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Quote of the Day

So let me get this straight. This is a long sentence.

We are going to be gifted with a health care plan that we are forced to purchase, and fined if we don’t, which reportedly covers 10 million more people without adding a single new doctor, but provides for 16,000 new IRS agents, written by a committee whose chairman doesn’t understand it, passed by Congress, that didn’t read it, but exempted themselves from it, and signed by a president who smokes, with funding administered by a treasury chief who didn’t pay his taxes, for which we will be taxed for four years before any benefits take effect, by a government which has bankrupted Social Security and Medicare, all to be overseen by a surgeon general who is obese and financed by a country that is broke.

So what the blank could possibly go wrong?

— Dr. Barbara Beller, former Benedictine nun, Major in the Army Reserves, physician, educator, lawyer, small business owner, and candidate for the 18th District of the Illinois State Senate,  during a speech in support of Mitt Romney.

Heck, I’d vote for her just on that one sentence alone.  That’s quite a resume.  I dub her “Chicago Renaissance Woman”.

30 Days of Obama – Day 1

You got these $10,000-a-plate dinners and Golden Circles Clubs. I think when the average voter looks at that, they rightly feel they’re locked out of the process. They can’t attend a $10,000 breakfast and they know that those who can are going to get the kind of access they can’t imagine — 1996

My Take – What a difference 16 years makes.  When our consulate in Benghazi was burning and the blood of our ambassador was not yet dry on the street he was dragged down, Mr. Obama was off to Las Vegas to attend a fundraiser put on by rich entertainers.  I’m sure the tickets to the event weren’t free.  Mr. Obama, along with his frenemy Bill Clinton, are the most aggressive political fundraisers I have ever seen.  The swag sold on his campaign’s website is breathtaking in both variety and price.  Heck, he even tried to convince young brides to donate the money they would normally spend on their wedding to his campaign.  Look up “chutzpah” in the dictionary, and the graphic he used in that ad campaign ought to be there. 

What’s next?  “Hey, there, young student!  Don’t you think that money you borrowed to get your education would be put to a better use in the President Obama’s war chest?  He’s the only thing standing between you and the gutter, you know.”?  Or maybe “Hey there, senior citizen!  That money you saved and all that Social Security cash you earned over the past few decades really isn’t yours, now is it?  Just sign over that check to our dear leader, President Obama.  He’s going to make sure those young people who make too much money don’t push you over a cliff onto an ice flow.”.

You know, I better stop before I start giving someone ideas.

30 Days of Tolkien – Day 30

Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement. For even the very wise cannot see all ends. — Fellowship of the Ring

My Take – The decision to defend yourself is one that must be done with a lot of thought beforehand.  Can you live with the consequences of harming another, even if they are intent on harming you?

Inquiries About A Young Barbarian

DaddyBear the Minivandian settled into his throne, a flagon of cold ale in his hand, to watch the gladiatorial match between the Beasts of the City of Winds and the Young Herders of the city of the Lone Star.  His day had been long and grueling, and he wished to finish it and rest.  As he considered the merits of both hordes, his mate, the Lady of Eire, came unto him.

“My love,” she purred, “the mage who instructs our son, the Young Prince, at the temple of learning, hath sent with him a scroll of questioning.  He wishes to know how we perceive our son’s progress.  Please, give unto me your undivided attention so that we may give this matter our full effort.”

With a sigh, the Minivandian muttered the spell to dismiss the images upon the box of talking heads, put down his flagon of ale, and took up a quill to fill out the answers as he and his wife read the questions.

  • Question – Can thine child count unto twenty, without the aid of his toes?
    • Answer – Yes, but occasionally he shall lose his way and begin to count backwards into the evil region where numbers are less than zero, and then his toes start to disappear until he counts forwards again.
  • Question – Hast thine child an imaginary friend?
    • Answer – Yes, if thou shalt count the demon he summoned in the cellar last Candlemas, which yet still lurks in the darkness.
  • Question – Dost thine child enjoy having a tome read aloud to him?
    • Answer – Yes.  He especially enjoys hearing passages from the grimoire he found buried in our courtyard.
  • Question – Doth thine child enjoy playing with his pets?
    • Answer – Yes.  He hath trained our hounds to defend him while he rests.  However, the cats become as if possessed with a foul spirit when he enters the room.
  • Question – Dost thine child try to hurt other people?
    • Answer – Yes, but the neighborhood is a better place now that those orcish children no longer walk the earth.

Upon finishing these questions and others, the Minivandian and the Lady of Eire found a page with activities the Young Prince was to perform.  My lord DaddyBear called his son to his chamber of entertainment, so that he could fulfill the instructions of the master mage of learning.

First, the Young Prince was asked to describe his pet dragon.  With a lilting voice that reminded the Minivandian of the accent of his mother’s ancestors, the Prince described the glittering of its scales, the heat of its breath, and the sharpness of its teeth and claws.  DaddyBear marked upon the scroll the success of this endeavor.  The Minivandian made a mental note to take the drake to the master of beasts for a check-up and claw-clipping.

Next, the Young Prince was asked to stand upon one leg for a time.  At first, the Young Prince was confused about what was being asked, but eventually found the correct way to accomplish this.  Pleased by the praise heaped upon him by the Lady of Eire, he smiled and pulled up his other leg and hung in the air until his father told him to put his feet back upon the ground.

Last, the Young Prince was tested on his ability to handle quill and paper.  As the Lady of Eire told him to make different runes, the Young Prince marked the scroll.  As he made the last mark, a clap of thunder shook the manor of the Minivandian.  A cold wind blew down through the chimney, and the scroll of questions burst into flames.

Bellowing a counter curse, my lord DaddyBear used his mighty hand to smother the flames before they could consume the entire scroll.  Looking down upon the paper, the countenance of a mighty balrog, its head wreathed in flame, looked back at him.

“Minivandian!  I pledge that I shall never bother your realm again, so long as you pledge to place upon this young terror a leash!  He hath called upon me four times this fortnight alone!  Even I, a creature who relishes the suffering of your race, have no wish to be ripped across the threshold between our realms so often!”

Nodding his agreement, the Minivandian finished patting out the smoldering remnants of the page.  A smell of burning parchment and brimstone hung in the air.  After ensuring that the hellfire produced by his son had been extinguished, he fixed upon him a baleful glare.

“Princeling!  Harken unto me!  From this moment forward, I forbid you to summon unto this realm any creature, be it of flesh or fire or spirit, without my permission.  You shall only do this when I, or your mother, or the mage of learning instruct you to do so, and then only in a manner that keeps the creature within a place of safety.  Dost thou understand?”  rumbled the Minivandian, trying to look as stern and fierce as he could.

“Aye, father, I do.” chirped the Young Prince.  “I shall refrain from summoning such creatures.  Such a task has become childs play to me.  May I begin to learn to tame the beasts of the forest and of the fen and of the mountain crag instead?”

“Yes, my son, you may.  Just remember to not bring them into your mother’s house until she has told you that she will allow it.” answered DaddyBear. “You are too young to remember the trouble your sister got into when she brought a small creature, foul of countenance and aroma, into the house on the day of Thanksgiving.  I would wish that you not have to endure the trial of your mother’s tears and wrath.”

The Young Prince skipped off to inquire of his sister, Listens to Stories, as to where he might find such a creature.   The Lady of Eire scooped up the charred scroll, placed her hand upon the Minivandian’s shoulder, and then left to renew the spells of warding which she had placed upon the manor after the incident with the basilisk.

DaddyBear uttered the spell to energize the box of talking heads, finding that he still had much of the match of gladiators to enjoy.  His flagon of beer in hand, he settled back.  While he watched the mighty titans clash against each other, he thought of the terror that had sprung from his loins and was at that very moment plotting to do something that was probably quite offensive and sticky.  After much thought, he realized that the boy took after his father, and his father, and his father before him.  Such a tradition was honorable, and a smile broke across his face as he recalled the trouble he had gotten when his grandmother had discovered his own pet dragon.  Such memories are what make life worth living, and DaddyBear hoped that his progeny would also have such things to reflect upon when his own children tried to burn down the family abode.

The Young Prince did indeed learn to tame the beasts of the forest and of the fen and of the mountain crag.  Many times did the Lady of Eire have to mutter strong spells to drive off these beasts, who occasionally lost their tameness once they were no longer in the grasp of the Young Prince.  The Minivandian grew happy as he watched the young barbarian grow, and in so doing, he knew that the honor of his family would continue with the next generation.

30 Days of Tolkien – Day 29

Wars are not favourable to delicate pleasures. — A Secret Vice

My Take – I was not a front-line soldier.  If I had stayed in, I would probably have been classified as a ‘fobbit’.   I only saw the remnants of battles.  On one occasion, I saw the human suffering a mortar barrage can bring in a very up close and personal way.  On several other occasions, I came across evidence that places that were blasted, burned, run over, or just plain screwed up were once beautiful communities.  Those who thought that the military was polished boots, PT at dawn, and weekends off to go wandering the Bavarian countryside had an awful time dealing with what happens when the god of battle awakens.

Too many of the people I have met think that war is like a video game or a movie.  They cannot conceive that there is nothing glamorous or glorious in what remains once the battle is over.  People do not simply fall over and then disappear on a real battlefield.  Soldiers and civilians who are hurt but survive can spend years recovering.  Beautiful places that have stood for centuries can be destroyed in minutes, and they don’t magically rebuild because someone hit a reset button.  Getting the idea across that war is an ugly thing that should be the option that is exercised after all other options have failed is one of the hardest things I do.

 

Today’s Earworm

This seemed appropriate.

 

Thoughts on the Weekend

  • I’m pretty sure Irish Woman’s journal entry for tonight will begin “Dear Diary, Today I worked my husband like a rented mule.”.
  • The gods of do-it-yourself hate me.  A bottle of concrete sealer cost $25.  We bought 2.  I hoped to do it with one and return the other one to the store.
    • It took precisely 1.10 bottles of concrete sealer to put two coats on our concrete porch.
    • I may be able to use the rest when I reseal our patio, but don’t count on it. That may not happen until next spring and by then I may have a chunk of nice, glossy plastic in the shape of the inside of a bottle
  • Dear Lumber Manufacturers – 8 feet is 96 inches.  Not 96.25, nor is it 96.5, or even 95.5.  96.  Out of 38 decking boards I worked with today, 25 of them were 96.25, 12 were 96.5, and one was 95.5.   Someday I will find you and I will spend an enjoyable evening running the antique furniture in your boardroom through a wood chipper.
  • Tapcon concrete screws are a wonder of modern engineering.  Tapcon masonry drill bits are a ball of suck and fail.
  • Tally of materials for the weekend –
    • 12 10 foot 2×4, pressure treated
    • 10 8 foot 2×4, pressure treated
    • 38 8 foot (see above note) 5/4×6 pressure treated decking planks
    • 5 pounds of 2 1/2 inch decking screws
    • 42 Tapcon screws
    • 1 Tapcon drill bit, broken in two while in use
    • 2 new Bosch masonry bits, one of which lost its temper while trying to drill through a piece of aggregate
    • 2 batteries for the cordless drill, completely drained
    • 1 15mg Meloxicam
    • 3 325mg Aspirin
    • 3 beers
    • 3 quarts of water
  • It is amazing what you will find when you pull the bottom two or three rows of siding off of an old house.
  • You know you’re funky when you spend as much time cleaning the tub after your shower as you did cleaning yourself.
  • The top deck of the porch is done.  Next weekend I will build the step for the front of the porch, cover all vertical surfaces in a manner yet to be determined, and begin planning and design for the porch extension off the back of the bloody thing.
    • I just keep repeating “I love my wife and I want her to be happy, for when she is happy, I have the opportunity for happiness” as I do these things.

30 Days of Tolkien – Day 28

‘How shall a man judge what to do in such times?’   ‘As he ever has judged,’ said Aragorn. ‘Good and ill have not changed since yesteryear; nor are they one thing among Elves and Dwarves, and another among Men. It is a man’s part to discern them, as much in the Golden Wood as in his own house.’ — The Two Towers

My Take – Conflict and bad times do not change what is right and what is wrong.  I hope that my ethics and morals are strong enough that when things get tough, I will not compromise them in order to make life easier.  Taking the hard right over the easy wrong doesn’t just apply when it’s easy to do.  It’s even more important when it’s hard to do.

Our Afternoon Visitors

 

Having hot air balloons buzz the back yard is one of the benefits of where we live.

30 Days of Tolkien – Day 27

The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater. — Fellowship of the Ring

My Take – I talk a lot of doom and gloom around here.  There seems to be a lot of that going around these days, but to be honest, the world has always been ending.  The point of being prepared, of standing up for what’s yours, and defending that which you value is to keep the bright and sunny spots in life there for you when you need them.  The world is indeed awash in blood and tears, but it is also awash in joy and song.  Concentrating on the bad things in life for too long makes a person pessimistic and unable to see the good that the world contains.