Blah...

Blah....it's how I feel. Just plain old simple, blah. I've been on my feet all day, they hurt....blah. I'm home and can't read because of this stupid idiotic music program my wife loves and I can't say a word....blah, blah, blah.

I'm too tired to work on my projects...blah. Get it.

Maybe I should take a seat in the garage, raise the door and sit and just listen, perhaps the owls will sing, one to the other. If I'm lucky there will be a salt marsh breeze off the river with the scent of mud and marsh grass and fiddler crabs. Maybe a stray raccoon will amble inside and keep me company; it happens, they beg for food. There's a chance a possum will join them...I have hand fed a possum. It was little and took the food delicately from my fingertip as if a gift from angels.

Here I sit with the smell of turpentine and distilled alcohol. It's warm out here under the oaks and the stars bright. Spring in Florida. Next weekend I will sit next to a fire truly under the stars and if I'm lucky I will hear the song of whippoorwills and coyotes and watch deer feed by headlight. If God is good He'll provide rain which will dance a magic tune on the old metal roof of our bunkhouse and I'll sleep as if death has taken me. Rainfall on a tin roof should only be experienced by those appreciative of the Lord's wonderful outdoors.

Others will sit about the fire. My friends. Good men. We'll talk well into the night...cigars will glow after a good oak grilled chunk of beef. Steaks fit for men. Coffee, always. Gentle talk, as is fit for the quiet of the woods. I will sit quietly, as is my way, and listen to these men of leather and iron. I'll listen as they clear their throats and sip the coffee and lie about adventures so many years in the past, and true tails of world traveled weary men in service to our country. I'll listen with half an ear but my vision will be captured by that night sky from where I sit in my chair under the pines and oaks, and I may even drift quietly out into the darkness to the waters edge and lose myself and escape this world of blah.

Sorry, I tend to ramble...

Stephen

Distraction

It's a bit after noon and finally I have my first break of the day. Isn't capitalism wonderful.

Unfortunately this, my humble blog, will suffer as I've found another distraction...

Netflix has the second series of House of Cards available for binge viewers, like me.

If you haven't as yet indulged, do so. Its worth the effort.

Stephen 
 

I Want

When you are walkabout at your local flea market or garage sale and you find a lantern with this plate attached, buy it.

Here's the lantern...

Its a Sears lantern manufactured by Preway (Prentiss-Wabers) fairly rare. In this condition she's worth about fifty dollars (US) but I'd be a buyer at thirty.

Now, get out there and find a nice example....then send it to me.

I promise, when it arrives I'll dance at your next wedding....promise.

Stephen

Really, I'm a Bad Boy

I've often written I read my Kindle in church. This isn't an endorsement of such behavior;  simply the facts of my short attention span during the service. To all you sinners out their - knock it off. Don't follow my poor example.

Anyhow, here's a picture I snapped last Sunday of my Kindle...what you can't see is Sweet Wife's tiny and gentle flicks to my side nor her elbow planted firmly in my ribcage - she's mean like that.

I was reading for the umpteenth time, Winter. (Or is it Deep Winter, by Thomas Sherry?) Google it if you're interested. Again, sit straight and give full attention to the minister. I'm sure he'd appreciate it.

Hey, beats my behavior as a teen when in church I'd smuggle copies of Henry Miller novels into church. My mother never had a clue.

Stephen 

Good Morning

Busy, busy, busy here. This is my payment for yesterday's slothful attitude. I haven't time to read, write, or even stand here and appear beautiful as much as like to try and do so.

If you've asked why the new header....the group and I will wiggle our way to the woods next weekend for steaks, a nice campfire, and of course, range time. If the river rides high, maybe we'll catch a few catfish.

Later.

Stephen

Almost Sunset

We've just settled in for the evening after a fine dinner of last nights leftovers. It's been a productive day. I cleaned the garage, and with my wife's help, climbed the ladder to the attic and made room for junk that's accumulated over the last few months.

After I cleared and organized my work bench I took out the next Coleman stove on my restoration list. She's another 425C, an older model with folding red legs. Oddly enough I can't find a date stamp on the ears. Strange. Anyway, another project is underway.

Warning - I'm about to post a string of pictures..a whole dadgum bunch, be warned.

Before I forget here's a few photos for Vicki. She, and another reader, expressed interest in the little Coleman 502. Vicki, here's mine with full  kit and papers. I also took a few pics of my tiny Canadian baby, a Peak.

Here's the 502 with the smaller of the two cook pans atop. The lid serves as a fry pan and the bottom as a deep pot. 

Above - she's tucked for travel.

Here's the small backpack Peak.

Since I found this little booger with a bit of fuel in the tank I set match to flame. I normally keep the tanks empty. It isn't good to store fuel in the stoves when they're stored.

Above, legs out.

Peak is a product of Coleman Canada. They're readily available on Ebay. When lit these little babies really roar and will boil a pot of water lickety-split.

I spent the rest of the day at work on the 425C. Here she is, in parts. One of the previous owners, obviously an Obama supporter, slapped a heavy coat of paint over the original finish. Sure didn't make my job any easier.

Above, my temp work table. Don't mind the Glock as I was expecting a Craigslist buyer. Hey, you never know...
Below, ugly isn't it. The body is beneath the lid, tank behind. 

Above, the tank partially striped. About a days worth of labor yet before it's ready for primer.

Above....underway.

It's a dirty job.

Several hours and two cuts and one skinned knuckle later we arrive here. The first coat of primer.

Now, let's change gears. Like many of you out there I keep strike anywhere matches in my preps...several cases in two different sizes. When it came time to fire the little Peak stove I went inside and broke out a small case of these...

Then proceeded to lite a match....it took four attempts to make fire. They fizzled, sputtered, glowed, but failed to flame. The fifth match worked.

Be warned. These matches have been sealed and stored under climate controlled conditions. Word to the wise.

Like I said, it was a nice day. The weather was perfect and with the garage door open the wind felt fresh and warm. I was able to take the generator out and freshen its fuel and put a load on it for twenty minutes or so. Then there was the fact I had a day off work and didn't even miss it. The time spent with my wife was priceless.

Now, I'm aware for many of you out there this restoration stuff is boring as all get out...sorry. If anyone is interested I'll try and document my progress on the restoration of this little camp stove. It'll take time as I will only work on her in my spare time - probably evenings after work and Sunday afternoons, Lord willing.

Take care, my friends.

Stephen

 

Soon

Enough I will have something to say, or not. Kinda easing into the day...fella is on his way over to hand over a few federal reserve notes for my old garden tiller. Other than this bit of action I might clean and put away tools and organize my work bench.

Rambling here...

Sunny and sixty-six this morning.

By the way, Xavier is back in action. H/T to Bob.

Stephen