Wednesday, December 31, 2008
I was thinking about Israel and how much crap they deal with when I came across the following videos. There may be something to be said about their choosing to remain in a place of such contention but - it is their decision to make. Who should be permitted to tell them how and when they can defend it and against whom? Like the Texans said, "Come and take it."
So I admit some pleasure in their finally ending capitulation and destruction by taking the offensive. It is long past time. And this gentleman's equating them to gangs seems apt enough.
H/T to this guy as noted at The Slack
To be sure they appear to be the only ones doing a damned thing about the "Arab Issue". A part of me wishes they'd take care of it in a permanent way but...they are good people, generally, and probably will avoid it.
Also noted at The Slack..."Republican Party officials say they will try next month to pass a resolution accusing President Bush and congressional Republican leaders of embracing "socialism," underscoring deep dissension within the party at the end of Mr. Bush's administration."
Aw, ain't it sweet? Starting to notice everyone getting a bit antsy lately? Seeing the writing on the wall? Or just all the weapons purchases? Too fucking little and way too fucking late. Do I label the man as a socialist? Perhaps not entirely. But there may be things that we don't know. The reach of Cankles is deep and wide, after all...
Look here and decide for yourself if this stance is that of a single shop or the entire chain...From a Bass Pro Shop employee: "WE do NOT stock 'assault rifles.'" (He said the name sneeringly, with emphasis.) "We only carry SPORTING weapons."
Reason enough for me to avoid them in the future.
As I drove to the office yesterday, this word (interregnum) was stuck in my brain and would not go away. I've no idea why - did I read it somewhere? Is this a pause between reigns? It certainly feels like a monarchy rather than a republic...
Herein a thing to stir you from the general ennui of late - what could be worse than this? I have always worried that our destruction would be from without rather than within - and that to remain on this slender bit of soil the worst kind of profligate waste. If we are the only ones...shouldn't we be trying harder to ensure some of us make it out of here?
And to cleanse your mental palate, this lovely bit. (If the link does not work properly, check the Playlist on the left and look for The Sky In Motion video.) It ought to make one feel quite insignificant. Or very, very special...
Saturday, December 27, 2008
It was a pleasant holiday with family, everyone giving everyone else dog toys as gifts. We had Ranger, a St Bernard, a Rottie and a wee chi-hooa-hooa/mini dalmation-y type mix. All of the big dog owners fell in love with the wee fella. He was DARLING.
A big hit with Trooper was the collar for Ranger from Survival Straps (mentioned a few posts ago). You can see it here. Trooper liked his rifle sling, too. We'll probably order another one, somewhat custom. Also, I found this fellow who has a LOT of info on making your own paracord goods!
But isn't it a handsome collar?! I asked for a double-wide version because Ranger has such a beefy neck. Anything thinner would have looked a bit silly. Here he is giving Fahthah that adoring look. Sweet, no? He has his winter fur again, giving him that deep ruff and feathery pantaloons.
I made out like a bandit with a bunch of Williams-Sonoma stuff. Aprons, mitts, knives and a bench scraper! I also received a few things for the "bug out bag". Coolest is this little solar power source - you can recharge your gear with it. I suspect it is a bit slower than electric but in the case of not a damn thing else? Superb.
I am still unwell and spent time editing a new Finetune set - this one a bit more Gaelic and classical against the other very techno set I had linked. My apologies in advance for the plethora of soundtrack tunes. I have quite an affinity for a good one though many people consider them a kind of elevator music for media.
And now, I have to find a new PC and scanner. Maybe a laptop...my current unit is so fully hacked that I refuse to use it for anything sensitive. But finding a new system is difficult - especially a laptop. Even with our corporate discount the things price out quite high compared to advertisements. I wonder if one can pay a "consultant" to do it. I'd gladly pay $100 to have someone spec it out cleanly so all I had to do was press the Pay button. And then, of course, comes the data move. Oh, yes - how to get it all on the new system without moving the hacks, too...
I daresay - I miss the days when you could pounce out to MS DOS and look at file types to see the nasty bastards. Of course, that was also the time of 2400 baud rates. Man, it took FOREVER to get your p*rn, huh?
So...that's about it. All I know is that we're making a lot of changes this new year. Paring down the accumulated crap, making sure we have what we do need, getting into fighting shape, moving to an Atkins-like diet, and organizing things. Things like the master closet that is far too small and requires a lot of shelving changes...
Add in a trip back east in a month...I'd hoped for snow under my feet and that Rocky range in my view. However, he needs to recharge and, for that, he needs his brother. It is a sacrifice I think I can manage. I just hope the time doesn't coincide with my stepdaughter's entry into Boot at the end of the month...we think in TX. She's gotten herself in decent shape to prepare for it. We warned her - get your running, pull ups and push ups squared away. The rest will come easier...
Actually, it's not bad advice for our own selves...hmmm.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
This may have been the last time I truly felt the Christmas spirit. Mommer visited, sick though she was, and Trooper and I made the most of it with hand-made stockings with glittered names...
In this I reveal more of myself than I might prefer. From the Christmas morning craptastic hair to the comfy clothes with the dreaded pudgy protuberances, and - indeed! - the pony slippers Trooper gave me (and which Ranger has since dispatched). But also there is the private joke shared, her crazy eye-squinting-giggle, and a moment captured that so fully evokes how we felt, together.
She was adamant that her cane be hidden behind her leg - no photos of her showing that weakness. And you can bet that she had bathed and managed to clean up, even if it took all her energy to do so. (The cancer was known, was in mild treatment, but she still knew much pain.)
This was before so many things...Trooper and I were still settling in to one another, I still had the option of children if not the urge, still the short hair and not the grey, and mom still laughed...it is, for me, a sort of Best/Worst holiday. It is a photo I cherish all year long but most especially at this time of year when I do miss her so fiercely. She loved the holidays. Even if none of us made it there, she would still cook enough, just in case, I suppose.
Maybe that is why I just can't bring myself to take out the decorations, to mail a card, or to wrap a gift...I haven't got it in me this year. I can sense her giving me her crooked finger waggle. And a "chuh".
So many years I wasn't there and now I'd give much for just one more...Next year, Mommer. I promise - I'll go all out next year, just for you...
Merry Christmas to all of you - no matter where you roam.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
I have been visited by the ghost of Christmas Past. As in the last one I spent with the Tidal Wave O' Phlegm. Frackety frack craptacular.
Trooper had the crud earlier in the week and we were being very careful but...guess who got it anyway. Last night it came across the DMZ and today am I fully infiltrated.
Anyhoo...did I ever link this? If not, yay. If so, our apologies for the duplication.
This is the very slickest way I know to carry on you quite a useful length of very strong cord. It comes in many formats. I've ordered a dog collar for Ranger's stocking and something for Trooper.
Slick as hell and these guys will make them however you wish. Just ask. (I got the dog collar in a slightly wider version since Ranger is so big...) Survival Straps - slick, useful, and good folks.
More soon but right now...I have to hie my sick ass to the post office. I promise to only breathe on young obnoxious people.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
So much of my early life was dominated by media. - and books...oh, the books... We went to the library quite often, sometimes left there much of the day while mom worked. Back then, even the preschools (Head Start) took you, each holding your own little knot on a long rope that led us down Chicago streets to that lovely, serene paradise that smelled of old pages and warm film strips. How I loved it...
I do not recall my youth as some do - only snippets here and there with wide swaths missing. One memory will link to another that I didn't even know I still knew. But I recall that books were a large part of our "toy" collection. I loved The Happy Hollisters. Even earlier were the Dick & Jane books. Though it was the `60s, we still had the very early books. I coveted the old fashioned lives and pictures. I wanted that sort of peaceful life.
Later it was the Laura Ingalls series of books. Little House On The Prairie - how I hated that the TV show had a Laura that looked far too much like I did then - the mockery I had to withstand. Especially when mom had a spare moment in the morning and plaited my hair. Dare I even mention the time she went overboard and pinned them atop my head ala Heidi? Scarred, I am.
Time moved as did we and it was a small Florida town's school where I found the Newberry and Caldecott Award books. I asked the librarian at my school to find others. One was "The Witch of Blackbird Pond". That book...so dark and yet full of historical snippets that I could feel...Which led to Sylvia Louise Engdahl and her book "Enchantress From the Stars". Och, how I loved that book...
I was already slipping comfortably into Tolkien (though, admittedly, deeper meanings were lost on me) and Asimov - the fiction and the non-fiction (I understood red shift far earlier than imaginable). Arthur C. Clarke was a true favorite and those led, of course, to Heinlein.
Ah, yes...all of 12 years old and reading "Stranger In A Strange Land" and "grokking" it. Damned straight I was and it utterly changed me just as, perhaps, Ayn Rand changed people. You are no longer able to look at anything the same way. While it felt as though a door had closed, I didn't mind overmuch.
All of the books are ones I'd read gladly today and some which are turned to annually, a visit which sometimes turns up an unexpected margin note or underline. Sometimes a dried blossom, significance forgotten.
And then there are the authors whose letters are still cherished...Parke Godwin thanking me for my interest in his very fine treatment of Arthurian legend, and the Pièce de résistance - a letter from Marion Zimmer Bradley regarding her book "The Mists of Avalon". I'd inquired as to her thoughts about it being made into a movie someday (long before the miniseries and any of the sequel books). She issued her opinion on a fine green paper, typewritten, very long ago.
So many more as I searched for meanings, for a knowledge that would make sense of what I thought I knew. In the end, though, it is only truth that guides us. Facts are facts no matter what we'd have them be. Stories can form us, shape us in small ways. They can lead us on a journey but we're the ones traveling, moving, through and around them. The books always wait, patient, for their time to return.
Meanwhile, I move in a new media, swimming in deep waters to find truths and finding so much flotsam...facts become maleable, truth can be edited according to what is revealed and by whom and under which prejudiced rendering. I ache for a past that cannot be - when an oath meant something. When a lie, no matter how convincingly told, was noted and the liar no longer trusted.
When we were young...will it ever be the same again or will it take a calamity to reset the system? If all information is lost, could we start again with truth? Could facts once again reign? "It is a dream I have..."
Velocigod once again strides amongst the Gods and pinches Zeus's ass. He IS all that - and a peppah. Damn it, how can someone write that well?! Amazing...and a new word for the lexicon: "dimfuckwittery ".
Never mind that Russian ship docking in Cuba - just some R&R, comrades! Even Condi sez so!
So John McCormick dares to ask the question: What did you know and when did you know it.
To whit, “We don’ need no steekin’ badges!” Did you happen to catch that nifty part at the end – that he would “let” the state senate decide? THIS is going to be a hell of a fun time - as long as he allows it to last.
It hurts to link this one. Like a fucking dull spoon carving out my spleen. So avert your eyes to the IP and just read it.
Throughout the entire Draft National Animal Identification System Users Guide,
land is referred to as a premises and not property. A "Premises" has no
protection under the Constitution of the United States, while property always
has the exclusive rights of the owner tied to it. The Fifth and Fourteenth
Amendments of the Constitution protect property rights.
Friday, December 19, 2008
The fog rolled into town yesterday morning and by 9a CT every tow truck on the Travis County list was in use. It was amazing to watch, really...all the grey and silver cars without their lights on, all the ass riding with just-slick roads, not to mention the ol' too fast for conditions issue.
A few days ago, a couple young men made a very foolish decision rendering their homes echoingly empty for the holiday. Trooper went to the scene as the wreck unit headed that way. Sad, really. Even the belted-in passenger had no chance - the belt frayed with the extreme forces, the buckle's plastic melted from the friction. Can you imagine that? Enough force to literally pull a seat belt apart in the middle? And all because they didn't want to stay behind slower traffic.
Move to yesterday evening, the fog starting to settle once again for the night. This time it was a man of enough "maturity" to know better - crossing the double yellow to advance in the oncoming lane just so he could get in front of a dump truck. He still had to sit at the light.
How I ached to whip my own vehicle to the side and tap on the window. Explain how a very similar decision rendered two young men lifeless - and wouldn't it be a shame for that pretty blonde head of hers there in the passenger seat to be smashed like a grape? I gave it 5 seconds of very serious thought. But drove on, letting them sit at the light, and just cursed him with two flat tires. Slow your ass down, won't it? Utter fool...and need I even mention the ego that surrounds someone who would risk not only their own life but that of an innocent crossing their path?
I KNOW it's hard when you're stressed and just wanting to GET HOME. Or get to granny's. Or get out of the mall dear GOD already. I've been there and done that. But try and remember those two young men in such a hurry to get somewhere and, in that haste, ending the happiness for so many people.
Also, too - if you've had too much, just stay where you are. Or call these guys. Lives are edited in mere moments. You'd be amazed at just how little it takes - how the very smallest of decisions can move in an instant into the biggest mistake of your life.
Remember, People: Better Late Than Dead
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Just look at that little light o' mine. Well, not mine yet but...soonish? Go here and see a dozen things you'll adore or find just the right thing for that special someone. Wacky, unique and fun.
But this little thing? What a darling faerytale nightlight!!
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Check out this article and the lovely graphic therein which I include in eensy form here.
Can you just sink your teeth into that?! Another reference to the material is here. I've a bit more to say on the matter but I'm sneaking this in on the job so - shhhh!
Monday, December 15, 2008
Fuck You, Penguin
By all that is unholy - by which I mean Rachel fucking Lucas - completely uncalled for linkage. Like I have nothing better to do than spend 30 minutes looking at animal hatred.
Damn it, Bob.
Speaking to ABC's "This Week," McCain was asked whether Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin
could count on his support. "I can't say something like that. We've got some great other young governors. I think you're going to see the governors assume a greater leadership role in our Republican Party," he said.
One suspected as much from the start. For many, McCain was merely the least offensive choice after the preferred candidates looked at the sheer cheating going on and gave up. But he was sharp enough to bring out this lady.
And now...his "character" comes forth. Must have been a kick in the nuts to have people chant her name even while you tried to speak, eh? Poor bastard. Well, there is a name I've used for people like that - someone who would treat an actual lady with such disdain. It's an old term and you've likely not heard it used. But it suits.
It denotes a knight who spends his time in luxury and idleness (knighted on the carpet at court rather than on the field of battle). Now, I do not intend this to demean his time in service at all. But something happened between there and the "crowning" as Republican choice for office. A man who would put up with that torture wouldn't seem the type to be so ruthless against a woman in public.
She has, after all, dealt with an enormous amount of slander and bullshit with candor and aplomb. She may not be what is needed in entirety but I wager that she would do better than most and learn far faster along the way.
Personally, I think she needs to make Alaska one of the first states to free themselves of massive federal oversight and go it alone. She could do much in that vein. And lead the way in that manner whilst ensuring her state receives a hefty influx of new residents because of it. She is a bit too clean for the other battle. And I wouldn't want her sullied or changed by it. No, she's better than that. Let's hope she keeps it that way.
Friday, December 12, 2008
I was visiting here and agreed with much of it. My sole stance on the matter is what I was taught long ago - religion is not fit for casual discussion and to never question the manner in which one has found God. My own belief system has been a circle - more a spiral, really. It evolves just as I do and just, as I am sure, it is intended. But what made me dtevelop his post was this from the comments.
William the Coroner Says: December 10th, 2008 at
A-men, sister. A tremendous part of growing up is “getting the
fuck over yourself.” A LOT of people have forgotten that.
For which can I get a damned AMEN?!
DAILY we meet up with people who have the maturity of a gaggle of 12 yr old girls. And these are adults, supposedly, functioning in society. I think the most amusing thing I see are folks who create a blog intended to invite discourse on a deeply important topic and - when their own stance is questioned - and their intellect fucking can't step up. They put their fingers in their blog-ears, or pick up their bloggy ball and go home. Example here which leads you to the guilty party.
You know, I link to and quote Billy A LOT. And I know that what he writes and espouses is...sometimes disturbing. Trust me - I've known the man for decades, now, and he hasn't changed. Scratch that - he LEARNS. He evolves. But he has never once bent the knee for some brat who is looking to stake a claim in the 'sphere and he never will. You will write cogently. You will organize your thoughts and arguments clearly. And you will use words as they were fucking well intended. To MEAN something. And if you will do this he will spend days with you, he will turn his head and mind to you. You will LEARN more than you can imagine.
But if all you can do is be a vapid playah then you had better keep walking. Because he will spike you. What he intends is simple - he will not be enslaved and he will never ask that you do so on his behalf. Period. His concept of freedom is...as it was originally intended. It is, in this modern day, like some ancient artifact that no one quite understands. And my fear is great that the understanding will fail just when it is most needed.
This entire country is as close to falling completely away from its origins as it ever has. I know that many think it is just a stage, a growing pain. But when you look at it from all angles you can see the cracks - huge fissures, really - of which an intellectual laziness of the populace is the most evident. Oh, they're all college educated - but perhaps 4% could pass the graduation test of a one-room schoolhouse from the 1800's. And that is...progress?!
Och, this has turned into a rant and for that I am sorry. I'd intended only a snippet of "Look! See?!" Which is generally what I am good at. Because I've had no formal education. What I know came from a self-education that came with scars and bad dreams. But it also carves away the bullshit. It isn't all about me. I have to "get the fuck over" myself to this day. And I work at it all the time. But...
Right now, things are being done to ensure words like these are never permitted airing.
Right now, the weapons you own are being noted.
Right now, your usual behavior is counted upon.
Right now, sleeping leviathans are rolling over and stretching.
Right now, the very long game is coming to a close and it is delicate, darling YOU it intends to ensnare.
So just start thinking. Start LOOKING at the damned thing. You cannot VOTE your way out of it. I wish it were possible - that I could without it meaning a damned gun being aimed at you.
Just start watching, and thinking, and taking the thought out to the very crux of the matter. And be ready. Because that is what they are counting on - that when the pot starts to boil you'll be so so toasty and comfy that you won't notice the heat. Or the dying.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
I came across this lovely via a complicated set of linkages but I just had to share. I love everything they've designed but this one is fantastic. (Their full offering is at this site.)
Can you imagine that?! Just gorgeous...I asked them to consider adding a holster. Just thing under a dress...or over your jeans...
Quite reasonable, too. Just thought I should pass it along...
Monday, December 08, 2008
A brief stint at Ed Rasimus' place found this and once again my mouth twitched.
It's madness, I know, to think of it - that I could sit in that thing and not lose it all over the place. But a part of my muscle memory says, "Yes - and thus...", remembering what it has never known.
I often think of my dear friend who gets to touch the things daily. Her desk covered with schematics, and her hard drive full of stress computations, her particular speciality. (A shortened story: they couldn't figure out why a certain hinge on one side of a craft kept failing. They finally sent her on-site. Turns out they chose that side to piss when the in-flight need presented itself. Try and predict that in your mock-up.)
I think of her and a selfish part of me demands to know why she can't get me closer to it - to at least touch the thing if not sit in it, if not feel it heaving from the ground...Och, but I know why, of course. It is simply Not Done. Too, I recall one man's very slight playtime in the sky and how my stomach was surprised by the sensation. I had thought it was all...visual.
So for those of you whose wings still take you, falling up, tilt those wings for me now and then, won't you? Because my eyes never fail to look when one of you goes by, no matter the distance.
(I still think this the finest, sexiest, most beautiful aircraft ever known.)
Sunday, December 07, 2008
Courtesy of Jane's which gives it rather a lot of credibility. At an estimated 1200 mile reach, it could reasonably touch India, Saudi Arabia, and Turkey.
And, yes, Israel.
Water supplies to residents in Harare were cut by the authorities yesterday as
Zimbabwe’s cholera epidemic tightened its grip and the city witnessed its worst
unrest for a decade. The Zimbabwe National Water Authority turned off the
pumps in the capital after it ran out of purifying chemicals.
Some are wondering if it wasn't a forced issue - to gain control of the populace while also allowing it to run rampant. "We need the military to control the people! Look at them!" And how would you react if the same happened in your `burb?
I've been thinking a bit about history - since there is nothing new under the sun - and the Dark Ages. It aptly describes my sense of things, now. Not in the sense of religiosity eventually bringing light to the pagan public but more in the sense of a loss of direction, a degraded time when disease was the sauce on their feast of debauchery. Do we not see even now a strengthening of variants that were once thought gone from these shores? What need we do to prepare for it and to some day sow the seeds of "enlightenment"?
Or, to steal from Niven/Pournelle's Lucifer's Hammer, what books to bury in the septic tank? (BTW, I highly recommend the book to get your teeth set for what may come.)
I suspect sugar may be as much a commodity as cash in an emergency. Has anyone else noticed the run on rice in the grocery? Our local Mexican restaurant had it stacked to the ceiling months ago. Interesting...Regardless, flours, yeast, sugars, and the like are on my stock up list.
My employer has large offices in Mumbai and surrounding areas. I am wondering about our fiscal situation in relation to same. We are very proactive (secure drivers to/from, backup locations, security professionals for any extraction needs) but a large portion of our income depends on stability there. (We had no personnel impacted by the recent events, thank goodness.)
I'd spoken just the other day of how the influx of earned capital has changed the area - the caste system breaking down in a generation - vs. the constant beggaring from Africa, an area we are now looking at for expansion in the market. It's a frightening thought - having staff there. I cannot help but wonder how we begin such negotiations. And I begin to wonder if we should.
I read an article months ago and meant to mention it - about how nearly all the "eco-friendly" CFL bulbs come from China. So do you trust them - the bulbs, I mean? After all, they've poisoned everything we've imported in one way or another. Are you surprised by this subtle attack?
Are you aware, relatedly, of China's investment in Africa?
What I found is that while flat-footed Western governments largely watch from
the sidelines, cash-flush Chinese firms -- many with state-directed financing --
are cutting deals at a dizzying pace, securing supplies of oil, copper, timber,
natural gas, zinc, cobalt, iron, you name it.
Yeah...I am telling you: there are signs everywhere of a change so massive, so unexpected and so rapid that there is no way to properly express it. Much less to track it all.
Why does the dog have to hide his fresh bones for a few hours before he eats them? Amazing to watch him place it in a dozen areas until he finds one satisfactory - and then watch him cover it with his nose, shoving a blanket or sheet of paper over it. He is not that far from his ancestors, I take it...
Saturday, December 06, 2008
Well, he was up in arms, being loud and calling the supervisor on shift a "broad" and saying how he was being treated like dirt, blah whiney blah. Trooper had taken Ranger out for a break as I paid so I gave the moron a direct and long look. Not enough, not content as his friend smirked, he kept up the complaining as the young office gals looked scared. So I called him on it.
"That's rude and there's no reason for that sort of talk in front of ladies." Oh, he did go on and on. "We've all been there - it's upsetting but there is no call for that behavior." Still, again, as his friend just grins. Until finally, "Sir, this is Texas and you will find some manners." Mutter, mutter as he went to sit on the bench outside and wait. I gave it a moment then called Trooper in. Just to be on the safe side since the associate was still there and his silent smiling was a far more dangerous threat. The young girl wondered aloud if they should call the police. Trooper smiled, "They're already here..." and badged.
It was only a moment after that when the vet gave the man the food and they departed. Still, there was something...it got my blood up, I tell you. This is a VERY nice facility and the people are not in any way smarmy. And being rude in front of other ladies is uncalled for. If it was NYC or Chgo you'd expect that sort of thing. But not here. I just won't stand for it anymore.
Mind, if I had been alone I might have had a slightly different approach. But I knew that Trooper was prepared. I just wish he'd been the one inside...still, I am glad I did what I did.
This is Texas, by God.
Friday, December 05, 2008
I still need my daddy, damn it.
Should be finishing up the procedure right about now, I reckon...
[Ed: If all goes well, he goes home tomorrow with an implant and hardly a complaint. Amazing.]
[Ed: He is home and happy! Says he feels terrific if mindful of the left arm - no lifting for a few months. WOOT!!]
Trooper looked over at him and smiled. He saw it, also, he said. From a plane. With incoming (green) tracers giving him his first taste of live fire. You could see the light dawning on the man's face and that of his (adorable) wife. She didn't understand - "so you flew out of there in a hurry, then?" And with a very gentle laugh, "No, we jumped out of it. As soon as they would let us."
It is always strange to come against that sort of generational crevasse. These folks are so mature in spirit that we often forget we're almost a generation apart. It is a distance that isn't always easy to cross with other people. We've an entire population that (as noted in an essay on the link below) looks to other people for their opinion and approval. There is no history, only now. There is no real individuality - just group acceptance. You cannot even hold a conversation with them. There is a young lady of my acquaintance who is sweet as she can be but...her thoughts are like paintballs, hitting the wall in a confused splatter. Nothing in sequence, nothing material, and no ability to be QUIET.
(Mind you, I've a theory about all this asthma, poor thinking ability and, of course, Aspergers: all those damned vaccinations. Given when far too young, given all at the same time, and given without even a thought as to if it is even a good idea for THIS child. "It's just what we do," you can hear them say. Well, look around you and see if you don't think there are syptoms at an epidemic level that something is seriously WRONG.)
At any rate, it was an interesting snap of reality. And on the ride home, a remembrance of what he gave up to come here. The years of service with the county, the retirement accrued. All surrendered for a badge with a star. From that queerly lit night sky of thick tropic air to this wide open country...quite the journey for a man. I looked across the truck at him, his handsome profile, the Carhartt coat and Atwood hat illuminated by the passing cars. It was a strange road that led me to this place, also. The odds were entirely against it.
Goes to show you - those long odds are sometimes worth betting on...
I shall have to add this to the link luv list - each post is nigh unto exquisite. I only wish I could write like that.
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Tip o' the beanie to Billy's link to this!
I love it! LOVE!
And you know what else I'm gonna get? Custom Kleenex boxes for the office. Uh-huh. Assuming, of course, they accept the logo.
Sometimes this intarweb thing is the shit and two pieces of chicken. And a peppah!
Monday, December 01, 2008
President: Sarah Palin (yeah, there are problems with it, sure, but better than some)
VP: Ted Nugent (Hey, worthwhile just for the revamp of All Hail The Chief)
Sec of Treasury: Gene Simmons (Guaranteed to be a profitable endeavor for once...)
Sec of Defense: R. Lee Ermey (Motto: Nuke em from orbit. It's the only way to be sure)
Also, in order to get back to basics, the following will no longer be in existence or edited accordingly:
Dept. of Agriculture (If you don't know how to do it by now, just work at McDonalds)
Dept. of Interior (WTF? I think we know what's here. Leave it to the Rangers. Pay them more.)
Dept. of Commerce (Just a fucking speedbump, my friend, in the path of capitalism. Move it.)
Dept. of Labor (Can you spell Job? You can find one. I promise.)
Dept. of Education (You've spent far too much and gotten worse and worse. No Soup For You!)
Dept. of State (Meh. I say find that guy who gave the finger to the [Ed: IED setting MoFo fingered by Gunnery Sgt Michael Burghardt] in Iraq. Him.)
Dept. of Energy (Full of inertia. Seriously. Look at the guy. He hasn't moved at speed in years.)
Dept. of Transportation (Uh...we've got roads. Trains. Planes. Get on one.)
Dept. of Health and Human Services (Give that budget to the military. We're gonna need it.)
Dept. of Homeland Security (You've done nothing but dick things up. Seriously. Enough.)
Dept. of Veterans Affairs (An unpaid volunteer role so that the salary can go to helping vets.)
Dept. of Housing and Urban Development (Because they've done so well. Right? Outta here.)
So there...maybe it's not reasonable. Hell, it's impossible. But can you imagine the amount of pure tax money you'd have back if the above were gone? They and all their sycophants? Damn it, I wish I could crunch those numbers.
So, come on. I need a bumper sticker - Palin/Nugent.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Once again, my gun sits nearby, extra magazines with it. Once again, the dog is quietly shepherded to the pasture so that the Master can sleep. And, once again, the dinner hour is late so he isn't starving when getting to the end of his night.
I've been enjoying some the quiet time by reading again, sorting through the inundation of catalogues, and working on my photo collection. And yet, there is still so much to get done. I often feel guilty about it. Laundry, dishes, clutter...no matter how much I try to remain on top of it, there is always more, sisyphean.
For Trooper, there is gun cleaning and uniform pressing, glove cleaning and shoe polishing. Fortunately (if one can say that), he just did much of it for the last funeral so it ought to be a bit easier to accomplish. He is quite serious about a boot polishing - all that water and flame, the plastic over his finger to avoid the transfer of polish through the rag. The edge dressing applied and then the boots laid away to keep things clean.
I was so pleased to see his photos, that perfect state of respect and alertness. An eye that does not see your mourning but protects it. I like how the gloved hands rest together over the buckle, then move in gently cupped folds to the pants seam. And the photo where every knee was caught in mid-raise, even and syncopated. I adore his dedication to the task and how much it matters to him that everything be just so.
I've no sense of detail like that except in photography. Only there do I strain for perspective, for balance and shading. I do sometimes miss it, those winter mornings on the trail where it was only myself and the crackling leaves. It was a kind of duty, a perimeter patrol. But it was a lonely one.
No, I suppose a pasture in chilly morning with a puppy's head stuffed in a warren is close. Not exactly the same cathedral of trees...but a sense of peace there, too, yes. A big wuffling salute to another day. After all, they are not guaranteed.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Ah, what a wonderful day it was - we drove to Houston as did a few other family members - since my brother was on-call at his medical facility. We brought Ranger along, having introduced him to their behemoth and gut ripper dogs already. (He and Gut Ripper get along great. Behemoth has to just bark from the sidelines in his lack of stamina.) The dogs were outside much of the day, having a great time.
Inside, we were feasting like never before. I'd put all my sides in nukeable glass dishes which worked out nicely. Everyone got along and there were very few inappropriate comments. (There are poorly raised teens there who come up with foolish criminal situations to quiz Trooper with...) Dad was, as always, entertaining. Dancing, singing, speaking of many things. Trooper sat with the Rooskie and they talked about the Cold War, each from their view of things. It was extremely interesting for him.
But then, the next day, we fortified ourselves with buttermilk biscuits, eggs, and some more ham before heading to a new range. (Did you notice that this was re-enacted by nearly all the bloggers you know?!) This one is open 365 days a year! AMAZING! And tho not indoor, it has a generous amount of cover and the weather here is rarely so cold that you'd be pained to be out there. They were VERY professional and yet welcoming. So often a range or gun shop can house the worst in egos. The distant glare of wanna-bes who hate you for having been. But not here. I liked that you were assigned a rifle lane but can roam the pistol section and shoot as you wish there.
The entrance fee was quite reasonable - particularly when you consider that you need do nothing but shoot. You don't even have to police your brass. Matter of fact, if you intend to keep it, you'd better pick it up as the gentlemen run by with their funky sweeper often. I'm sure its a profitable endeavor for them.
They were doing a land office business and we got one of the last rifle lanes (shorter) available. We were going to get the sights all set so we waited for the cease fire and he set up the target. That was about the last fun there was for me. I have NO IDEA what was going wrong but I could NOT shoot the damned thing! OK, better put I could not AIM it. I suspect a number of issues - none of them related to Trooper's aid. Cross-eye dominance is, I think, a major issue. Old prescription of glasses needing updated is another. Having to crane my neck over to see through the sights while not knocking my glasses askew another. And, of course, the reports of MASSIVE weapons to either side of me startling me and making me even more angry.
I'll fess up right here and now. Tears of frustration started rolling and I had not a single hanky to hide them in. What was wrong with me?! I was just not making it work and no matter how much patience I applied it just wasn't coming off at the other end of the range. I gamely kept trying, the others to either side of us giving glances - tearful women with high powered weapons being a sensitive matter - but eventually, I just had Trooper shoot his SOCOM and stood back. I was smiling through the tears, angry at myself for them, wishing I could just make it stop. Wishing I could just announce to the guys that for me it's like trying to masturbate in an oven glove. NOT WORKING and pissing me off.
Ah, well - we moved down to the pistol range - the longer one which I think was 25 yds. He had his 1911 so we shot that. I love that thing. It is SO point and shoot. And the sights are just spot on. Also, I could use either eye to focus and, frankly, the left rocked. Head shots over and over, belly buttons given. Chests remodeled. Of course, they were the fun zombie targets that our friend gave Trooper as a gift. So, it all ended on a high point and I was happy to have proven to myself that I am capable of shooting well.
But I am damned well getting my eyes checked. And we'll go to the free range and work on that rifle issue. Oh, hell yes. Because I will not give up that easily. We'll figure it out and make it work.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
I don't think we could have found a better endeavor! Everyone had a terrific time and were surprised, I think, at just how fun it can be. And this with your basic paper target. Nothing fancy. Turns out that the Soviets thought arms training for 12 hrs a day for a month was about right. Turns out that even 25 years later the training sticks with you. He was a terrific shot!! And so eager - he made it a fun time.
My sister has been wanting to try it and was very pleased with the experience - another one in the fold, as it were.
There was the handy ol' .380, my basic 9mm, his 1911 (gorgeous creature), and 45, as well as his boyhood's 22, my AR15 and his SOCOM rifle. A generous plenty (similar to the photo at the header though a few have been traded out here and there). I held off on shooting much, allowing Trooper to spend time on the visiting shooters. The non-shooter took dozens of photos, cackling at her husband's fluency with the weapons.
We'll head back Friday, I think, alone and spend time tuning the rifles with the new sights. I had no idea it'd go so well, frankly. We're trying to talk them into moving here and I think today's fun was a big step in the right direction.
And tonight? Well, I've been slaving over the "sides". My SIL is making the turkey and I am making everything else. Hence, this late post...done but for one more load of dishes to wash. And a shower. But I think that can wait till morning. Right now, this is for you guys.
Make it a SAFE and happy holiday - buckle up, sleep it off instead of trying to get home, and if the family starts to make you nuts, remember there are many empty chairs at tables around this nation and mothers weeping quietly in the kitchen for the lost and absent ones.
Well, that and apply alcohol. My SIL declares she has acquired more Mead for the occasion.
Dear God. It could get ugly.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
We went to the local pasture, something he loves to do. We think he is far more suited to Search and Rescue than Security in terms of personality and the videos give the sense of why...I hope they aren't insanely large files...I wish you could hear his wuffling. Made me giggle. Oh Gawd...I am baby talking to him in the 2nd one. My apologies in advance. Please know that I am mortified.
We have to do some research but I think it could definitely be his "job". He needs one, being that type of dog. All in all, he makes it a fun if blustery excursion. (And I think he has the cutest doggie butt when he is all hunched up like that.)
If I don't manage another post of useless hooey, I hope everyone has a terrific holiday! Me? I am getting my list ready so I can go to the store. Woot!
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Trooper and I watched a Nat'l Geo program on Arlington the other day, each of us sniffing a bit here and there as the Old Guard did their job. We were glad to have watched it before watching the HBO program, Section 60: Arlington National Cemetery.
In the former program, one was able to see how the groundskeepers and everyone associated with the site had such tremendous respect for what they were doing, for the people there, living and dead. The HBO program made them seem callous or at least oblivious. What they do is a very delicate balance of getting work done around mourners.
Most of the family members interviewed seemed to be freshly grieving which, I believe, brought out emotions and words that were...harsh with proximity. But the one thing that stuck with me - that made me just weep - was the mother who said all she wanted was to, "...hear him say he forgives me for not being there with him when he died."
How evocative was that simple sentence? It said in a few words what poets have striven to embody for ages.
I have a particular reverence for the place. I know no one there. I've never been. But it has a deep connection for some reason. All the men and women buried there are familiar with the endings each other experienced. I imagine them conversing, comforting the newly arrived. I wish Trooper would think more seriously about going there. I think about how much I'd like to be there, someday, if room could be made near him.
And then, later, I thought about it in the future, forgotten and overrun with wilderness. The buildings no longer pristine, the marble barely visible through vines. Could that day ever dawn? Will I live long enough to see it?
I have to hope that there will always be someone there, caring for the place. That the Old Guard ensures its ranks never falter. Just keep it...sacred.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
In an official lunch with foreign diplomats, Icelandic President Olafur
Ragnar Grimsson shocked neighboring Nordic countries with inviting Russia to
take use of the strategically important airbase.
Foreign diplomats hardly believed what they heard when the Icelandic
president said that his country needs “new friends” and that Russia should be
invited to take use of the old U.S. airbase of Keflavik.
New friends, is it? Mmmm...I suppose we'll at least know where to drop the bombs if/when the time comes.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
Guess it's just some freaky Friday fun...
(Apropos of above, I always thought I'd grow up and be like Samantha - the happy housewife...)
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Democratic leaders in the U.S. House discuss confiscating 401(k)s, IRAs
By Karen McMahan
November 04, 2008
RALEIGH Democrats in the U.S. House
have been conducting hearings on proposals to confiscate workers personal
retirement accounts including 401(k)s and IRAs âand convert them to accounts
managed by the Social Security Administration.Triggered by the financial crisis
the past two months, the hearings reportedly were meant to stem losses incurred
by many workers and retirees whose 401(k) and IRA balances have been shrinking
The testimony of Teresa Ghilarducci, professor of economic policy analysis
at the New School for Social Research in New York, in hearings Oct. 7 drew the
most attention and criticism. Testifying for the House Committee on Education
and Labor, Ghilarducci proposed that the government eliminate tax breaks for
401(k) and similar retirement accounts, such as IRAs, and confiscate workers
retirement plan accounts and convert them to universal Guaranteed Retirement
Accounts (GRAs) managed by the Social Security Administration.
Oh, but it gets better, my friend...it's not all your money...
All workers would have 5 percent of their annual pay deducted from their
paychecks and deposited to the GRA. They would still be paying Social Security
and Medicare taxes, as would the employers. The GRA contribution would be shared
equally by the worker and the employee. Employers no longer would be able to
write off their contributions. Any capital gains would be taxable
Analysts point to another disturbing part of the plan. With a GRA, workers
could bequeath only half of their account balances to their heirs, unlike full
balances from existing 401(k) and IRA accounts. For workers who die after
retiring, they could bequeath just their own contributions plus the interest but
minus any benefits received and minus the employer contributions.
Hey, they have to prop up the broke SocSec account somehow and if you bastards stop dying off in a timely fashion, well...
Fools. Move that money before you can't. I think mine will be sunk into tangible wealth against the coming storm.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Just damned entertaining.
They took a trip overseas to visit with the guys they help portray. I like that. I also like that they do try to make the scenes as real as possible within the constraints of story line and - well, what Hollywood thinks they should be.
The last few eps have featured Mack and his slow slide into - well, perhaps not madness but...futility? He works this scene like crazy. And the look at his nemisis at the end of this one? Pure hate. Love it. If you haven't been watching, check out the full eps online. Like I say, it's not entirely lacking in BS but...it makes up for it with beefcake.
Monday, November 10, 2008
I think it shoots quite fast and gently - maybe
I like the bullets so sharp and tall
And the hole they leave in a wall
OK - all that aside, this is what I have decided I want. FN Five-Seven Tactical.
Of course, that's because I can't get one of these. (You ever notice how the guys with the best toys never LOOK like they would have them?!)
Sunday, November 09, 2008
If things go as badly as they might, the books would be a good primer on the sorts of "politics" of the streets that may come up.
I had never considered my wasted youth to have any value. I suspect it may have been a preparation, far too early. Rusty, those skills. Being able to read a person from far away...to know the "turf" and the owners thereof. It's a complicated business and the only thing I've seen that even comes close is The Shield. Even then, the characters tend to operate logically - far different from the truth, the random and manic violence that just happens.
And you may trust that anyone of less than respectable intentions will be...early to the process. The key is to see the change coming and to be in place before it does. But we've all had blinders on for so long - the dimmer light offers precious little illumination. Intentions harder to detect, motivations less obvious.
In other news...some new folks have been found. One uses "fuck" more than I do - amusingly! Another suffers my own need to know everything about everyone. Here a very brief review of cyber-security in the DoD. (Yeah, I'm not-famous for about 15 seconds.)
Lastly, from my best pal whose education and work I envy with every fiber of my being...and, of course, backed by one of my favorite techno pieces. Sorry but if that doesn't make you salute in your pants you need help.
Thursday, November 06, 2008
"The line to suck my dick starts to the left..."
Relatedly, in case the lines are familiar - give it a watch someday..."The Long Kiss Goodnight"
Also, the whole "I accept that he is my President" line - folks, until he proves his citizenship I cannot. I won't be like the liberal assholes who declared it far and wide, over and over re: Bush. But in my heart, he hasn't got the job yet. And likely never will because he has all the keys, now.
Can I just tell you how fucking frightening it is that this man will now have access to the IDs and information on every single agent in the field? AQ needs to know how we're infiltrating? Done. Russia needs to know which railcar has the nuke? Done. For the first time I sincerely hope there is a separate "skunkworks" layer that will misinform the office.
Trooper wondered how many Secret Service agents would be seeking retirement, now. Not that it matters since Farrakhan will have a generous plenty of guards to offer.
I have never felt the need so deeply and strongly to be well-armed and practiced. I am not even kidding. I have GOT to get the CHL soon. And in shape - time to really concentrate on it. My body must be reliable.
I have this game I play in my mind about Texas - about whether we'd take on Mexico as an ally if things went so south that we had to put up a border on the north. If there is one state that could (and has) give(n) a nation the finger, it's this one. I may reside in the most liberal section of it but trust me - when the lattes dry up so will the liberals.
Get things in order...I look around me and wonder what I would have to bring if time was short. What to pack. All my English china - useless. Ephemera and pretties - useless. Maybe it's time to stop the acquisition of same for a time. Concentrate on things that will be useful. Like boots and packs, targets and ammo. Guns. I told Trooper that we'd be looking at what we don't have and filling in the spaces.
You see, I am not an alarmist, really. But I AM a planner. Plans, backup plans, and all what-ifs accounted for. He is that Ranger type - make do with what you have, take only what you need. Deal with whatever happens when it happens. Which means a frightening lack of toothpaste, I assume.
Lastly...this which is far too spot-on for comfort. Well, for the comfort of some. Trust me - it's coming. As soon as the mortgage bill keeps coming and the winter heating oil isn't free. Then the ennui...LOL Oh, it's gonna be fun.
Obama Win Causes Obsessive Supporters To Realize How Empty Their Lives Are
I think I know what is meant now about growing old...of how all those you once knew start dying. Time is a merciless bitch. You truly have to snatch her up and hold on.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
"The society of late twentieth century America is perhaps the first in human history where most grown men do not routinely bear arms on their persons and boys are not regularly raised from childhood to learn skill in the use of some kind of weapon, either for community or personal defense - club or spear, broadsword or long bow, rifle or Bowie knife. It also happens to be one
of the rudest and crudest societies in history, having jubilantly swept most of the etiquette of speech, table, dress, hospitality, fairness, deference to authority and the relations of male and female and child and elder under the fraying and filthy carpet of politically convenient illusions. With little fear of physical reprisal Americans can be as loud, gross, disrespectful, pushy, and
negligent as they please. If more people carried rapiers at their belts, or revolvers on their hips, It is a fair bet you would be able to go to a movie and enjoy he dialogue from the screen without having to endure the small talk, family gossip and assorted bodily noises that many theater audiences these days regularly emit. Today, discourtesy is commonplace precisely because there is no price to pay for it."
The above illustrates why I am quite selective in my ventures among the great unwashed. I have an archaic sense of propriety in many things. (While, yes, being quite common in others, agreed.) I am amazed at the rapid decline in manners just in the last 15 years. It is frightening to consider what might come in the next decade.
Much else in my most brief review was quite interesting - esp as his concerns were raging even in 1993. Worth a visit even if only for that brief moment of, "Yes, I remember that, too..."
As for this evening's delights? I decline to wade in that...septic pool of utter foolishness. I know people state that if one doesn't participate, one cannot complain. I take the opposite stance in that we who abstain are the ONLY ones who have a right to complain. I asked nothing of you or them but to live, earn, produce, and someday die.
I don't pretend to be wise enough to come up with alternatives. I don't have all the answers. I just know what is so obviously broken can never be cobbled together like some sort of Frankenstein creature and be expected to function as intended.
Still, may you be pleased in what comes - that my wish to you all. But it needs a skald. So that it can be told and retold.
Barrett M468 6.8SPC rifle
Do we need another one? No...but then isn't there something about how the fastest reload is another loaded weapon?
Personally, I like the thought of having it as a spare. And the price was cheap - I think I bought 4 or 5 raffle tickets. Too, it supports the system of one of the coolest guys on the net (and a damned good photographer, too).
If you've never run a large site, you cannot imagine the expenses associated. If it's a large site with a larger fan base? Well, you better work a second job because if it doesn't have nekkid folks on it, you aren't likely to make much money via subscriptions.
And check out the lighter, too. Thinking of getting one of those for a friend. A gentleman of the road...
Sunday, November 02, 2008
Even if it wasn't wrong to give other men virtual guns to hold against others on your behalf - even then you have to admit that the mess is broken. Broken in the fists of people with absolutely no respect for your rights, and no sense of honor. None.
ACORN has so polluted this tragic affair that it no longer MATTERS what one does. One state alone has enough fraud to convict a dozen people. Just one state. Do you think they stopped there?
And I have found that good friends are revealing their...insanity...by actually adoring the man destined to ruin this country. I am taking the high road, saying not a word, because it will make NO DIFFERENCE to them. Their own prejudice so deep and wide - all the while swearing that this will remove the stain from us all. Fuck them. Deeply and widely.
Does that make me a bad friend? I don't give a damn. It's about me, mine and the Republic. That's it.
Friday, October 31, 2008
It is as one imagines all witches might be - ever youthful though not immature, arch without being menacing, and always with a longing - a far away stare. And the wind...the constant companion.
Oh, for the crunch of real autumnal leaves, for the snap of frost on a window. And the smell of smoke drifting while the slender fingernail moon rocks in the dark sky. It's out there, somewhere. And if it's with you, blow it all a kiss.
But this year I simply couldn't muster up a bit of care for it. The boxes still stacked away, the plastic pumpkins and strands of orange lights not making an appearance. Too tired, too busy and simply not in the mood. Too somber, really, to be frivolous.
Which is such a complete departure for me that I am seriously wondering Why.
So I'll get the candy from the store and don something that will be in the spirit of the thing, something to please the children. And remember dimly those holidays of the past with the cardboard cutouts of quartermoon gliding witches and hump backed black cats.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
The good news? Looks like my one boss is ditching the PIMA APAC job. WOOT!!! How I hate dealing with them! First, there's the whole time zone issue and then there is the whole spoiled brat issue since they are used to having one person do only their stuff. PFFT. I have 5 bosses, folks. Take a number.
The bad news? He is needed for more pressing items. Like...what is the company going to do in light of int'l finance issues? Oh, I don't worry for MY job, no. I am fortunate in that regard. And we're top heavy. But...it's complicated. If you don't work in a very -er - VERY large company you have no idea how the spokes from the hub impact so many other things. I guess it's more web-like, really, where a trembling in one part resonates in another. Suffice to say I shall remain busy for quite some time.
Anyway, yesterday was a real craptacular day...Trooper was on-call and exhausted after doing a 15 hr "part-time" on a movie set here in town, on his feet all day. (If you have the book An Anthropologist On Mars by Oliver Sacks, the story is in there - the last one - about the lady who developed a cattle pen and processing concept, Temple Grandin. EXCELLENT book, BTW.) So he went to bed wiped out.
The phone rang just before 5a. I heard it, heard his silencing the noise, and heard his settling back down in bed. And then his rapid snatching of the cell and recovering the number and message. You could almost hear his thoughts, "Phone, on call, dispatch...". Turns out it was an ejection, possible fatality wreck and not too far from the house. I rose and started the coffee that was still 30 minutes away from brewing. Stumbling about, I let the dog out, and fed the cats who thought it wonderful I was awake on time for a change.
Trooper forced sleep away with a quick dousing of his face and brush of the flattop. At least the coffee was mostly done before he left. He dressed quickly but not too quickly, not wanting to forget anything. Process ensures preparedness. And then, he was gone into the quite chill air of dark, dark pre-dawn.
It was a sad scene, really. A youth with freshly printed license who decided to drive with an older relative after drinking. The driver, of course, was fine. The relative did not survive the trip. Unfortunately, word drew out the relatives long before victim services arrived. Notification on-scene is unpleasant but sometimes necessary. After they left, it was time to paint the scene. Still dark, he did what he could, flagging points in the grass, taking photos. Later, he would return with his associate and add more paint (with the new irksome method of coding each wheel with dots, dashes, whatever concept you wish to apply and a sort of "key" at the start of each wheel's departure into mayhem).
So it was 5a-6p, most of it dealing with forms, teletypes, warrants and the like. He came in, apologizing for his attitude during the day. As usual, we went to the bedroom after he put the uniform aside, laying there and just talking about the day, petting the dog. I don't mind the topic, the details, the review. Not at all. And it decompresses him so that he can breathe easy and just be "off duty". And, as usual, I left him to rest - the 30 or 60 minutes being all he needs to come back fresh.
A new blogger - new on this topic anyway - has commented here and has the same inquiry on her post about ride-alongs. Sometimes I wish I could spend more hours with him and it'd be nice, yes. But it is so different here. They transport their own arrests - in the front seat. He would never want me exposed to that. Nor would he need the distraction. Too, we can be a few miles from home or be called over 30 miles away to the other side of the county. And if it's a fatality? You have about 3 hours of misc crap to do. So...I just watch the DVDs and it's enough.
I don't really mind the being apart as much in the day - admittedly, that evening shift is harder. But even then...it's nice to have that separation. Besides, he is in Trooper mode, not fun husband mode. Nope, he's ALL business. Perhaps it is because I am older. Heck, I dunno. It sure makes the time you DO have together more valuable.
So...that's about it. That's how it has been lately...his telling me to stay off the damned office email at night and me calling to see how much longer he's going to be. LOL But tonight it's dinner with friends and their baby. I LOVE babies when they are only around a few hours.
Interestingly...a local PD stopped by the house the other night. Seems the Chief is "retiring". Asked Trooper if he'd be interested. My eyebrow went up. Indeed? Well, now...let's just get this whole Trooper thing finished, shall we? But I could see he was flattered, knew how he'd run that show. And I will "cop" to feeling a surge of pride in my bosom. That's my man. Hell, yeah.
Monday, October 20, 2008
I can say little more about that day. The photo was at the end wherein my husband kindly captured the final bit of debauchery. (The indelicate hand belongs to a relative - it is not mine. I am merely pointing to it - her debauchery, I mean. Ahem.)
He was short, yes. But so...in the spirit of the game, one might say.
Trooper was loving it, of course. All day mocking the two women folk who were lost in their mead. At one point I was so off my game as to be mocked by a wandering Pretzel Vendor. A minor one at that! True, he rattled off the types of wares he had too fast and I laughingly asked him to slow down. "Sallllttteeeyyyy, Parrrrmmmmeeeesahhhhnnnn..."
The little whelp! I had to take out my hanky, hide my face, and wail, "I am so ashamed!" as I laughed til I cried. Shortly after, ignoring the joust, I whispered to my brother, "Shh! She'sh drunk!" He nearly went down the hill on that one. Which only then brought on a battle of the witless, "We burn. Fiery pitsth of hewl. Flamesth."
Dear me, I've no idea what we were doing but I was having a blast. I haven't had that much to drink since I wasn't legal to drink. But I was, at least, a polite drunk. We managed to wend our way through the fare with very little instigation. Still, I didn't want to be the predictable "drunk lady at the fair". It is almost as bad as the "too much boob for the outfit" gal.
No worries. There is little photographic evidence of ME. Trooper, however, was assaulted by some wenches and brought on stage and of that there is ample evidence. Of course, his LT was there. He was assaulted, too, but only briefly.
A wonderful bit of fun followed by a very rough day at work. Still, Stubby the Barbarian makes me smile. As does this new finding. If it doesn't work, well, tough. I'm hungover.
You can figure it out. You're all far smarter than I after all. (Or is that than me? Sigh...)
Off with ye...
Friday, October 17, 2008
API and Michelle Obama's Call To Order
First, Chief Editor Korir's family ought to check on the life insurance because his life will be cheap, indeed, to those he is fighting. And I hope he has those tapes very carefully secured. A Swiss bank lockbox won't suffice. Finally, it brings on the very question ignored from the start - is the man even legally permitted to apply for the job?
Oh, rich - RICH - this drama, this denouement.
And so, we prepare in this home. Crossfit is our current focus in order to be ready for whatever may come. He speaks in tongues upstairs, the weights crashing and sweat flying. It truly makes a mere 20 minutes worth 60.
It's his 4-day with no obligations outside of fun until Monday when he'll work for a tidy sum to protect some HBO "talent" as they film in our small town. (I'm thinking of walking Ranger nearby and see if he is "discovered".) So maybe tomorrow we ought to go shooting. I think I'm recovered enough for at least the handguns and maybe a few test rounds through my new baby...
As everything seems to spiral around me, roadkill eyes reflecting the dark wings above, I turn to things that bring an ease to the soul. One of those things is drums. I don't know why but the intensity herein thrills me. Always has. Primal, strong, stirring, and full of integrity...the video is shakey but not needed anyway. Just listen and sharpen something. (Lift of the kilt to the kind soul in Rachel Lucas' comments for the referral...)
Just in time for Sunday's trip to Plantersville...shall I dress for it? I don't know. I usually do but then I also used to go alone. It is Fantasy weekend, after all...and I need that escape just now.