In truth our country has been a lone holdout. It's only within the last thirty years (other than South Florida) the practice has become commonplace.

Yet, if my grandfather were alive today he'd flip. Yes, big overreaction....still. I hate it.

Talk amongst yourselves.

Stephen

A Tidbit

She's gone. Walked out a few minutes ago for her Sunday service. Quiet now. The rain has been pushed eastward by a westerly cold front. The house, for at least two hours, is all mine.

I've promised to drive her north after her church service. There are flowers to be placed on her father's grave, antique shops to explore, and a seafood lunch. Should be a nice day.

Our drive will take us along the river which gives over to the sea. We'll cross many marshy creeks and tidal flats.

 I like the drive. There are always hawks and eagles to count. Perhaps we'll stop for a bag of boiled peanuts, a cold Coke, if she likes.

After a few minutes at the cemetery we'll have lunch. I shall insist on my side of fried oysters covered in deep red hot sauce. The tangy salty taste should hold me for a few hours. Then, the stroll of shops. She loves to 'antique.' I don't mind as long as the little caves hold a few manly items.

Things that catch and hold my interest are - bits and pieces of war memorabilia, books, old radios, stock certificates, any firearm related pieces, high quality knives, and vintage male clothing (last year I found a great world war two leather jacket), old hand tools, and believe it or not, unique cook books.

Her, all the other stuff.

I spent most of yesterday with my two shortwave radios. Reception (skip) was awful. Cuba, no problem. Europe, not so much. Even with my slinky antenna deployed on my Grundig I felt my time wasted. Sadly when I set out my beautiful Zenith Trans-Oceanic I discovered my thirty-one meter button stuck. Darn near cried.

More on the radios later.

The birds are singing to me. Their music soothes the soul.  Many years ago we both awoke within seconds of each the other and stayed in place within our warm bed. It was a clear cool Sunday morning, much like today, and quiet in the house. The birds, just outside our bedroom window, were clear and loud, their songs almost translucent.

She turns to me and asked, "Isn't it beautiful."

"Yes," I said. "But not uncommon on a Sunday."

She gave me an explain yourself expression. So I said, "It's God's plan.The birds always gather to sing us a beautiful song each and every Sunday morning."

As I've written, my straight face is world renown...

But, you know what.... prove me wrong.

I close to the music of a Mocking Bird, bright and clear; a tidbit of joy.


Later.

Stephen

Rain

Early this morning the alarm screamed at me. I turned and hit the snooze button and waited. I had a tremendous headache and the sound of rain and wind was unmistakeably clear.

On Saturdays I open the shop an hour early which meant I had only minutes to rise and shower and drive the distance. I fought the urge. The headache increased in its intensity.

I've taken the day off. My guilt is heavy.

This is our third day of solid, and I mean, continuous downpours. Some areas of our county have recorded ten inches.

After I climbed from bed I had two text, from my group friends, asking if I felt our Boar's Nest might not be in danger of flood waters. Even my friend, Senior, camped in South Carolina sent concern. I replied, not sure.

If so we'll deal with the problem. Mother nature doesn't ask our permission. 

I shall take the day to relax. There are books to be read, silver to shine, meals to prepare, and a couple of handguns in need of bore wipes, and of course, your blogs that require my attention.

Guess what....I have webbed toes.

Stephen

Just Keep Your Mouth Shut

It's probably the best advice I can give...myself.

Why doesn't this surprise me. Give special attention to the 'call us if you know someone that hates the government' stuff.

How long before they offer a reward for our heads.

Stephen