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Musings

  • Note to self – When your wife asks if you think she’s pretty, do not answer: “Were I not a married man, I would take you in a manly fashion” unless she’s as big a geek as you.
  • Asked at the dinner table – What’s the difference between a hormone and a pheremone?
    • DaddyBear’s Answer – A hormone makes it so you can grow a mustache.  A pheremone makes you not care if she has a mustache.
  • I’m not saying that putting the strawberry beds together wasn’t hard, but when you’ve slapped boards together to make dirt-holding containers in which to grow a cup and a half of produce every year as often as I have, it comes pretty easy.
  • The blackberry frame I put up, apparently, resembles a gallows.  Hey, you build what you know.
  • You know you’ve married the right woman when she agrees that a used bourbon barrel would make a good addition to our patio furniture.
  • Went to the big gun store this weekend, and they actually had a lot of ammunition.  An ammo can of .308 was as much as a decent rifle in .308 used to cost, but hey, there’s ammo.
  • One good thing about all the work to remove movies and books that some find problematic is that it motivates me to check to see if I already own a physical copy of it and correct the situation if I don’t.

Musings

  • Now that the latest round of political silliness is over in Washington, I’m looking forward to previews of next season. Here are some leaks that I’ve been able to make up from whole cloth get from insiders:  SPOILER ALERT!
    • That crafty Jill Biden (Secretly a doctor, not sure if witch or otherwise) is going to do an homage to Weekend at Bernie’s, except this time, Bernie Sanders is actually going to be helping her wheel her husband around the West Wing.  Hijinks will ensue as Kamala Harris continually tries to find, fix, and fornicate her way to the top.
    • Nancy Pelosi will start a major subplot as she desperately searches for a virgin, or at least someone of semi-questionable virtue, in Washington DC to sacrifice on the altar of eternal decrepitude.  Mitch McConnell will play the part of a greek chorus as he stands by and clucks his tongue at her.
    • Kamala Harris, safe from Pelosi’s machinations, will continually up her game as she tries to knock Joe Biden out of the White House.  This will be filmed in a series of shots where she talks directly to the camera and describes her latest scheme to bump the old man off.  Think Scooby Doo meets Spy versus Spy meets Pinky and the Brain meets Dirty Jobs.
    • The Christmas episode will be fantastic.  Dr. Jill and the entire White House press corps will decorate Grandpa Joe, with Jen Psaki circling back around to place a bright red star on top of his pointed little head.  Kamala Harris will feature heavily in this episode, as Willie Brown appears as the “Sugar Daddy of Christmas Past”.
    • The season finale will be off the hook.  Literally.  The episode will center around Joe losing the nuclear football and ripping the red phone to the Kremlin out of the wall during a tantrum started when he is denied a second pudding cup after his morning nap.  The entire cast will search the White House high and low as a clock counts down to when a badly-worded Groundhog’s Day presidential proclamation will unleash nuclear armageddon.
  • I’d like to thank the National Weather Service for announcing a winter weather advisory at 3:11 in the morning.  I’d like to thank the local emergency announcement program for alerting me, via text message and robocall, to the coming descent of white death onto the hellscape of the greater Louisville area at 3:12 in the morning.
    • For various reasons, my mind equates “phone ringing at 3:12 AM” as “somebody is hurt, someone has died, or work is on fire”.
    • After acknowledging both the telephone call and the adrenaline dump, I fell back into a stress-dream-filled sleep for a few hours.  There’s no sleep like “Hey, you remember that one time something happened and you can’t even tell a therapist about it?” dreams.
  • Irish Woman is trying to set me up.  “I don’t need anything for Valentine’s Day” indeed.
    • I know my darling wife is likely to be involved in my death somehow, but I’m not going to make her inevitable acquittal that easy.
    • For the record: pearl stud earrings, pearl and diamond pendant necklace, and lavender roses.

Musings

  • In a couple of weeks, Irish Woman and I will be celebrating the 20th anniversary of the day we met.  Where has the time gone?
    • Flirtation when Irish Woman and I first met – “Are you single?”
    • Flirtation today – “You’re going to miss that finger when I bite it off.”
  • Irish Woman wants a pool.  I do not want a pool.
    • We compromised.  The pool will be installed in March or April.
    • I will say this – I have no plans to ever get in the pool.  I may be a stubborn ass, but I’m a principled stubborn ass.  I will be content to sit on the deck and watch her clean the pool.
  • Plans for the garden –
    • Build four 2 foot by 8 foot by 1 foot raised beds.  Fill with dirt, peat moss, and acidifier, then plant tomatoes and peppers
    • Build 3-tiered 4 foot by 6 foot x 3 foot strawberry bed
    • Build and plant herb garden
    • Acquire and plant 3 to 5 blueberry bushes, probably in bourbon barrel planters
    • Plant blackberry patch after constructing something for them to grow up
    • Possibly plant some cherry trees
  • Writing continues, slowly.  I’m outlining several different things at the same time, and writing another.  Either my output is going to be a (brief) firehose this year, or I’m not going to get a darned thing done.
    • Novellette/Novella in the Via Serica series.
    • Next in the Boogeyman series
    • Several short stories for a collection I’m thinking of putting together.
    • Maybe, possibly, one more Minivandian.
    • Another project that is very much in the nebulous “Hmmm, I wonder if I can do something with that?” phase.
  • I had to go into my office to get something the other night, and I realized just how little I miss the commute and long trek in from the parking lot.  Maybe working from home semi-permanently isn’t such a bad thing.
  • We are hoping that Boo will be able to attend Boy Scout and Fish&Wildlife camps this summer.  If he can’t, I will set up a tent in the backyard for him, then use the dogs to drive wildlife through his campsite at all hours of the night so that he gets something of the experience.  If I can’t find wildlife, I will dress the dogs up and stampede them over the top of his tent.

Musings

  • So, Joe Biden and wasshername are going to be in the White House here in a couple of weeks.  Guess we’ll just have to see how bad it can get.  I’m not hopeless, but I’m not exactly hopeful either.
    • Look for any progress made in the last 4 years to be washed away in a few months.  ObamaCare is coming back, the Iran deal will be back on the table, and contracts to tear down the border fencing will likely be advertised by the end of the year.
    • Republican resistance will either be stubbornly ferocious or they will fold like a cheap suit.  Guess where the smart money is placing their bets.
    • We’re about to find out if all those judicial nominations were worth it.
    • If you’re not donating to your favorite political and/or litigation group yet, what’s keeping you?
  • Made a trip out of town on Saturday to buy bacon.  You read that right:  I drove almost an hour from home to visit a little ma-and-pa store to buy bacon for Irish Woman.
    • When our grocery store is selling decent bacon for almost $12 a pound, and better bacon can be had for $5 a pound, it’s worth the effort.
    • Picked up some Amish butter, because Amish butter, and a few jars of locally-canned jam.  Elderberry jelly reminds me of something my grandmother would have made, and Traffic Jam (rhubarb, strawberry, and a few other things) just sounded scrumptious.
  • While I was out there, I stopped at one of the larger gun dealers in the area to see what was to be seen.
    • The store was busier than I’ve ever seen it.  Folks weren’t lined up out the door, but it was almost to that point.
    • There were AR-15’s to be had, but they were priced well above my comfort zone.  People were buying them.
    • Nobody seemed to be bothering with short-barreled rifles or suppressors.
    • The only surplus rifles I could find were old, rusty Carcanos, and those were priced at $250.
    • There was a nice selection of pistols, and prices were only slightly above what I remember them being this time last year.
    • Ammunition was thin on the ground.  I saw no 9mm, .45, or .38/.357.  There was also no 5.56, although there was a limited supply of .308 and 7.26×39.
    • There was also some .22, 7.62x54r, and .30-06, but that was all going for about 50 cents a cartridge.
    • .25 was available, but it was even more expensive.
    • There was no buck shot to be seen, and only a few boxes of slugs were available. They did have lots of bird shot.
    • If you’re looking for odd rifle calibers, you’re probably OK.  There was also a lot of 10mm for hand held boomenmachers, if that’s your thing.
    • I picked up a new bore snake, because happiness is a clean gun, and a couple pounds of coffee.   I’m not really in the market for a gun at these prices, and while I’d like more ammunition, I don’t need it in the calibers they had available.
    • When I checked out, one of the employees remarked that they are getting a shipment of ammunition in every day, but they don’t know what’s coming.  Their distributor is just sending what’s available.
    • Apparently a pallet each of 9mm and 5.56 were put on the floor yesterday morning.  The 9mm was gone in an hour, the 5.56 was gone in two.
  • Well, it looks like my days of working from home are coming to a middle.  Our return to work date has been pushed out a few more months.
    • I’m not complaining. I miss seeing some of my co-workers, and my reading is down a lot since I don’t have a commute with an audiobook every day, but being able to roll out of bed, have a cup of coffee, get cleaned up, and then get to work in less than an hour is kind of nice.

Thought for the Day

Good morning, Happy New Year.

Hindsight is now 2020.

That is all.

Go get some caffeine and report to the couch for the day.

Musings

  • Only mad dogs and Norwegians go to the grocery store two days before Christmas.
  • I literally had six items on my shopping list, plus several gift cards.  I ended up with a half a truck-bed full of groceries.
    • Not sure why, but that old “Make sure your larder is full” feeling came over me when I was in the produce aisle.
  • At this time of year, communication is key.  For example, Irish Woman and I both bought large bunches of rather ripe bananas today.
    • Guess I’ll be making a batch of banana bread tomorrow, and introducing Boo to banana smoothies in the new food processor.
  • Irish Woman and Boo made some jam thumbprint cookies, along with their normal frosted sugar cookies.  I just finished up two dozen each of snickerdoodles and peanut butter cookies.  If I’m feeling froggy tomorrow, it’ll be time to whip up some chocolate chip cookies and the aforementioned banana bread.
    • Food like this will eventually kill me, but I’ll die happy.
  • Irish Woman and Boo spent part of their afternoon going to the neighbors and delivering boxes of donuts from one of the local shops.  From what they told me, their deliveries were quite popular.
  • The weather has finally decided that it’s December, just in time for me to have time to go for walks.  Guess I’ll be that weird neighbor who gets out on the road rain or shine, because if I don’t get out of this house soon, I’m definitely going to be called the weird neighbor, just not for good reasons.

Musings

  • It’s the most wonderful time of the year, with ice pellets falling and customers calling and WAKING UP AT 5 AM TO GET ON A 6 AM CONFERENCE CALL ONLY TO BE TOLD THAT THEY INVITED ME BY MISTAKE!
    • I was invited to the follow-up meeting the following morning AND ONLY SAID 3 WORDS THE ENTIRE HOUR!
    • Some days I think I should have listened to my mother and gotten a job as the piano player in a whorehouse.
  • One problem with not being a Christmas person is that it falls to Irish Woman to decorate the house.  Most years, it’s Whoville and my sanity and electric bill both have issues.
    • This year, due to most of our Christmas junk still tucked away in stacks of identical cardboard boxes, it’s more minimalist.  By more minimalist, I mean that only about 50% of the surfaces in our home have something seasonal laid upon or tacked to them.
    • I have hope that my requests to not purchase more yuletide dreck will be granted.  It’s a forlorn hope, but a hope nonetheless. Maybe there’ll be a Christmas miracle or something.
  • It would appear that the best way to meet the new new neighbors is to just wait for them to bring Moonshine or Derby home after they’ve decided to do some unscheduled, unaccompanied exploring.
    • Another hit seems to be when the neighbors come out on a frosty morning to see why a strange man in bear-print pajama pants, an old tee shirt, and no shoes, is jogging a couple of yards behind a labrador retriever at 7 in the morning on a Sunday.

Musings

  • If you answer “I’m free most nights and weekends” when I ask when you can meet with a vendor, please don’t be surprised when I schedule a meeting with the vendor for 7 PM on Tuesday.
  • Note to Self – If we want to survive until the end of this year, the words “Brown lumps in gray sauce or gray lumps in brown sauce?” should not go through our lips when entering the kitchen and smelling dinner.
  • I took my semi-annual look at my retirement account, and if things keep going well for the stock market, adjusting for inflation, I should be able to retire sometime in my mid-80’s.
    • When I hit the milestones that allow me to retire from the current day job, I think I’m going to explore a new career as a reprobate.  That seems to pay well, at least for those reprobates with titles like ‘Senator’ and “Congressman’.
    • My 401K grew by about 25% this year due to the, IMHO, overheated stock market.  The feeling I have in my gut right now is the same as I have when I’m in the first car on the rollercoaster and we’re approaching the crest of the first big hill.
  • As the holidays approach at breakneck speed, we are all thinking of what to give our loved ones.  This year, be practical – give those you cherish ammunition, magazines, and booze.
    • I’m not saying things look bad when I look into my magic 8 ball, but I’m considering cutting a piece off of an old flag and putting it into my wallet, just in case.
  • Irish Woman and I had our annual “Please don’t buy me anything for Christmas”…. ‘discussion’ the other night.  I took a different tack this year by listing all of the things she and the kids have bought me for Christmas over the decades that met their fates at Goodwill or the bottom of a dumpster when we moved this year.  I’m hoping that this message convinced her that there is absolutely nothing I need nor want and that a good breakfast and some quiet music is all I ask for on Christmas morning.
    • It’s a forlorn hope, I know, but maybe one year I’ll wake up to a hug, a hot cup of coffee, and nothing more waiting for me.
  • Irish Woman tried to convince me to just buy her a bottle of the shampoo she loved back in the 80’s for Christmas, and I laughed in her face.  I don’t have much to live for, but I’m not going down like that.
    • Might as well watch her unwrap a set of steak knives and then go take a nap.

Musings

  • Note to self – Never trust a labrador retriever with cranberry nut bread on his breath.
    • Corollary – Always buy twice as much seasonal baking supplies as you think you will need.
  • Note to self – Never try to do business with the bank where you set a very hard to remember password before you’ve had at least one pot of coffee.
  • Note to self – When you find yourself failing the “Prove you’re not a robot by clicking on pictures” test for 10 minutes, it’s time for another pot of coffee.
  • Note to self – Shutting off the main water supply valve to the house was probably overkill when replacing the water filter on the “Oh my god, how much did they spend on that?” refrigerator, but it was a heck of a lot easier than trying to move said appliance and find the one right next to the fool thing.
  • Mathematical and Budgetary Grumblings:
    • The new filter is good for 300 gallons.
    • A gallon of water weighs about 10 pounds, or 160 ounces.
    • There are 20 8-ounce glasses of water in a gallon.
    • 20 glasses of water per gallon times 300 gallons equals 6000 glasses of cold, refreshing, filtered water for your son and wife who can no longer drink water straight from the tap for some reason.
    • At $33 per filter, that comes to about half a cent of additional cost per glass of water.
      • That, of course, assumes that my time to purchase and replace filters is worth nothing.
    • If I had asked to spend half a penny every time I needed to wet my whistle as a child, I would have been smacked upside the head until I got my mind right and went outside to drink from the hose.
  • Catching the fencing contractor relieving himself in the neighbor’s tree line makes for some laughter on the job site after the Irish Woman admonishes him.
    • Having the neighbor catch said contractor in the tree line leads to DaddyBear baking some treats and a visit to the neighbor’s back porch.
  • Moonshine and Derby love the new fenced in back yard.  The other dogs in the neighborhood, who are smart enough to be allowed to go out into their own backyards to read the newspaper without triggering a canine Amber Alert, came over to investigate the new thing and new dogs.  A good time was had by all, and the new furry friends all went home after ‘marking’ the new fence several times.
    • Poor Moonshine then spent the better part of the the morning recycling bowl water to reclaim his fence.
  • You know, after 20 years as a couple, you’d think my wife would know the answer before asking “Honey, would you have a problem having bears close to our cabin?”.

Musings

  • Irish Woman was delighted this morning when I called her my angel.  The context was ‘angel of death’, but she takes what she can get.
  • It occurs to me that the large number of people who treat politics as a blood sport are about to find out what blood tastes like.
  • Folks who do shady stuff in the dead of the night need to remember that there are cameras everywhere and the Internet is forever.
  • There’s nothing like starting a new project that requires expert knowledge and years of experience at your shiny new job, but you’re still at the ‘My blocks won’t stay on top of each other when I throw my juice box at them!’ level of expertise.
  • I am learning to take non-verbal queues quite well.  For instance, when the dude in charge of the crew installing our new fence looked me in the eye, and said, “Thanks, but we’re good.  Don’t worry about lunch or coffee or anything like that.” I correctly understood that to mean “No, really, we just want to get this job done and get out of the cold.  Go away, please.”
  • The life of a mammal is hard around  here.  Why, just today, Moonshine had to decide whether to lay on the carpet in the living room and watch the guys work in the back yard on his new enclosed toilet, or to lay on the carpet in my office and watch me make money so I could buy his dog food.
  • DaddyBear’s “Summon Cold and Wet Weather Spell” – purchase the components for an outdoor fireplace, light exactly one fire in it, then watch the sleet roll in.
  • The yearly ‘disagreement’ over what to get each other for Christmas has begun.  Normally, I default to getting Irish Woman jewelry, and she buys me ammunition.  Unfortunately, the price of lead and copper is approaching the low end of jewels and silver, so I’ve ruled that out. 
    • I will point out that there have been no protestations from her that would preclude me from acquiring more ‘twinkle’, as she calls it, to adorn my beloved wife.
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