Sunday, October 30, 2016



Made up my mind and came here early last week to announce a “time out”, a HIATUS. Back on the 4th of December was the plan. But one comment said thanks for posting and that was all it took. Just one person. So, instead of cutting the reins for awhile, I will try simple and short for a few weeks.

These past two weeks have been a good test for me/us here with things going wrong. Little things that change the contents of a normal day extending into normal weeks.

Mechanical things fail and I have never given this much thought in the After. We have back-up, but would no longer have had the convenience of an in-home system. That would be a daily chore to have hot water. We still had electricity, but lost the hot water heating system and one heating zone from multiple inline failures. 

I will take these past few weeks as notice that we need to pay closer attention to the things we do have, to make sure they are where we can find them, that they work and that we know how to use them. Dead batteries in the hand-held radios and where in the hell is the portable shower?

 Snow North of Here

Below freezing this morning, mid-week. The cold goes through me quicker and easier as I get older. Aches and pains seem to come on quicker. I do not like getting old but it happened so fast.

Most likely gonna be a new world after elections and going into Thanksgiving. Think of getting your turkey and fixins' early, especially if you are like me and enjoy the whole turkey dinner, next-day sandwiches on fresh bread, leftovers smothered in gravy, home-made turkey soup and the Tryptophan nap.

Bill Murry from Ground Hog Day Movie

Elections are days away but God forbid, if after the elections, this all continues on as the only game on planet earth ad infinitum.


That was where the post was to end. A spraying shotgun approach to this week's Sunday post. Just getting something out is not a good mindset or approach to posting. Nor is constant pissing and moaning a motivator for folks to come visit this blog. I am searching for a consistent platform from which to write, but have yet to find it.

This weekend morning, I find some clarity to the funk. This is not even hitting the nail on the head but maybe I have come to, or am coming to, a better understanding of the new world we are living in and what it may look like in the not too distant future. 

am still  resisting but if this new world is the case, then it's best for me to let go of most everything I worry about and wish were not so. Maybe better understood that I should quit hanging on to, wanting the old ways or "wish pushing" the greatness of America in hopes of more awakenings. It is better I work and learn this new global world

The following two videos got my attention. A matter of fact slap-in-the-face on how we treat each other and how we hate. To think we can have any kind of conversation is blowing smoke where the sun don't shine. Hard to have a conversation with a boot on your neck while everyone watching just watches. History repeats itself, my friends. That is why we study it.


This is the homeless woman taking a stand and protecting Donald's Star
Also here 1--here 2--here3.

The crowd watches bullies take down an elderly woman and continue to belittle and poke at her, laying on the ground and as she is unable to protect herself.  This is us. We all own this

To the few of you around the world who come to visit this blog from time to time, this is a glimpse of America today and we are not proud of it. And know from the hearts of the American people, this is not who we are. This is who 1% are

The old woman represents the homeless, the down-trodden, the dirt people, the deplorables and the irredeemable. This is a teaching moment that we are on our own and no one is going to stand and protect us, even if we ask.

No women's rights organizations are coming to help this woman. It appears that  THIS black woman's life does not matter. This bullying is ok yet flies in the face of the politically correct tide against bullying. Day or night, black or white, right or wrong. Either it is or it is not!!

The man and crowd ask the old woman on the ground where Donald is? Telling her that Donald is not here to help her. Others follow in the chant. I do not believe this story is over

Is this is what is ahead of us? Watch the video. 

If the future is Urban, and human interactions will look like this, than that little parcel of land to grow vegetables and chickens on, located as far away from Urban growth, might be worthy of serious considerations and actions, sooner rather than laterThousands and thousands have already fled the big cities for safety and quieter controlled life styles.

Heads up, knees bent, PDA off, think, work and act for the long haul.    




Sunday, October 23, 2016


 A little bit of fall foliage repeating itself

Living in four distinct seasons brings four sets of seasonal signs. They come and go.  I partake in their annual story and this chapter is again coming to an end. Now to get ready for the next big change.

But four seasons do not bring any drastic life change here. A bad winter storm can slow us down for a few weeks, a month, make headline news and but we all move on. Living here in middle New England, we know the seasons and adapt to the changes.

Fall is my favorite time of the year. I love brisk days, no bugs and the outside chores of closing up spring and summer. All the little jobs outside beckon and seem over whelming. But a little here and a little there and most everything gets done.

Yesterday morning, I found the box of winter gloves and hats on top of the snow blower. I know that at the end of winter, I am tired of all of the cold/snow and will put these items where I will come across them in preparation for next winter season. I laid out the pile of mixed hats and gloves, re-arranged and took sets to the truck, tractor and bedroom dresser. Her sewed and repaired one of my favorite set of Carhart gloves. Her did the same and we are prepared for those first blasts of wind and cold air that want to go through us as we travel. Gloves and stocking caps; check.

The last green pepper was pulled last week as the plant gave its final effort and push to produce. The comings and goings of life well represented in garden efforts were put to final rest in our compost pile, along with the remains of other seasonal vegetables. "Green Pepper" was cleaned and roasted over the grill with a little olive oil and garlic salt.

Barn cat is now 68 years old. That she has survived this long, on her own terms living outside, is simply a miracle. A testament to her cat senses, OPSEC and stubborn attitudes. Not many stories of cats living very long outside in this part of the world. Too many natural patient predators.

She still prefers to stay outside when nights are warm. She is the first in the garage though when evenings are forecasted to be cool and cold. She is not above enjoying a full meal, cup of cream and climbing into her cat bed for a good night's sleep. But she too has to do the long stretching now in the morning to get things moving. 

I am surprised that she is still able to catch and kill the little animals she does. Apparently, the small chipmunk is a complete meal deal. Only the tail is left with some other unmentionables. And she always lays those remains in the middle of the small garage rug for us to see. She is still a killer at 68.

The job falls to me to remove the remains and I "set” them back to the earth with a small apology for the cat. Final rights for little chipmunk are always in order.

Our resident black bear sauntered across the front of the Dodge truck yesterday morning. Crossing from one side of the driveway to the other. No worries, no bother and ignoring my chores at the bottom of the driveway. Black Bear is still small, but healthy and continues to come and go here as part of his/her territory. Beautiful animal. Hibernation has got to be getting closer.

By the way, best not interrupt bears having sex.


I want to shed this shroud of uneasiness covering me this week.  I want to shake it off like the dog shakes off after swimming water. Is it self-inflicted? I ask myself this constantly. Could be. I want to write about this, but am at a loss for new paths or insights and in fear of just regurgitating media garbage.  Stuck in primordial goo this morning. Probably best to get outside with chores.

And I did. I took time to accomplish more post-season clean up and forced myself to sit down and look at fall foliage. This is the time of year people vacation in our neck of the woods. I often take all of the natural beauty for granted. 

But I force mandated time through out the day to pick up head and look at the forests. Lo and behold, it is absolutely wonderful what Mother Nature has been doing again as she moves us to winter. Maybe just a little past peak color now, but the late morning sun compliments her work. Time spent in observation helped calm down the mechanism.

Best to jump in now.


Quit often, other bloggers and thinkers clear the goo for me in their writings. I use to feel that I was the crazy one worrying too much. Seemingly overnight, I am merely a grain of sand in the flow of human wash about our tomorrows. 

The trajectories of history's bits and pieces seem commonly governed by war, the Great Attractor, converging again and again as if no velocity is escape velocity. It's said peace is the time between wars when nations rearm and rewrite their battle plans. True that. Just now there's a "last warning" feel to it all, as if the ref just came on the field and said time's up, it's meat-grinder time................What it comes down to is this: with all sides escalating, look to your resources and make good on deficiencies. Should a military event trigger mobilization, actual shortages combined with DC's plans for "emergency redistribution" will make life difficult even for the prepared. Should there be military strikes on the US itself, look for draconian martial law reminiscent of Leningrad seventy-five years ago. History may not repeat itself but—oh wait, yes it does.

This headline below, although market/investment oriented,  paints a hell of a portrait of panic.

There will be Panic: "It's Going To Be Like The Contents of Hoover Dam Trying To Get Through A Garden Hose"


I picked up the tractor this past weekend from mechanic. A hundred percent gone through, repaired and winter weather ready.  Had I taken the tractor for the go through and little repairs to a dealership or large town garage, the repairs would not have been addressed as mechanic did. 

Mechanic and helper are small town folks and old school. Friends now after all the years as our mechanic. Cloud People (gonna see this from time to time here folks) will not get this. But the old school approach to doing a job, adding a little personal interest along with experienced skill sets meshed well in the engines of this great country. Old School was an integral part of this land. 

Front drive shaft repaired. Step repaired and overbuilt. I have always overbuilt things; always. If a 2 x 4 will hold and do the job, then I install a 4 x 4. I said to the wife, mechanic runs a lot of heavy equipment when not at the shop. He built this because he did not want the job coming back to him. 

I went into mechanic's office and personally thanked him for the great job of over repairing the tractor step. "I did not want the job coming back to me." Yep, old school and right out of my overbuildit playbook. 

Mechanic and crew will get a warm homemade apple pie early Thanksgiving week. Most likely a dozen extra homemade Christmas cookies mid-December.

Saying thank you is one of life's greatest lessons and pleasures. And that is a real heartfelt thank you. Not just off the cuff mention. But a real extension of the hand and a firm grasp handshake and thank you, I appreciate that. You will see peoples eyes light up when you say it from the heart. Old school thank yous can come in the way of a hand written note or letter too. Not e-mailed, texted or electronic. Hand written and mailed. Last time you received one? See, old school!!


Her, sister of brother-in-law, is making cookies this morning. He loves Hermits and Russian Tea Cakes. Hermits will mail out just fine for his up-coming birthday. They are a hearty cookie and weather well. Dunkable

The upside this morning is my job of tasting these to make sure they pass quality control. Be damned if we are going to send cookies to brother-in-law if not up to highest standards. I am here for them

Like the dog, I waited and waited at the kitchen table. Hermans take time to make, ingredients and all. A finger was waved in the air when the first two dozen arrived from the oven and laid out in military order. They needed to cool.  Whhhhat? 

There is no way I can steal one when her back is turned, as it would appear as obvious as a fallen soldier. (I can get away with this when meatballs fall on the cooling rack near me) Numbered or bar-coded, each cookie is a member of a larger organization and accounted for. My allotment of 4 arrived with a cold glass milk. Apparently that is all til tomorrow mornings cup of coffee. And that is fine as they are very rich. BUT, that would not preclude me from eating a dozen. 

Final word!! Safe to eat.   


I see bundles of wood for sale at the local store all the time. Five pieces of wood, wrapped in plastic and finished off with a handle. The cost is $5 or a dollar a piece. (Figured that out myself using old school math skills!) I find myself staring at the wood for sale pile while trying to understand any value or use for the product. And then I see it all sell over a period of a couple of weeks and am a loss for words. I think of my wood piles at home and conclude that it must all be worth millions of dollars. I do not have an answer or understanding. Well, maybe for folks coming for the weekend to have outdoor camp fires; but still? 

I do go down the value-for-value road. Two gallons of water equal one piece of wood. Two swiss steaks, purchased for dinner tomorrow night, for four pieces of wood. Two pounds of butter equals one bag of wood. Two sausage egg hot sandwiches in the deli or four pieces of wood. Free cup of coffee, two doughnuts for one and a half pieces of wood. And I can go on and on. 

All of this runs through my head and I am troubled that I do not get it. Even if the wood is used for camping, a dollar a piece is head-shaking wrong.


Apology from the get go here. I know that a few of you are rolling your eyes before I even start. Bear with me. 

Must have been a zillion sightings, cave drawings and reports since the beginning of time. All with one thing in common, them out there. The space station shuts off the live feed when a blur gets to close or tries to dock. Whew. 

But only one of those zillion reports over time has to be true. Only one and folks, they are out there.

"Because it's better if we find the aliens before they find us."

Investing 100 million dollars to find them first. This ranks right up there with wood selling for a dollar a piece. Get a grip boys and girls, the dirt people on the big blue planet have been entered into the galactic log books eons ago. 

Even if we found them first, we would "screw the pooch" on the handling of the information.  We would find them and spend another 100 million dollars denying their existence. 

"Screwing the pooch" is an aviators term for serious pilot error.

If you do not want to have anything to do with all of this, at least take an hour and a half with the movie PAUL.  It is funny and a good escape.


The week has passed and peak foliage has been a wonderful treat, traveling the highway-byways of middle New England. Frontal systems, wind, rain and the forests are shedding leaves over night. Groundcover for a day or two is fall foliage frosting. Leaf blowers and rakes will be out in force this coming week. 

Snow up north this weekend and colder weather on the horizon. I figure a week left to get the last few big chores done here.

Sunday morning day break and the wind has all but wiped fall foliage from the country side.  Cold outside and the first look and feel of winter is now official. 

Quick chicken noodle soup on the back burner for lunch today. Warm fresh rolls with butter will be dunked. I really really want to start the first fire this morning. But self imposed rules are rules; first fire has to wait till November 1st.