Tuesday, January 31, 2012

My Window

To the world gives me a view of the river and the endless sky and the thousands upon thousands of vehicles in an unbroken stream that moves from east to west and beyond. This window is my distraction as they clean and remove the dead tissue.

I count recreational vehicles. During today's session, as the nice man worked, I lost count at fifty one.

He'd look up and say, "Are you okay?"

"Sure." Then relax my grip. The nice man took my hand and said, "I know it hurts."

I asked, "Have you experienced this too?"


I went back to the view from my window.


Still Alive

This will probably be a very quick note. Please understand I am under the influence of a mess of heavy drugs. I am still located on the sixth floor of a major medical center/hospital. This is the first opportunity I've had to connect to the internet, and a mind clear enough to use it.

I want to (thinking here) say 'thank you' to all my dear friends for your outpouring of love and concern for my health. Thank you all for your prayers. They worked.

Long story short, my Sweet Wife saved my life last Friday night, the 27th of January. The surgeon, after a quick glance at my 'wound' told us I had about six hours to live. He told us either allow him to cut, or else. Guess what I said....anyway, luck and my wife were on my side. I'll explain/tell my story later, or not. I'm unsure at the moment.

I'll be here for a while, hopefully not long.

Gotta run, they're here with their whips and chains.

Update: I will post a proper thanks and welcome to my new followers as soon as the meantime, God bless you and welcome.

Again, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Thanks & Welcome

To my new friend, Bill. I promise, my friend, to answer any comments. It might take me a few hours, or days, but trust me I'll reply.

Bill has a nice blog and business here. Bill teaches firearms training. Take a look and say hello, please. He's one of us.

Again, thanks and welcome Bill. You are now among friends.


Quick Note

I'm home for the day. Thank the Good Lord for none narcotic pain medication. Movement isn't on my agenda, it hurts.

I want to thank all of you for the kind comments. I'll be fine.

On the bright side I should be able to make a dint in my book stack. Two to three arrive every week but with my work schedule and the normal interruptions of life it's difficult to stay ahead of the deliveries.

Until then.


Wednesday, January 25, 2012


The doctor asked me to drop my trousers. At the top of my left leg is a swollen hard red knot about the size of two softballs. Doc said, "Wow."

Then he said, "Bet it hurts." Doctors, I understand, are considered intelligent.

Bottom line, I'm sicker than I first thought. I'm on three antibiotics, one shot into my hip.

All I want to do is sleep.

I'll live.


Bits & Pieces

I feel my age this morning. I hurt. Somehow within the last few days I've caught an infection. The doctors office awaits. Anyway, I'm sure the doctor will prescribe one of his miracle pills and by the end of the week I'll feel like my old self.

According the the calendar it's winter here in Florida. It lies. Warm and humid out this morning. Fog as thick as cotton candy. I hate it. We've had, maybe, three days of winter this season. Climate change, don't 'ya know.

I came in this morning with an idea for a long post. Not gonna happen. Maybe tomorrow, or tonight. Just can't get comfortable. Mild headache.

Rambling, aren't I. Sorry.

There is an outside chance Little Bit's mother, her birth mother, will visit on Little Bit's birthday next month. That is if the stars are in alignment, the earth's crust doesn't shift, and purple rain showers develop out over the Gulf of Mexico. Little Bit hasn't seen her mother in over three years, so I'm not sure how I feel about this visit. What effect will it have on my grandchild when she has to say, goodbye.

Her mother has promised so much over the years and, as is her way, failed. She never follows through. This hurts Little Bit. I hope this isn't another. Little Bit is so excited. Her mother called Sweet Wife a couple of nights back and her mother and Little Bit spoke for close to an hour. She asked what kind of cake Little Bit wanted for her party. They spoke of gifts. Her time of arrival and by which means. Little Bit was jumping up and down with glee. Her mother lives in North Carolina. She has her problems, which we pray she will someday overcome. She really is a sweet person. But, she has her demons.

There is a hole in Little Bits' heart. It needs to be filled. I'm just not sure her mother is capable.

Sorry for the sad tone this morning. Like I said, I don't feel very well.


Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Get Off Your Fat...

butt and take the child to school. Then, return and escort her home, Dad. You sorry piece of sh*t...

H/T Paladin


Thanks & Welcome

I seem to have a  recurring problem with the 'follower' thingamajig. I have four nice people which I need to say thank you and welcome but I'm missing one name. Please, whomever you are, if you'll leave a comment with your name I'll take a moment and properly say thanks and welcome. It's important to me.

Now, thank you, Caterina Serra, and to Walter Zoomie, and last but certainly not least to Hobo. Both Walter and Hobo have very interesting blogs. Take a moment and drop by and say hello.

To all of you, I promise to reply to all comments.

Update: My thanks to tiwimon and DFW. If there are any others, please let me know.

Again, thank you and welcome. You are now among friends.


God Bless The Children; A Prayer Request

Beth has left a new comment on your post "Heaven Continued; It's The Little Things":

Stephen, I follow your blog tho I have not become a "friend" yet as I am just not sure how its done! Very techo illiterate. Have also responded to your posts about the love of grandparents. Anyway, I have a serious daughter and her husband blessed us with a wonderful granddaughter Natalie. They went on to have a stillborn son, Blaise, at 34 weeks (whom we still grieve for three years later) followed by 13 miscarriages. my daughter is now 22 weeks pregnant with our grandson Sebastian. Yesterday, we found out that our precious little one is in serious danger and needs to reach a certain birthweight to be delivered so drs can address other issues. Essentially, he has stopped growing so reaching that weight will take a miracle. I know how deeply you care for your grandchildren. You know, thru my posts, mine. Please help me to spread the word that Sebastian needs prayers. Serious prayers. As do my daughter, son-in-law, and my granddaughter who is old enough to be devistated by the loss of another little brother. Please pray with us, ask other grandparents to pray that another precious little one will survive and bring so much love, joy, and hope to his family. Thanks.

Beth, as requested. My friends, please keep this baby in your prayers.


Monday, January 23, 2012

The Weekend

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 the left is our radio'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 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 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.


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.


Thursday, January 19, 2012


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.


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.


"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.


Wednesday, January 18, 2012

And, So It Begins



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, no, no. You will lose. Trust me.

Please, follow Duke's advice.

Then, read the above book.


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.


Bits & Pieces

I've been dead in the water all morning. Just now have my internet connection back. This time around the company replaced my old modem. I can tell it will be one of those days.

The weather here is awful, bright and sunny, warm...I just hate this kind of weather. Our forecast held some good news - rain tomorrow. It's about time.

On the ride to school this morning, Little Bit had a deck of Uno cards. She said she'd had to 'sneak' them out of her dad's house. When she removed the cards from her pack I asked, "Why?"

She put a shy smile on her face and replied, "So we can play cards on our ride, Papa."

"Oh, well that's nice, Sweetheart, but Papa must drive and stay alert."

She laughed. Then, "It's okay, Papa. I'll play your hand for you."

A few minutes later, "Papa, you lose, I won."

So I repeated her last back, "I lost, really?"

"Yes, Papa."

"Did you cheat?"

"Papa, I'd never cheat, but I kinda knew you'd lose before I dealt the cards."

She is a sneaky little booger....


Thanks & Welcome

To my new friend and follower, Becky. She writes the self-sufficiency blog, Simple Self Sufficiency. Becky, I promise to always reply to your comments.

I ask my other friends, please, when you find a few free moments, stop by Becky's blog and say hello. She's a sweet Georgia peach.

Becky, again, thank you and welcome. You are now among friends.


Monday, January 16, 2012


It's been nice to have an extra day off. Problem is when I have time like this, in the quiet, I buy stuff. Sigh.

Books, specifically.

I have a weakness for food themed books. 'Honey from Weeds.'

Amazon has gotten stingy with their book cover photos, sorry. 'Nobody Knows The Truffles I've Seen.'

Give 'em a try.


What's For Dinner

This house sure smells good.

This is one reason.

And here's the other, Chili preps  It's been on a slow simmer all day.

Damn few Swedes and no Norwegians eat this well.



Since the birth of this blog I've avoided the subject of politicians and politics as much as possible. This morning however I've been backed into the corner, so to speak.

Over breakfast Sweet Wife broached the evils of our so called representatives. She asked why I never wrote of their lack of leadership and the resulting consequences of their reluctance to correct the apparent problems of this country. The subject of this nation's depreciating currency, debt, failing infrastructure, and moral values were the bulk of the conversation. 

For the most part I remained silent. She likes to talk. Finally she asked my opinion. and why I never post my thoughts on politics. It's simple, I said, because we're screwed and there is very little we can do to change the outcome of our future, other than of course, utilization of our vote.

I continued, there are countless bloggers with far more time on their hands than I, writing their thoughts with keen wit and insight, plugged into well establish audiences. I am but a flea on the butt of humanity. Now, having said that, I told her I'd write one post, and one post only, and give my opinion of politicians in today's America.

Ready, they're worthless.

When this country was founded, with its freshly minted Constitution, we had people representation. The local village elders would gather and walk out to Farmer Brown's field where he stood behind his mule and say, hey, Farmer Brown, pack your bags, you're taking a trip to the capital. The elders gave Farmer Brown a list of instructions, issues, with notes on how to vote. His vote (here comes that big word) represented the community. A people's representative. Simple. You ask what has changed....and here is the crux of the problem we have today, as I'm sure you're very much aware.

Back when Farmer Brown voted he packed his tote, mounted his horse, and rode back to the farm and placed his butt back behind the mule. He was a farmer. Not a career professional politician.

Now, your so-called representative, in either house of the Congress, no more represents you than the coffee table before me. Every decision they make, every vote they cast, is based upon 'how will this reflect on my reelection.' Period.  He's a professional, pure and simple, and until that day, when we return to that basic system of government - which I fear we'll never see again, you my good friend, are on your own.

This is the last, I hope, I'll ever write on the subject.


Sunday, January 15, 2012

Thanks & Welcome

To my new friend and follower, David, writer of the very intelligently written blog, Musings Over A Pint. David, welcome, and I promise to reply to any and all comments.

I again ask all my other friends to run over and visit David's nice blog. He writes in a clear and concise style about all that is good in life; food, guns, and food, and did I mention firearms, family, faith and kind of man. Like I've said before, any man that doesn't cook is about as useless as tits on a bull.
Again, thanks and welcome, David.

You are now among friends.


I Hope

For a quiet day of books, maybe a walk around the yard, perhaps a nap, coffee with, I hope, pastries. A day of peace and quiet. I'll be satisfied with a warm fire, a lap cat, my Sweet Wife gently singing in the background as I read the Sunday paper. I hope for an hour or so to lightly caress - one of my firearms.

I hope, my friends, the same for you.

If we're lucky, maybe late this afternoon, a cup of hot chocolate.

Take care.


Help Me Thank You

I open my laptop this morning to find my follower count indicates I've gained another member. Problem is I haven't a clue as to who you are which makes it impossible to give proper thanks.

This might just be a Blogger or Goggle mistake...or not. So if you're my new follower please help me thank you.