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Musings

  • I started a new injection today for my arthritis.  Possible side effects are ravenous hunger, abnormal hair growth, irritability, and an aversion to silver.
    • Am I the only one craving really, really rare lamb right now?
  • DaddyBear’s Maxim of Yard Work – Do not mow the lawn until after Memorial Day and do not rake leaves until after the first wind storm.
    • However, if it’s snowing, you better be out there shoveling while it’s still coming down.
  • I told my boss the other day that I was officially changing my title to “Designated Guilty Bastard”.
    • He may have thought I was joking.
    • If the reward for doing a job well is more of that job, I just be doing pretty good.
  • We turned on the furnace for the first time tonight.
    • Apparently, we were also making a burnt offering to some arcane deity in our ductwork.
    • Usually, we get a couple months of fall between turning off the air conditioning and turning on the furnace.  This year, we got a week and a half.
  • I was feeling pretty good about Boo and I getting out of the house this morning.  No bad attitude, no sharp words. We even got in the truck ahead of schedule.  We had a few extra minutes to listen to a Larry Correia audiobook and talk about the day before the doors to school opened.
    • Truly, it was a great way to start the morning.
    • Then Boo got out and noticed that he’d forgotten his lunch on the counter.
    • Oh, well, there are worse things to forget.  One of his uncles once forgot his left shoe and didn’t realize it until he was halfway to school.

Musings

  • For the first time in 25 years, I have taken one of my sprogs fishing and been able to get my own hook wet.  I will call that a victory.
  • There is nothing like the feeling you get when your wife notices a juvenile raccoon pushing its head through a previously overlooked hole in the screen door.
    • It had a sibling.
    • Hijinks ensued.
    • When I spoke to the maintenance fellow at the lake resort about it, he chuckled and said we were lucky it wasn’t a bear.
  • On a related note, I told Irish Woman that she could only adopt a raccoon if she promised to sit on the porch and drink beer with it on hot Kentucky afternoons.
  • If you’re going to fish at the bottom of a big dam, you better keep an ear open for the warning sirens.
    • If you are in a boat and do not heed the warning sirens, you better be pretty good at handling your boat in rough water.
  • Irish Woman and I thought Rock House was really neat, until we realized that we were about 10 miles downstream from the dam.  That would be the dam we saw them open the gates on an hour earlier, causing the river level to rise several feet in about two minutes.
    • The mud 20 yards up from the river, dotted with dead minnows, during a time when we hadn’t gotten rain in weeks, convinced us that we shouldn’t linger.
  • Note to self – When visiting a distillery, visit the gift shop before going to the bar.  It gets a tad expensive when you do it the other way ’round.
  • During out meander south, we visited one of my favorite gun stores.
    • I took a long look at a Mossberg in 20 gauge for Boo.  One may be following us home soon.
    • Ruger has apparently caught lightning in a bottle with the Wrangler, its new single-action .22 revolver.   I am currently number 30 on the waiting list and should have the revolver I bought last week sometime around Christmas.
  • Remember what I said about getting a suppressor?  Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever have that much disposable income.
    • Yet another example of government regulation making something that should be inexpensive and convenient costly and a pain in the butt.
  • Our 15th anniversary is coming up in a month or three.  That’s the ‘crystal’ anniversary.  I already know what I’m getting Irish Woman.  She has no idea what to get me, but I told her that the finely ground glass in a good rifle scope might count.

Musings

  • For once, air travel was quite pleasant.
    • Seriously, even the TSA people were pleasant and helpful.
    • I can’t even complain about New Jersey drivers, much. The drive between Newark airport and undisclosed location was, for the most part, uneventful.
  • I do believe, however, that I shall never frequent the hotel I stayed at again.  It wasn’t the condition of the room (mediocre), the dearth of water warmer than piss, or even the lack of pressure for said piss-warm water.  It was the fire alarm sounding at odd times, usually when I was trying to sleep.
  • Scheduling a conference in Manhattan on the same day that the United Nations was meeting was probably not the best move somebody could have made.  Looking on the bright side, I got an opportunity to observe New York street life for three hours as we crept along through traffic.
    • Some people call it The Big Apple. I’m thinking it’s more like the The Big Anthill.  How can so many people stand being so close to each other?
  • Newark is one of those cities where there are islands of good places, surrounded by high fences and unarmed guards, in a sea of crackheads, strip clubs, and burned out cars.
    • Seriously, I expected to see roving bands of undead to complete the scene

Musings

  • There’s no “I” in “TEAM”, but there are a couple in “PEDANTIC TWIT”.  Make a note of it.
  • Taking Boo to the doctor for a suspected case of strep throat exposed me to some of the latest examples of the creeping crud.  Luckily, he doesn’t have strep and is already feeling better.  I, on the other hand, feel like I got hit with a truck.
  • I finally forced myself to sit down and get the middle part of the current work in progress down on paper.  4000 words later, it’s just shy of 20,000 words.
    • I was shooting for a short story.  Oh, well.
  • I’m going to be traveling to New Jersey and New York for business next week.  I’m not dumb enough to try to figure out how to take along a firearm, so I’ve been researching knife laws.
    • Holy crap.  Basically, if I don’t want to buy a folding butter knife for the trip I’m down to Boo’s Cub Scout knife.  I’m not even sure that would be legal.
    • Do people there just use their teeth to open things or what?

Musings

  • Boo has managed to forget his lunchbox at school for five days in a row.
    • I told him that tomorrow is the last day I put his lunch in a brown paper bag.
    • The day after that, he takes his lunch in a plastic grocery bag.
    • The day after that, he takes his lunch in a diaper bag.
    • Boo thought that was funny.  Irish Woman is afraid I might be serious.  I’m trying to figure out where I put the old diaper bags.
  • It’s amazing that there are people in the world who get peeved when told by someone, who is so high in the food chain that they’re not even breathing the same air as the rest of us, that they have to do as they’re told, when they’re told.
  • The grooming standard at work has changed enough that I can grow a beard out, so I am.
    • Last time I could grow one, something something years ago, I didn’t shave for over two years.  It got long enough that I could braid it, and it had quite a lot of red and blonde in it.
    • I shaved when I interviewed for the current day job.  Since then, I’ve never gone more than a few days without shaving.
    • Now, after a month of growth, I can see that Father Time has spent the last something something years kicking my butt.
    • All of the blonde and red is now white and silver, and there are only patches of brown.  Seriously, if I didn’t still shave my neck and scowl a lot, I’d look like Santa Claus.
    • Irish Woman has suggested dying it, but I’d rather look old than look like I’d just dipped my beard in a can of shoe polish.
    • Oh well, I’d rather look ‘distinguished’ than have my usual baby face.
  • Recovery from my surgery is going well.  I’m out of the bandages and the stitches in my finger are out.  I’ve got a rather nice scar, and I’m learning to type with the new normal in my index finger.
    • I tried dry firing with a pistol and a rifle this weekend.  The ‘fixed’ finger is still functional, but I think I’ll pull the living heck out of the trigger if I use it on anything but a hair trigger.  Time to start dry firing with my middle finger.
  • Speaking of guns, I’ve had a hankering for a suppressor lately.  Unfortunately, Irish Woman has a hankering for a new house next year, and Boo has hankerings for, well, just about everything that a boy needs to grow.  You know, like three whole meals a day, clothes that fit his growing body once month, and let’s not forget that whole ‘educate him so he moves out someday’ requirement.

Musings

  • My hand surgeon was less than enthusiastic about my suggestion that it might be easier to just take my finger off rather than fusing one of the knuckles.
    • In my defense, I had already been given my pre-surgery meds and I was as high as a kite at the time.
  • A nerve block that makes it so I not only can’t feel your entire right arm, but cannot even twitch my fingers is one of the oddest things I’ve ever experienced.
  • Irish Woman is always watching out for me.  She even took away my phone when my stoned self was looking to buy $1700 plane tickets to North Dakota.
  • You know, if Boo’s out in the front yard and I’m in the basement, and I can hear him scream when he falls out of the tree swing, you know he hurt something really bad.
  • Poor Irish Woman.  She was just getting me to the point where I was semi-functional when Boo needed to be taken for X-rays.  I’m just glad we stocked up on bourbon during our mini-vacation.
  • Boo ended up with a broken foot, a set of crutches, and a bad attitude.
  • He does, however, seem to enjoy the knee scooter the orthopedist rented to us so that he has a bit more mobility.
    • Now to convince him that it’s not a skateboard.
  • I’ve been trying to write, I really have.  But typing when you don’t have use of one of your index fingers is really, really hard.

Musings

  • I got a very nice letter from the new Mercedes dealership today urging me to bring my truck in for a trade-in.
    • Apparently they’re desperate for 7 year old plain-jane F150’s at the high-end Euromobile store.
    • Unfortunately, Mercedes doesn’t make a long-bed truck.
    • I did, however, see a crew cab, 8 foot bed, F250 today and I got very covetous.
  • Question – How many pleats can a kilt have before the balding hipster has to admit that he’s cross-dressing?
    • There has to be line separating “rugged individualist” from “flouncy”
  • When the orthopedic nurse winces at your xray, maybe you’ve let your joints go too far.
  • I’m going to be having surgery soon to fuse a knuckle in my trigger finger.  This will mean I either have to learn to shoot left handed or use my middle finger.  Since I shoot mainly to relieve stress, the middle finger isn’t a bad option.

Musings

  • I’m sure that it was merely a coincidence that Irish Woman planned our little getaway so that we stayed at a lodge across the lake from Boo’s summer camp.
  • Boo managed to lose his right sneaker, his right shower shoe, his wallet, and one of the badges he earned while at camp.
    • That, right there, is talent, pure talent.
  • I learned this week that I have developed expensive tastes.  When presented with a flight of mid to high end bourbons, my favorite was the $250 a bottle barrel-strength selection.
  • Contrasts in dining experiences:
    • Tuesday night, we had cheap appetizers and beer in plastic cups while we fed bits of bread to ducks and turtles.  We had to finish up quickly, because the dock-side restaurant was about to be blown away by the remnants of a hurricane.
    • Wednesday night, we had dinner at a high-end restaurant in Louisville, with meticulously crafted pasta and sauce.  Our dinner companions ranged from a middle-aged accountant with either a wholly improperly dressed daughter or a very well dressed trophy wife, along with the usual assortment of hipsters and retirees.
    • Personally, I preferred the ducks and cheap beer.
  • You know you’ve gone outside of the big city when you notice that all of the folks in the neighborhood have bear-proof trash containers.
  • There are two kinds of people who guide you through a bourbon tasting:
    • “You will notice that the nose of this single-barrel, small-batch bourbon includes caramel, charcoal briquets, and tooled leather.  A small sip will bring you a spiciness on the front end, with sweet notes of cherry, vanilla, and and pipe tobacco.  The finish is warm and sustained.”
    • “Now, take a sniff of that glass in front of you.  Good, huh?  Take a sip, there, and roll it around a bit.  You’ll taste the rye on the tip of your tongue, and the sugar in the middle.  That baby will burn all the way down.  That’s what we call the Kentucky Hug.”

Musings

  • Things I am not allowed to say aloud at the mall:
    • If that woman gets one more face lift, she’s going to have a goatee.
    • Look, sweetheart, they’re having a sale at the maternity store!
    • Do you want weasel on a stick or deep fried weasel wrapped in pretzel?
    • Is that the sushi bar or the foot massage place I smell?
  • Only Satan would put the Lego store next to the Apple store. But, I will forgive them for the new Apollo 11 set. Now, how do I justify $100 for a bunch of legos?
  • If I walk past four empty booths to get to your hostess station, don’t tell me there won’t be a table-for-two available for 35 minutes.
  • They say don’t eat your feelings. I say eat something so that your feelings don’t slip their leash and consume the world.

America Invicta

On this day in 1776, a group of men stood together to declare that they were more than subjects of a faraway power. They declared that there were certain things worth fighting for, worth dying for.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.–That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, –That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. 

Now, 243 years later, we need reminding that we are descended from such men. We need reminding that, as citizens, we rule those we choose to serve in government. We need reminding that, should we not hang together, we shall certainly hang separately.

No matter how much we disagree, or how deeply our disagreements cut, that we are all Americans. We breathe the same air, rise from the same soil, bleed the same lifeblood for our cause. Yes, we come from a myriad of peoples and experiences. Yes, there has been injustice in our history, as well as our present.

We do not always meet the standard we set for ourselves, but it should never be for lack of trying.

Now, we stand apart from one another, and we risk destroying all that has been built and achieved in 243 years of strife and striving.

Even as we teeter on the edge of the abyss, we must hold one another up. We must stand together, unconquered, unbowed. No matter what the world, or even we ourselves, throw at us, we should never forget that we are Americans, by birth or by choice.

Together, there is nothing we cannot accomplish, nothing we cannot defend. Only we can bring down this shining city upon a hill, only we can destroy what the blood of patriots has purchased.

I wish all of you the joy of this Independence Day, no matter how you choose to celebrate.

America Invicta, so long as we stand together.

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