.
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Ah well, it was mostly a nice quiet night. Other than an incendiary addendum, but that wasn't a bother to me. Just the facts, ma'am. Actually, I'm still chuckling, sort of. I really should have popped some popcorn though. Maybe another night. I have been looking over tools, actual hand tools like axes, mauls, and such, for firewood lumbering. That is some dang hard work. I've done it. Three to five cords a summer. I was never allowed to fell trees or touch the chainsaw (being a foster kid). I did, however, "get" to remove branches, haul the wood (usually on a fairly steep slope and up to a quarter to a half mile, sometimes up and sometimes down that slope), and chop the wood for the stove or fireplace (little of that as it was something my foster father could do, he had a heart condition (I might have too, actually, even then)). Still, I have some idea of what is involved.
I can't quite wrap my bean around felling a tree with an axe, limbing it, cutting it into lengths for hauling long distance, hauling it some long distance, then cutting it into suitable lengths for a stove and fireplace, and then splitting it down for whichever purpose. Without a chainsaw. Beyond the maul and wedges, I would probably need a smaller maul, a felling axe, another axe (for limbing), several tools for manipulating the felled tree or parts of it, and at least one crosscut saw. At least, that would be mare minimum. I might really want chains, a tow hook and harness, and who knows what else. I suppose I could start with a chainsaw. Yes, this is fantasy a bit, but I would like to have to preparation here, tool-wise.
No, I have decided not to buy these tools. I still have the oven to work on. And the coop roof to install. In that order goes my money priority. As far as projects go. I do have a rough hand drawn sketch of the oven, I just haven't gotten much farther. The world of the reals has been eluding me. Instead of buying those tools tomorrow, I may look at hand tools for creating the joinery needed for the solar oven. I would really love 18 volt battery power tools, but I think I will pass. In the end, that would be the cheaper way. But unless I have solar power, they would end up as expensive paperweights, leaving me without tools. However, I will look at what mauls and such are available. And, I will be putting large money on those tools, compared to big box stores. It is very much worth the extra money for truly good tools, when it comes to hand tools.
Almost time to start heading out. I want to look up what hand tools are recommended for the simple joinery required, and book mark several technique pages for doing so. Yes, like a rooster with his head cut off, but... only of the mind. I am staying on track if I do seem to lose focus. Now to... move forward instead of just sitting. Ugh!
Have a great day. Later.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Addendum
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The reason that "In the Mouth of Madness" strikes a cord with me... Take out the evil monsters and add in the vices of socialism and communism and you see the connection. If the protagonist is a 'secular man', he has no hope of fighting the changes or the vices or the new reality. You see the story of a secular man trying to deny what has become the new reality. You even see him try to find the one thing that could save him, using a black crayon. But without a well built and structured and true faith, it does him no good in the end. In the end, he simply does what it takes to become a part of the new reality. He does what the Godless must do in such situations.
The people, the liberals, around me remind me of the other actors. The woman, like my last, seeks to experiment in thought and loses herself. The character played by Charlton Heston, like so many others, is merely a pawn and is completely malleable. The only real good guy, who fights and loses, is Sutter Cane's agent. It almost seems to be truly about "liberalism". I honestly wonder if that wasn't the point. So many people wanting to believe in something that truly isn't real. And yet, by means of force and by breaking minds, they mean to make it true. Whether feminists (or feminist part deux if that was too much for your delicacy, a humor palate cleanser), socialists, communists (what information is still available online), islamists or here or here, multiculturalists, take your pick, or the others like greens (think wind power or electric vehicles, completely unsustainable, impossible, more expensive, less efficient (and less green as they term things) power sources, they all mean to force their way, and for the most part, they have succeeded. In spite of having all been proven wrong. I don't choose reality, I simply know it. I also know what is false and have the faith to reject it.
As a horror, the movie is okay. As a view of what has, is, and may happen? It is spot on. Now, where is my popcorn?
.
The reason that "In the Mouth of Madness" strikes a cord with me... Take out the evil monsters and add in the vices of socialism and communism and you see the connection. If the protagonist is a 'secular man', he has no hope of fighting the changes or the vices or the new reality. You see the story of a secular man trying to deny what has become the new reality. You even see him try to find the one thing that could save him, using a black crayon. But without a well built and structured and true faith, it does him no good in the end. In the end, he simply does what it takes to become a part of the new reality. He does what the Godless must do in such situations.
The people, the liberals, around me remind me of the other actors. The woman, like my last, seeks to experiment in thought and loses herself. The character played by Charlton Heston, like so many others, is merely a pawn and is completely malleable. The only real good guy, who fights and loses, is Sutter Cane's agent. It almost seems to be truly about "liberalism". I honestly wonder if that wasn't the point. So many people wanting to believe in something that truly isn't real. And yet, by means of force and by breaking minds, they mean to make it true. Whether feminists (or feminist part deux if that was too much for your delicacy, a humor palate cleanser), socialists, communists (what information is still available online), islamists or here or here, multiculturalists, take your pick, or the others like greens (think wind power or electric vehicles, completely unsustainable, impossible, more expensive, less efficient (and less green as they term things) power sources, they all mean to force their way, and for the most part, they have succeeded. In spite of having all been proven wrong. I don't choose reality, I simply know it. I also know what is false and have the faith to reject it.
As a horror, the movie is okay. As a view of what has, is, and may happen? It is spot on. Now, where is my popcorn?
Sunday, August 7, 2011
A visit with my friend.
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.
It took me calling several times to finally get through to the place he stays. I don't know that they are truly short staffed, though they might be. Or they simply don't have a dedicated phone staff. And, as big as the place is, I can see where they would be busy in any case. Dedicated phone staff isn't always possible. No problem, just frustrating. He is at a center to help him learn to use the prosthetic. His sister now has legal authority over decisions, in case he becomes incapacitated. Though he still is basically in charge. There are many good things about the arrangement.
Anyway, what he wanted was food and more food. So after finally actually contacting him, I headed into to town and stopped to do a bit of grocery shopping. Just snack foods as he doesn't have a refrigerator. Cheese and crackers, two different kinds, peanut butter and crackers, cookies, donuts, and some other stuff. A pretty pennies worth, which should keep him in eats for a good week, as snack supplements to what they feed him anyway. I also gave him $30, as he only had $8 on him. I've been broke in a hospital before. It sucks. He doesn't have a lot of need, but who knows. Maybe they will go out some day and he will have a chance to buy a sundae, soda, or other gedunk. If nothing else, he knows he has a little bit of cash.
We chatted up a storm. I stayed, oh, maybe four hours, five? I think he needed a visitor. For a bit he had no contact with any of us. They took him in the middle of last month. He didn't have anyone's phone numbers! I suppose he couldn't remember where they were. He had half memorized them, but then the surgery and being a hospital, and trying to figure everything else out, he became befuddled. Oh, it's not an age thing, I have been there. Especially when you are really sick or in pain, the brain just can't pull it up, you become doubtful, make mistakes, then just give up. He finally just sent a letter to Newton with just my name and the city, and hoped they would know what to do with it. It worked.
For my part, I had been calling and visiting. For obvious reasons now, to no avail. I really was concerned but I had no way of... finding him, or learning his fate. I now have his sister's phone number and address. I sort of knew where she lived, but was always baffled about which street to take. There are many streets similar to it, yet when on the right street I know right how to get there. Now I have the data, which I will put both in my cell phone and in my address book. I feel bad that he was stuck and alone.
Well, it was a good talk. He really wants to get out and about. He would also like to have some of his guns available, for shooting. I suggested he speak with the facility people, and see if they would lend him a wheelchair for outside. Then speak with his sister about us visiting and getting a couple of his guns and ammunition, which I will keep for him (I am sure he can't have them where he is staying). And then let me know when would be the best time. Since he has twice daily (weekday) therapy, and other doings during the week, he thought weekends would be best. Still, I think we could at least take an afternoon drive and walk through parks but will leave that up to him. I suggested, with a wheelchair, he will finally be able to go my pace! I suggested he get a wheelchair with a windshield or get used to a road-rage hair-do. He just grinned.
They cut off up to the middle of his shin. His foot was dead, literally. There was nothing there. He still has pain, though not phantom pain so much. Learning to wear the prosthetic is something of a trick, more an endurance thing. I suggested he now knows what a horse goes through while it is being saddle trained, and I think he liked the analogy if not the fact. Still, I think he will be better for it. That foot was nothing but trouble and only a half a foot to start with. He will now have a whole foot, one that hopefully won't hurt to use.
He is looking quite thin. I hope the goodies help him regain some strength and weight. At 6', a man shouldn't weigh 130! I'll have to visit a few times a week, and bring real food and check on his snacks. I would like to make it so that I don't visit on days his other friends and family visit so as not to wear him out or leave him with more days without a visitor.
It was good to get out, myself. I didn't get everything on my list completed, but I have another shot at it tomorrow. Since I couldn't find my hatchet, and it isn't much of a hatchet in any case, I am going to look for a solid hatchet tomorrow. I might also pick up a felling axe, look over splitting wedges and a sludge hammer or better a maul. Picking up little things along the way is all I can do so it is what I do. If I can get what I consider a solid group for $150 to $200, I might just get it all. Two splitting wedges, actually, if I can. If I don't see anything local that looks good, I might just order this grouping, the splitting maul and a pair of wedges.
My appointment is early tomorrow, so I need to start figuring out how to get some sleep. I will need a bit of time to come down though. I have the windows open and fans going gangbuster to cool things off, which should help a ton. Anyway, have a great night.
.
It took me calling several times to finally get through to the place he stays. I don't know that they are truly short staffed, though they might be. Or they simply don't have a dedicated phone staff. And, as big as the place is, I can see where they would be busy in any case. Dedicated phone staff isn't always possible. No problem, just frustrating. He is at a center to help him learn to use the prosthetic. His sister now has legal authority over decisions, in case he becomes incapacitated. Though he still is basically in charge. There are many good things about the arrangement.
Anyway, what he wanted was food and more food. So after finally actually contacting him, I headed into to town and stopped to do a bit of grocery shopping. Just snack foods as he doesn't have a refrigerator. Cheese and crackers, two different kinds, peanut butter and crackers, cookies, donuts, and some other stuff. A pretty pennies worth, which should keep him in eats for a good week, as snack supplements to what they feed him anyway. I also gave him $30, as he only had $8 on him. I've been broke in a hospital before. It sucks. He doesn't have a lot of need, but who knows. Maybe they will go out some day and he will have a chance to buy a sundae, soda, or other gedunk. If nothing else, he knows he has a little bit of cash.
We chatted up a storm. I stayed, oh, maybe four hours, five? I think he needed a visitor. For a bit he had no contact with any of us. They took him in the middle of last month. He didn't have anyone's phone numbers! I suppose he couldn't remember where they were. He had half memorized them, but then the surgery and being a hospital, and trying to figure everything else out, he became befuddled. Oh, it's not an age thing, I have been there. Especially when you are really sick or in pain, the brain just can't pull it up, you become doubtful, make mistakes, then just give up. He finally just sent a letter to Newton with just my name and the city, and hoped they would know what to do with it. It worked.
For my part, I had been calling and visiting. For obvious reasons now, to no avail. I really was concerned but I had no way of... finding him, or learning his fate. I now have his sister's phone number and address. I sort of knew where she lived, but was always baffled about which street to take. There are many streets similar to it, yet when on the right street I know right how to get there. Now I have the data, which I will put both in my cell phone and in my address book. I feel bad that he was stuck and alone.
Well, it was a good talk. He really wants to get out and about. He would also like to have some of his guns available, for shooting. I suggested he speak with the facility people, and see if they would lend him a wheelchair for outside. Then speak with his sister about us visiting and getting a couple of his guns and ammunition, which I will keep for him (I am sure he can't have them where he is staying). And then let me know when would be the best time. Since he has twice daily (weekday) therapy, and other doings during the week, he thought weekends would be best. Still, I think we could at least take an afternoon drive and walk through parks but will leave that up to him. I suggested, with a wheelchair, he will finally be able to go my pace! I suggested he get a wheelchair with a windshield or get used to a road-rage hair-do. He just grinned.
They cut off up to the middle of his shin. His foot was dead, literally. There was nothing there. He still has pain, though not phantom pain so much. Learning to wear the prosthetic is something of a trick, more an endurance thing. I suggested he now knows what a horse goes through while it is being saddle trained, and I think he liked the analogy if not the fact. Still, I think he will be better for it. That foot was nothing but trouble and only a half a foot to start with. He will now have a whole foot, one that hopefully won't hurt to use.
He is looking quite thin. I hope the goodies help him regain some strength and weight. At 6', a man shouldn't weigh 130! I'll have to visit a few times a week, and bring real food and check on his snacks. I would like to make it so that I don't visit on days his other friends and family visit so as not to wear him out or leave him with more days without a visitor.
It was good to get out, myself. I didn't get everything on my list completed, but I have another shot at it tomorrow. Since I couldn't find my hatchet, and it isn't much of a hatchet in any case, I am going to look for a solid hatchet tomorrow. I might also pick up a felling axe, look over splitting wedges and a sludge hammer or better a maul. Picking up little things along the way is all I can do so it is what I do. If I can get what I consider a solid group for $150 to $200, I might just get it all. Two splitting wedges, actually, if I can. If I don't see anything local that looks good, I might just order this grouping, the splitting maul and a pair of wedges.
My appointment is early tomorrow, so I need to start figuring out how to get some sleep. I will need a bit of time to come down though. I have the windows open and fans going gangbuster to cool things off, which should help a ton. Anyway, have a great night.
The economy, education, culture...
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I keep talking about how I feel about most of what is going on around me. I have alluded to the last scene in this movie. Well, finally, here it is. How I feel about the title can be summed up, starting at about 2:24. Don't watch this ending however, if you want to watch the whole movie (linked below... hey, a free horror flick). And I usually mention popcorn, too.
If you want to watch the whole thing, this link will take you to the start. Yes, you can watch the whole thing, but in bits (it automatically continues to play, and there are no commercials). If you want to watch a free horror.
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I keep talking about how I feel about most of what is going on around me. I have alluded to the last scene in this movie. Well, finally, here it is. How I feel about the title can be summed up, starting at about 2:24. Don't watch this ending however, if you want to watch the whole movie (linked below... hey, a free horror flick). And I usually mention popcorn, too.
If you want to watch the whole thing, this link will take you to the start. Yes, you can watch the whole thing, but in bits (it automatically continues to play, and there are no commercials). If you want to watch a free horror.
Finally unpacked.
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.
I keep emails saved, for purchases, until I have inspected and accepted the item(s). So the rocket stove and water pasteurizer related emails (and a ton of them) were clogging up my email box. They have been here for days now, but just... sat there, in their boxes, unopened. I finally got to it and opened them up today. They sure look bigger on the internet. This isn't an issue, at all, of course. The size is appropriate and they will function just fine and as advertised. Smaller is actually probably better. While slightly heavier then I thought, as well. I guess I didn't realize there was as much brick in there as there is. Not so heavy I, or even a woman or even a child, could not manage, mind you. Appearances can be deceiving is all. Why, my foot is as tall as the stove, and greater than the diameter (that is sort of my measure as to if something is big, medium, or small, well, added with weight. They are handsome little devices. I will keep one email so as to be sure to have the order number and such. If I get to it and try them before long, practice with them a bit, and perhaps actually cook something (but what?), I will leave a comment on their page.
Of course, opening the package and setting the stove up has me thinking I should get my hatchet and go deal with those limbs. Some of them are probably too thin, and could just disappear to dust or something (so I hear). But they would be excellent fodder if they are still useful, before they rot. Fodder to begin experimenting. Use up the stuff that would simply crumble, before it crumbles. The locals seem to have some notion, or at least lore, regarding the survival arena. Better yet, it is based on the local climate and such. Yes, I trust it. Nothing is absolute, but there are better and worse places to make your exceptions and I do trust them locally.
Yes, getting to some branches. Chopping and sorting. I will look at the website, but I think twigs and branches of about a foot long is what is needed (my foot makes a perfect measure, give or take as my feet are a bit longer and shoes make it more so). For now, lighting the fire will simply be done with matches. In time this will be an excellent way to experiment with alternative methods of lighting a fire, of which I have several, and there are other mechanical ones (pre-industrial methods) I would like to try. I am not sure what type of pot or pan will work on this cooker? Will stainless char? Should I only use cast iron? I am not sure what kind of heat to expect (what ranges of heat). Will this be hot enough to sear meat? How long to boil water? There are two doors. For wood burning, one has to be open. The other seems to be the temperature control via air flow and also probably has to be open to some degree. Want it hot? Open it up all the way. At least I am reasonably seasoned as a cook so I should be able to tell what is what with practice. I'll look around to see what others recommend about using this cooker.
Anyway, after a bit of branch work, assuming I can find my hatchet, I plan to call my friend. I am hoping he is able to have a visitor today. If so, I'll see if he needs or wants anything. It's good to be the gimp! Yeah, I'll tease him too. Just because he lost the rest of that foot doesn't mean I'm going to go all teary and crap. Plus, I want to see the stump! We'll probably chuckle about him becoming ol' pegleg. :p A visitor might help him get up and out a bit quicker. I am hoping with that troublesome foot gone, and as he learns to use the prosthetic, he will be more mobile. That foot was always sore, it was always swollen, and it wasn't complete on top of that. I had worried he had simply blown me off, for some unknown reason (though I can be an arse, duh).
Well, let me get cracking. Actually, having taken a shower yesterday, and with short hair and a baseball cap, I think I'll skip a shower until after doing the lumber jacking. :) A bit to eat, first, would be good. I don't have much on hand. Hmm, beer and Pringles? Yeah. Bleh. Later.
.
I keep emails saved, for purchases, until I have inspected and accepted the item(s). So the rocket stove and water pasteurizer related emails (and a ton of them) were clogging up my email box. They have been here for days now, but just... sat there, in their boxes, unopened. I finally got to it and opened them up today. They sure look bigger on the internet. This isn't an issue, at all, of course. The size is appropriate and they will function just fine and as advertised. Smaller is actually probably better. While slightly heavier then I thought, as well. I guess I didn't realize there was as much brick in there as there is. Not so heavy I, or even a woman or even a child, could not manage, mind you. Appearances can be deceiving is all. Why, my foot is as tall as the stove, and greater than the diameter (that is sort of my measure as to if something is big, medium, or small, well, added with weight. They are handsome little devices. I will keep one email so as to be sure to have the order number and such. If I get to it and try them before long, practice with them a bit, and perhaps actually cook something (but what?), I will leave a comment on their page.
Of course, opening the package and setting the stove up has me thinking I should get my hatchet and go deal with those limbs. Some of them are probably too thin, and could just disappear to dust or something (so I hear). But they would be excellent fodder if they are still useful, before they rot. Fodder to begin experimenting. Use up the stuff that would simply crumble, before it crumbles. The locals seem to have some notion, or at least lore, regarding the survival arena. Better yet, it is based on the local climate and such. Yes, I trust it. Nothing is absolute, but there are better and worse places to make your exceptions and I do trust them locally.
Yes, getting to some branches. Chopping and sorting. I will look at the website, but I think twigs and branches of about a foot long is what is needed (my foot makes a perfect measure, give or take as my feet are a bit longer and shoes make it more so). For now, lighting the fire will simply be done with matches. In time this will be an excellent way to experiment with alternative methods of lighting a fire, of which I have several, and there are other mechanical ones (pre-industrial methods) I would like to try. I am not sure what type of pot or pan will work on this cooker? Will stainless char? Should I only use cast iron? I am not sure what kind of heat to expect (what ranges of heat). Will this be hot enough to sear meat? How long to boil water? There are two doors. For wood burning, one has to be open. The other seems to be the temperature control via air flow and also probably has to be open to some degree. Want it hot? Open it up all the way. At least I am reasonably seasoned as a cook so I should be able to tell what is what with practice. I'll look around to see what others recommend about using this cooker.
Anyway, after a bit of branch work, assuming I can find my hatchet, I plan to call my friend. I am hoping he is able to have a visitor today. If so, I'll see if he needs or wants anything. It's good to be the gimp! Yeah, I'll tease him too. Just because he lost the rest of that foot doesn't mean I'm going to go all teary and crap. Plus, I want to see the stump! We'll probably chuckle about him becoming ol' pegleg. :p A visitor might help him get up and out a bit quicker. I am hoping with that troublesome foot gone, and as he learns to use the prosthetic, he will be more mobile. That foot was always sore, it was always swollen, and it wasn't complete on top of that. I had worried he had simply blown me off, for some unknown reason (though I can be an arse, duh).
Well, let me get cracking. Actually, having taken a shower yesterday, and with short hair and a baseball cap, I think I'll skip a shower until after doing the lumber jacking. :) A bit to eat, first, would be good. I don't have much on hand. Hmm, beer and Pringles? Yeah. Bleh. Later.
Pictures tell the truth.
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.
I look harsh in pictures. A gnarly grumpy looking ruffled older man, that is what I see. No way around it, I look rough. I guess I am dieing, and I am well into "middle aged", so it goes with the territory. And while I have never said I believed myself to be a handsome man, health issues and age don't help. It's sort of like finding an open wound and someone coming along with a sharp stick to probe it, tossing a little salt in as well to see what happens. Never photogenic, that isn't improving. Ah well. But yeah, cameras do not lie, and worse. Don't ever believe when they say the DMV pictures are always bad, or I should say worse than the truth. Just understand, you aren't looking for a mate who shares your taste (sort of like the "When you believe you may be accosted by a bear, don't go alone, and don't worry about running faster than the bear, just make sure you run faster than your partner:). Never mind.
I am feeling better. I simply can't get off my butt. Leaditis, a disease common to me, is still keeping me down. I have been looking for that window of opportunity, that chance to escape. I was hoping yesterday, getting out and about, might... trigger something. It did not. On the good side, it didn't cause a negative slide by exhausting me further. I did get out for a meal after the class though. Nothing fancy, a lunch at Chuck-O-Rama, they have a new one in Logan. Actually, I like the place, mostly. Being new it isn't as gritty as older buffet style restaurants. Then again... Still, I like going. It's less expensive than Arby's, has more variety, and I love their fried chicken as it is one thing I have never learned to actually cook correctly. The option to have whatever looks good is simply a plus. I never really overeat, either. Two plates, not truly stacked, and I am good. I never have room for desert. Often my second plate is salads, though not yesterday. Nope, that didn't get me going but it was something new, a little more than planned, and a pleasantry to have a full course meal, with mostly meat, a bit of vegetables, and no dishes.
awake: 4:00
.
I look harsh in pictures. A gnarly grumpy looking ruffled older man, that is what I see. No way around it, I look rough. I guess I am dieing, and I am well into "middle aged", so it goes with the territory. And while I have never said I believed myself to be a handsome man, health issues and age don't help. It's sort of like finding an open wound and someone coming along with a sharp stick to probe it, tossing a little salt in as well to see what happens. Never photogenic, that isn't improving. Ah well. But yeah, cameras do not lie, and worse. Don't ever believe when they say the DMV pictures are always bad, or I should say worse than the truth. Just understand, you aren't looking for a mate who shares your taste (sort of like the "When you believe you may be accosted by a bear, don't go alone, and don't worry about running faster than the bear, just make sure you run faster than your partner:). Never mind.
I am feeling better. I simply can't get off my butt. Leaditis, a disease common to me, is still keeping me down. I have been looking for that window of opportunity, that chance to escape. I was hoping yesterday, getting out and about, might... trigger something. It did not. On the good side, it didn't cause a negative slide by exhausting me further. I did get out for a meal after the class though. Nothing fancy, a lunch at Chuck-O-Rama, they have a new one in Logan. Actually, I like the place, mostly. Being new it isn't as gritty as older buffet style restaurants. Then again... Still, I like going. It's less expensive than Arby's, has more variety, and I love their fried chicken as it is one thing I have never learned to actually cook correctly. The option to have whatever looks good is simply a plus. I never really overeat, either. Two plates, not truly stacked, and I am good. I never have room for desert. Often my second plate is salads, though not yesterday. Nope, that didn't get me going but it was something new, a little more than planned, and a pleasantry to have a full course meal, with mostly meat, a bit of vegetables, and no dishes.
awake: 4:00
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Two actual letters!
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Odd. I haven't received a real letter in nearly a year and I receive two of them on the same day. I don't know about you, but I love real letters. Hand written, mind you. One was on a card, the other on simple paper. Both from people I care about, deeply, if quite differently. I may not have many friends. And my friendships may be contentious, as my lady friend termed it. But I do have good friends.
The first, from my lady friend, suggested she feels really bad about me being so ill. She even has considered moving out. She gave three reasons why she shouldn't. No, no, I won't laugh. I am sure she is almost serious, as far as serious goes. I will contact her soon, probably by phone. What she doesn't understand is... I was ill from this pretty much the whole time she knew me and long before then. Sure, the edema was a little bit of a radical departure. But it was just a few months. Anyway, it is always good to hear from her. And I do like that she has that sentiment. But more, it is good to know she is doing well. Hey, I'm a bit cheesy sometimes, but I would rather know people are doing good than most anything else. The rest just comes down to the notion that it's the thought the counts. Of course, there is more. She wrote more than what I have said but not in essence. And yet, you have to know her, and I do. For it, she "hates me". And I love it. *evil grins*
The other was from my local friend. I had tried to contact him but heard nothing. I simply couldn't get through and I couldn't seem to find him at home. I didn't know if he was avoiding me or... what. It seems he has had the rest of his foot removed. How far up his leg they went I don't know. From the sounds of it, it was quite necessary. On top of that, he has been moved. He is semi-hospitalized (or actually in a nursing facility). He must remain there until he can learn to use the prosthetic. He also seems to have a new phone number. He gave me both the new number and new address. I tried to call this evening but no one answered. I'll keep calling and see if he needs anything when I visit. I am sure visiting hours, and maybe phone times, might be limited. Hmm, I wonder what I could bring? Sausage, the good kind, and some edam cheese? Yep. And anything else he might suggest he needs.
Well, to bed early tonight, I do believe. Another hour of dinking and toodling and I'll be down for the count. Hmm, woke at 3:00, down by 21:00, 18 hours uptime. Yeah, that's good.
awake: 3:00, asleep: 22:45
(yesterday) awake: 3:00, asleep: 15:00
(All times are from when I laid down, not necessarily when I actually fell asleep but do assume significant, single period, sleep. However, in the last... many months and mostly, sleep happens rather quickly, like what you would expect when someone says they went to bed.)
.
Odd. I haven't received a real letter in nearly a year and I receive two of them on the same day. I don't know about you, but I love real letters. Hand written, mind you. One was on a card, the other on simple paper. Both from people I care about, deeply, if quite differently. I may not have many friends. And my friendships may be contentious, as my lady friend termed it. But I do have good friends.
The first, from my lady friend, suggested she feels really bad about me being so ill. She even has considered moving out. She gave three reasons why she shouldn't. No, no, I won't laugh. I am sure she is almost serious, as far as serious goes. I will contact her soon, probably by phone. What she doesn't understand is... I was ill from this pretty much the whole time she knew me and long before then. Sure, the edema was a little bit of a radical departure. But it was just a few months. Anyway, it is always good to hear from her. And I do like that she has that sentiment. But more, it is good to know she is doing well. Hey, I'm a bit cheesy sometimes, but I would rather know people are doing good than most anything else. The rest just comes down to the notion that it's the thought the counts. Of course, there is more. She wrote more than what I have said but not in essence. And yet, you have to know her, and I do. For it, she "hates me". And I love it. *evil grins*
The other was from my local friend. I had tried to contact him but heard nothing. I simply couldn't get through and I couldn't seem to find him at home. I didn't know if he was avoiding me or... what. It seems he has had the rest of his foot removed. How far up his leg they went I don't know. From the sounds of it, it was quite necessary. On top of that, he has been moved. He is semi-hospitalized (or actually in a nursing facility). He must remain there until he can learn to use the prosthetic. He also seems to have a new phone number. He gave me both the new number and new address. I tried to call this evening but no one answered. I'll keep calling and see if he needs anything when I visit. I am sure visiting hours, and maybe phone times, might be limited. Hmm, I wonder what I could bring? Sausage, the good kind, and some edam cheese? Yep. And anything else he might suggest he needs.
Well, to bed early tonight, I do believe. Another hour of dinking and toodling and I'll be down for the count. Hmm, woke at 3:00, down by 21:00, 18 hours uptime. Yeah, that's good.
awake: 3:00, asleep: 22:45
(yesterday) awake: 3:00, asleep: 15:00
(All times are from when I laid down, not necessarily when I actually fell asleep but do assume significant, single period, sleep. However, in the last... many months and mostly, sleep happens rather quickly, like what you would expect when someone says they went to bed.)
The two pistols on my list.
.
.
I know, too early to be too hopeful. But one can't help dreaming. The two pistols on my list I could probably get sooner rather than later are topping my list, currently. One for those times when almost no pistol seems possible (think shorts and t-shirt, or swim trunks). The other for more general small carry. I do like revolvers, if they aren't as fun to shoot (as a 14 round .45). They work, every time. I think I am stuck on that S&W Chief Special for the .357 mag. Weight isn't an issue for me, in conceal carry, at least not like it is with most people. Further, the extra weight of a steel gun reduces recoil. I am able to shoot my friend's .357 magnum with full .357 (+P, as he likes to load them hot!) with a single hand (and bounce a can at 35 plus feet). His is even a pug, sub 2" barrel. The Chief has a 3" barrel (the one that I want, there are two types of Chiefs, at least). The other pistol comes highly recommended by a source I trust (though hand size might or might not be an issue). I am not sure I can use it. I will have to see if someone around has one for range rent. It's called a Black Widow, a 22 mag (and I can get a .22 lr cylinder for it as well, I do believe).
Yeah, I still want that shotgun, the KSG. I have heard Kel-Tec is synonymous with poor delivery. They offer possibly cutting edge weapons and either they are fail or they are impossible to get. Then instead of printing them per demand, they just move on to... something else cool and interesting. I can hope they will be better poised to pounce on opportunity, with the economy the way it is. Or I will simply have to wait for the patents to die for someone with an interest in making a buck to come along and copy, and produce in numbers. Plus, it won't be out until the end of the year, so I would have time to reconfigure my savings.
Why three carry pistols? First, I like having a backup. Second, there are different situations that call for different types of carry. Beyond all that? If allowed... How about because I can? If I get my permit I plan to carry at all times (when legal to do so). I see it as a civil duty, no less than voting. I see it as a right that should be exercised (or it will be lost). It is seriously doubtful I will ever have to use it. I do avoid bad parts of cities. I do my work in the day (when possible). I avoid trouble and can almost smell it. Even if someone broke into my home, I have doubts I would actually have to shoot, not here. Probably just someone's problem child and I really wouldn't send them a corpse because they have a stupid kid. I might train my gun on someone like that, then merely call the cops whatever else happened (assuming they froze or ran).
Jazzed by the class I guess. I could have gotten a conceal carry in Iowa, I had a permit to buy handguns for four years. There really shouldn't be an issue. Who knows though, Utah is different from Iowa. However this time I will get to the bottom of any problems, and if it is somehow the V.A., I will get people on that. From what I am seeing with my heart doctors, they realize it was a terrible mistake to have listed me as psychiatric. I think they darn well know my problem has simply been heart related. They know the symptomology. It fits. That my heart was simply not explored as a problem is a shame, and embarrassment, even though I was pretty young when it became an issue. Sure, it wasn't them, but it was their field. Anyway, I will get the permit if I can.
.
I know, too early to be too hopeful. But one can't help dreaming. The two pistols on my list I could probably get sooner rather than later are topping my list, currently. One for those times when almost no pistol seems possible (think shorts and t-shirt, or swim trunks). The other for more general small carry. I do like revolvers, if they aren't as fun to shoot (as a 14 round .45). They work, every time. I think I am stuck on that S&W Chief Special for the .357 mag. Weight isn't an issue for me, in conceal carry, at least not like it is with most people. Further, the extra weight of a steel gun reduces recoil. I am able to shoot my friend's .357 magnum with full .357 (+P, as he likes to load them hot!) with a single hand (and bounce a can at 35 plus feet). His is even a pug, sub 2" barrel. The Chief has a 3" barrel (the one that I want, there are two types of Chiefs, at least). The other pistol comes highly recommended by a source I trust (though hand size might or might not be an issue). I am not sure I can use it. I will have to see if someone around has one for range rent. It's called a Black Widow, a 22 mag (and I can get a .22 lr cylinder for it as well, I do believe).
Yeah, I still want that shotgun, the KSG. I have heard Kel-Tec is synonymous with poor delivery. They offer possibly cutting edge weapons and either they are fail or they are impossible to get. Then instead of printing them per demand, they just move on to... something else cool and interesting. I can hope they will be better poised to pounce on opportunity, with the economy the way it is. Or I will simply have to wait for the patents to die for someone with an interest in making a buck to come along and copy, and produce in numbers. Plus, it won't be out until the end of the year, so I would have time to reconfigure my savings.
Why three carry pistols? First, I like having a backup. Second, there are different situations that call for different types of carry. Beyond all that? If allowed... How about because I can? If I get my permit I plan to carry at all times (when legal to do so). I see it as a civil duty, no less than voting. I see it as a right that should be exercised (or it will be lost). It is seriously doubtful I will ever have to use it. I do avoid bad parts of cities. I do my work in the day (when possible). I avoid trouble and can almost smell it. Even if someone broke into my home, I have doubts I would actually have to shoot, not here. Probably just someone's problem child and I really wouldn't send them a corpse because they have a stupid kid. I might train my gun on someone like that, then merely call the cops whatever else happened (assuming they froze or ran).
Jazzed by the class I guess. I could have gotten a conceal carry in Iowa, I had a permit to buy handguns for four years. There really shouldn't be an issue. Who knows though, Utah is different from Iowa. However this time I will get to the bottom of any problems, and if it is somehow the V.A., I will get people on that. From what I am seeing with my heart doctors, they realize it was a terrible mistake to have listed me as psychiatric. I think they darn well know my problem has simply been heart related. They know the symptomology. It fits. That my heart was simply not explored as a problem is a shame, and embarrassment, even though I was pretty young when it became an issue. Sure, it wasn't them, but it was their field. Anyway, I will get the permit if I can.
I made it.
.
.
On time and actually a bit early. I left early enough to have had breakfast somewhere. And, probably could have had breakfast. However, wanting to look the place over before having to be there, and not sure about how long of a trip it would be, I went by the place first. There wasn't a place to stop and eat, that I saw. I did drive to the next town over. They didn't have a restaurant either. So, back to the shop and a short wait.
The class was mostly for newbies. Which was fine, I sort of expected that. However, there were bits of information that were very important. For one thing, and the most important thing, was what "empty" means regarding sidearms. For an auto, it means a full magazine, in place, just no bullet in the tube. Okay, now this is far different from what empty meant in Iowa. Empty meant no bullets within reasonable reach and no magazine near any bullets or the gun. Yeah. So, you can open carry with a live mag just no bullet chambered. And, yes, I can live with that. For revolvers it means two open chambers, one the hammer rests upon and the next one in the cycle. That was critical, to my way of thinking.
Now, remember, most of these people are civilians. They are non-combatants. They have never fired, nor even been trained to fire, in anything like a real full on combat situation. Further, even if they believe in gun ownership, many are still squeamish about guns, and more importantly about using them. So... I did feel out of place. And, no, I'm not gun happy or gun crazy. No, I wouldn't shoot first and ask questions later. Merely, I am as comfortable with guns as I am with water or driving (more than driving actually) or going to Church (in theory). I would not have a problem killing, either. I would prefer not to, for a number of reasons. But left with little choice and only a moment to choose, I would choose my or another life (of mine) over some stranger or aggressor. And I already know it wouldn't bug me if it went down rightly.
Now, on the other hand, I don't have a passel of kids and a wife to consider. I can be much more cavalier about having a full on loaded pistol anywhere in my house, unlocked and in the open. I don't have people around me who are terrified of guns. My mother, perhaps, but then again I don't toy with my guns around her (or, even when she isn't around). I don't have anything to worry about, including myself. I don't have weird thoughts of suicide or homicide. Such things don't plague me. I am very emotionally stable, and have become even more so through personal gun ownership. A new owner has to make a concentrated effort to figure it all out. The Navy figured it out for me, to a degree, with my allowance of course. And I have figured much out since. Still, it was good to see four women in the group. Though it sounded like none of them would regularly carry (the ones who spoke). Then again, they all seemed nervous about their children (who do like to crawl all over mommy during snuggle time) finding or discharging the gun. I suppose they would save carrying for trips, specific need, etc. Fair enough. And, it's sort of a non-feminine thing.
Anyway, I have the stuff to take in. I believe I have an appointment very soon. I won't, of course, need to take my gun. Couldn't as I can't have my pistol at the V.A. I totally disagree with that. Perhaps with a proper president, and since the psychiatric portion is in a separate building, we might be allowed to have our rights honoered "on federal grounds". Think about that. Just... think about that for a second? Really? We can't have permitted concealed weapons... ON FEDERAL GROUNDS? Really? How insane is that? Never mind.
It is merely by luck that I was able to be awake and there, on time. I seem to make medical appointments, but that edema really caught hold of my attention and the medicines have worked a bit (when I don't tinker or miss out). The rest of life is very difficult to manage. A hook in my nose would work, but then someone would be having to deal with blood rage at some point. A fish net would be of no good use to someone who pulled me in with a fish hook. I am grateful to have made it! Oh, the guy sells guns, sort of. He more or less hooks up those who can legally own guns as a side, nearly profitless, business. So, yeah. I will give him my business if it all works out. I like supporting such types.
.
On time and actually a bit early. I left early enough to have had breakfast somewhere. And, probably could have had breakfast. However, wanting to look the place over before having to be there, and not sure about how long of a trip it would be, I went by the place first. There wasn't a place to stop and eat, that I saw. I did drive to the next town over. They didn't have a restaurant either. So, back to the shop and a short wait.
The class was mostly for newbies. Which was fine, I sort of expected that. However, there were bits of information that were very important. For one thing, and the most important thing, was what "empty" means regarding sidearms. For an auto, it means a full magazine, in place, just no bullet in the tube. Okay, now this is far different from what empty meant in Iowa. Empty meant no bullets within reasonable reach and no magazine near any bullets or the gun. Yeah. So, you can open carry with a live mag just no bullet chambered. And, yes, I can live with that. For revolvers it means two open chambers, one the hammer rests upon and the next one in the cycle. That was critical, to my way of thinking.
Now, remember, most of these people are civilians. They are non-combatants. They have never fired, nor even been trained to fire, in anything like a real full on combat situation. Further, even if they believe in gun ownership, many are still squeamish about guns, and more importantly about using them. So... I did feel out of place. And, no, I'm not gun happy or gun crazy. No, I wouldn't shoot first and ask questions later. Merely, I am as comfortable with guns as I am with water or driving (more than driving actually) or going to Church (in theory). I would not have a problem killing, either. I would prefer not to, for a number of reasons. But left with little choice and only a moment to choose, I would choose my or another life (of mine) over some stranger or aggressor. And I already know it wouldn't bug me if it went down rightly.
Now, on the other hand, I don't have a passel of kids and a wife to consider. I can be much more cavalier about having a full on loaded pistol anywhere in my house, unlocked and in the open. I don't have people around me who are terrified of guns. My mother, perhaps, but then again I don't toy with my guns around her (or, even when she isn't around). I don't have anything to worry about, including myself. I don't have weird thoughts of suicide or homicide. Such things don't plague me. I am very emotionally stable, and have become even more so through personal gun ownership. A new owner has to make a concentrated effort to figure it all out. The Navy figured it out for me, to a degree, with my allowance of course. And I have figured much out since. Still, it was good to see four women in the group. Though it sounded like none of them would regularly carry (the ones who spoke). Then again, they all seemed nervous about their children (who do like to crawl all over mommy during snuggle time) finding or discharging the gun. I suppose they would save carrying for trips, specific need, etc. Fair enough. And, it's sort of a non-feminine thing.
Anyway, I have the stuff to take in. I believe I have an appointment very soon. I won't, of course, need to take my gun. Couldn't as I can't have my pistol at the V.A. I totally disagree with that. Perhaps with a proper president, and since the psychiatric portion is in a separate building, we might be allowed to have our rights honoered "on federal grounds". Think about that. Just... think about that for a second? Really? We can't have permitted concealed weapons... ON FEDERAL GROUNDS? Really? How insane is that? Never mind.
It is merely by luck that I was able to be awake and there, on time. I seem to make medical appointments, but that edema really caught hold of my attention and the medicines have worked a bit (when I don't tinker or miss out). The rest of life is very difficult to manage. A hook in my nose would work, but then someone would be having to deal with blood rage at some point. A fish net would be of no good use to someone who pulled me in with a fish hook. I am grateful to have made it! Oh, the guy sells guns, sort of. He more or less hooks up those who can legally own guns as a side, nearly profitless, business. So, yeah. I will give him my business if it all works out. I like supporting such types.
Exciting!
.
.
I don't know if I will end up with my ccp, but I am about try. A shower, shave, and the breakfast somewhere. A small breakfast so I don't get sleepy. Eating a large meal doesn't always cause it, but it can. It depends on the class a bit too.
I keep reading about guys who, faced with a bad situation, learn and become more proactive. They learn martial arts, lift weights, and buy a pistol and then on to other firearms or even other weapons. For me, I have only known the type of life that they suddenly become aware of. Many of them realize they are fodder, game, prey, but didn't for most of their lives.
I think the difference between me and many others is; I realize this is just the way of life, it has probably been this way since the beginning of man. Cain and Able were just the first we know of.; Getting in shape, arming up, learning combat, practicing with firearms... All of it is nice, and I would propose people do that, just not to the exclusion of all else. It will eat you up. Further, those things are wise, but they are far from a guarantee. The best warriors in the world die every day.; And, probably worse, should you become a true warrior, a powerhouse, a weaponized human... you then face the prospect that you will become a threat. Most people live like you used to live. Telling the sheep, who you could quite accidentally kill, and the wolves who are an actual threat, apart, is a whole other game.
If you choose to live a proper life, not partying, not going out late, not being around drunks and drug users, and you choose to live in small conservative communities, your life just became almost perfectly safe (all else being equal). Sure, if the markets melt down, if the Euro collapses, if the dollar dies, yes, then there is something else. But if you are useful and fit your small community, you are probably in the best place you could be. It amazes me how choosing a specific lifestyle, and location, has changed my whole notion of safety. Sure, my neighbors could become dangerous. That is unlikely. If for no other reason that the known is safer than the unknown, my reputation seems to have proceeded me (the generally good and knowledge of past moral issues), and the understanding that, in hard situations, numbers are important. Especially hard-tack numbers. And of course, the notion that I am not a simple man, I might be more than what I seem, even beyond what they suspect or have heard. And of course, the almost certainty that I wouldn't be an easy target.
I guess, for me, it just amazes me that so many people go through life with no clue. By the time I was ten I realized I was on my own and that life was very hard. I knew there were people, singular or in groups, who could, would, and did hurt me. Hard. I also learned how to survive without giving in or out. I learned how to schedule things, how to arrange the politics of a fight, how to negotiate the aftermath, and how to win. I even learned, when it was right, to run. I went through twelve more years of open contact fighting. No rules, no safety net, just knuckles on flesh. Stopping when I became ill. But I have more combat training and experience than most people you will ever meet. I guess I just don't understand most people. They really can't even defend themselves. They really don't know that they may need to defend themselves. They are the ones who are truly dangerous. You don't know what they can or will do, and selling out, giving up, is all they know.
Well, on to my morning. Good day. I suppose I pray that more people wake up to what the world is, where it is going, and begin changing. That's a hard thing, growing up. Not doing so is far worse. Later.
.
I don't know if I will end up with my ccp, but I am about try. A shower, shave, and the breakfast somewhere. A small breakfast so I don't get sleepy. Eating a large meal doesn't always cause it, but it can. It depends on the class a bit too.
I keep reading about guys who, faced with a bad situation, learn and become more proactive. They learn martial arts, lift weights, and buy a pistol and then on to other firearms or even other weapons. For me, I have only known the type of life that they suddenly become aware of. Many of them realize they are fodder, game, prey, but didn't for most of their lives.
I think the difference between me and many others is; I realize this is just the way of life, it has probably been this way since the beginning of man. Cain and Able were just the first we know of.; Getting in shape, arming up, learning combat, practicing with firearms... All of it is nice, and I would propose people do that, just not to the exclusion of all else. It will eat you up. Further, those things are wise, but they are far from a guarantee. The best warriors in the world die every day.; And, probably worse, should you become a true warrior, a powerhouse, a weaponized human... you then face the prospect that you will become a threat. Most people live like you used to live. Telling the sheep, who you could quite accidentally kill, and the wolves who are an actual threat, apart, is a whole other game.
If you choose to live a proper life, not partying, not going out late, not being around drunks and drug users, and you choose to live in small conservative communities, your life just became almost perfectly safe (all else being equal). Sure, if the markets melt down, if the Euro collapses, if the dollar dies, yes, then there is something else. But if you are useful and fit your small community, you are probably in the best place you could be. It amazes me how choosing a specific lifestyle, and location, has changed my whole notion of safety. Sure, my neighbors could become dangerous. That is unlikely. If for no other reason that the known is safer than the unknown, my reputation seems to have proceeded me (the generally good and knowledge of past moral issues), and the understanding that, in hard situations, numbers are important. Especially hard-tack numbers. And of course, the notion that I am not a simple man, I might be more than what I seem, even beyond what they suspect or have heard. And of course, the almost certainty that I wouldn't be an easy target.
I guess, for me, it just amazes me that so many people go through life with no clue. By the time I was ten I realized I was on my own and that life was very hard. I knew there were people, singular or in groups, who could, would, and did hurt me. Hard. I also learned how to survive without giving in or out. I learned how to schedule things, how to arrange the politics of a fight, how to negotiate the aftermath, and how to win. I even learned, when it was right, to run. I went through twelve more years of open contact fighting. No rules, no safety net, just knuckles on flesh. Stopping when I became ill. But I have more combat training and experience than most people you will ever meet. I guess I just don't understand most people. They really can't even defend themselves. They really don't know that they may need to defend themselves. They are the ones who are truly dangerous. You don't know what they can or will do, and selling out, giving up, is all they know.
Well, on to my morning. Good day. I suppose I pray that more people wake up to what the world is, where it is going, and begin changing. That's a hard thing, growing up. Not doing so is far worse. Later.
Oh well.
.
.
I am up in time to go to the class this morning. It's a four hour class. Nothing fancy, just the facts. I will look over the email. I know I am supposed to bring a pen with black (NOT BLUE) ink. I will need to sign a waiver of some sort, which I have read and agree to in mind. My printer isn't working so I can't print and sign ahead of time. Oh, and I need to have $35 on me. I do, but not in change, so I might replace some of the ones I keep on hand for a twenty, in case they can't make change (many people pay with checks or cards these days).
Not much else is going on. I just haven't been able to push through. When I can't use the computer as a crutch to stay awake, and often far too long, then I sleep. Just keeping on medicine and slipping a bit but trying to stay on the feedbag and liquids, is about the sum of things. I'll get to it, soon. Doldrums, that's about the way of it. As I said before though, I am doing better. This, for years at a time, was the high point. This current low was as good as it got. I have to keep that in mind, not let my grip slip, not quit. This IS good. It just isn't as good as it can and will again get.
I suppose, once the medicine is at therapeutic levels, and there for three months or so, we will then check the heart function. No, I am not at max (therapeutic) levels yet. Going up too fast causes my blood pressure to drop far too low and too quickly. Medicine is sort of like walking a tightwire. That is why that messup cost me so dearly (and why I really have to try not to let it happen again). Getting back on the wire, midpoint, is more than a trick (and that is why I am having such problems right now). It is also why I am biting my tongue and just trying to be patient. I have seen what it can do. It is worth the effort, including a bit of waiting, patience.
.
I am up in time to go to the class this morning. It's a four hour class. Nothing fancy, just the facts. I will look over the email. I know I am supposed to bring a pen with black (NOT BLUE) ink. I will need to sign a waiver of some sort, which I have read and agree to in mind. My printer isn't working so I can't print and sign ahead of time. Oh, and I need to have $35 on me. I do, but not in change, so I might replace some of the ones I keep on hand for a twenty, in case they can't make change (many people pay with checks or cards these days).
Not much else is going on. I just haven't been able to push through. When I can't use the computer as a crutch to stay awake, and often far too long, then I sleep. Just keeping on medicine and slipping a bit but trying to stay on the feedbag and liquids, is about the sum of things. I'll get to it, soon. Doldrums, that's about the way of it. As I said before though, I am doing better. This, for years at a time, was the high point. This current low was as good as it got. I have to keep that in mind, not let my grip slip, not quit. This IS good. It just isn't as good as it can and will again get.
I suppose, once the medicine is at therapeutic levels, and there for three months or so, we will then check the heart function. No, I am not at max (therapeutic) levels yet. Going up too fast causes my blood pressure to drop far too low and too quickly. Medicine is sort of like walking a tightwire. That is why that messup cost me so dearly (and why I really have to try not to let it happen again). Getting back on the wire, midpoint, is more than a trick (and that is why I am having such problems right now). It is also why I am biting my tongue and just trying to be patient. I have seen what it can do. It is worth the effort, including a bit of waiting, patience.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Yeah, well...
.
.
Not much happening today. I just can't seem to get going. Medicine was taken, of course. Cats have been fed and watered. If they keeping goofing, they might get planted too! Then again, I am weening them off the canned cat food, I expected restless natives. Sam just stays gone longer and Sassy varies. Sometimes she goes on the attack, sometimes she just curls up and sleeps more. Both beg pretty hard. A can and a half for Sassy and a half a can for Sam, that's it.
I'm just not able to get going. I have something early tomorrow morning, a class for ccp. I don't know if it will go through but I think it has a chance. If there was an identification problem before, fingerprints will clear that up. There is no shooting part to it, which is too bad. Adding in a shooting requirement would open up a number more states for reciprocity. As is, with a ccp from Utah, I can travel to Iowa (and now be in Iowa) acceptably. And while traveling I really like having a pistol or three right there. It helps with vibrancy. Ah-ha! No one ever expects a .45 when trying to rob!
Hmm, I need the fans going. Maybe that will help. Later.
.
Not much happening today. I just can't seem to get going. Medicine was taken, of course. Cats have been fed and watered. If they keeping goofing, they might get planted too! Then again, I am weening them off the canned cat food, I expected restless natives. Sam just stays gone longer and Sassy varies. Sometimes she goes on the attack, sometimes she just curls up and sleeps more. Both beg pretty hard. A can and a half for Sassy and a half a can for Sam, that's it.
I'm just not able to get going. I have something early tomorrow morning, a class for ccp. I don't know if it will go through but I think it has a chance. If there was an identification problem before, fingerprints will clear that up. There is no shooting part to it, which is too bad. Adding in a shooting requirement would open up a number more states for reciprocity. As is, with a ccp from Utah, I can travel to Iowa (and now be in Iowa) acceptably. And while traveling I really like having a pistol or three right there. It helps with vibrancy. Ah-ha! No one ever expects a .45 when trying to rob!
Hmm, I need the fans going. Maybe that will help. Later.
What a storm!
.
.
What rolled through here was nothing short of one of the finest thunderstorms I have seen. It has to rank in the top 40, and I'm a fanboy of hell, rain, lightening, and thunder. I am not sure how long it went on, but it woke me around 23:00 and I think went on another fifteen minutes to half an hour. I wanted to get up, check the windows, and begin my "day", but the lights were out, power down. I used to keep my flashlight by the bed but it has been moved over time. So I had to blindly search the house for anything. The first thing I was sure of was matches in a cupboard in the kitchen.
Actually, I was quite easily able to find my way in there, find the matches, and get some light. Then I remembered I had taken my favored flashlight into the reloading room. Sorry, but I just wasn't going to take a lit match in there. Had to think a moment. Ah, another flashlight in a kitchen drawer! I got that out and flicked it on. What a hunk of junk. It worked but was terrible. It was from a $70 dollar Snap-On flashlight set. I thought the batteries were dieing. Nope, new batteries, same crappy light, and no way to focus. Oh well. I used it to look for my $12 cheapo Guide Gear flashlight. Dang but I love me some cheapo! That thing is absolute light, it is on spot, focused, and has a large beam. It is more powerful than the 4-D flashlight from the Snap-On kit. It fits my hand perfectly, has a butt-plate switch, glass breaking butt round, and makes me proud to once in a while try the cheap stuff.
Anyway, I finally got it all together, checked the windows (the storm was coming in from the South-West I believe, but the rain was pouring in from the North windows, had to close those. There was some serious wind action going on there. The bummer was, in finding everything, checking windows, and finally getting to a point where I might be able to watch the storm, the excitement had pretty much passed. I could hear the thunder though, while doing all my doings. It sounded like the lightening was fingering out. Oh yeah, I do love that. When you see huge flashes coming right in your window, then five or ten seconds later you hear the sound and can still hear the separate fingerlings, you know you've got a light show going on. Maybe some time I will get to see that. I absolutely love watching that.
Anyway, with nothing on, moving, or doing, I just went back to bed. I woke at 3:00, lights were back on, so I got up. Now, to figure out what to do. I'm still just not up to snuff. Pushing doesn't help. For me, the thing is to stay on my medicines, to eat, to hydrate properly, and to do whatever it is I can do. So, that is what I will do, am doing. Medicines down the hatch, including the oft forgotten potassium, a shower, and maybe the bike today when the sun comes up. The deliveryman hadn't delivered the stove when I went to sleep yesterday (sometime after 15:00, or he snuck in and didn't ring). I was sitting right near the door and didn't hear a thing (and I hear well and am always listening intently). But I have noticed deliverymen have become extremely "efficient" lately. My guess is companies are laying off, the slow(er) first. It is now cutthroat for them? Yeah, probably. Odd thing is, with the storm coming from the South-West... and rain (deluge type) beating in through an overhang on the North side, the boxes on the South side were... dry? Weird as heck.
(Woke at 3:00)
.
What rolled through here was nothing short of one of the finest thunderstorms I have seen. It has to rank in the top 40, and I'm a fanboy of hell, rain, lightening, and thunder. I am not sure how long it went on, but it woke me around 23:00 and I think went on another fifteen minutes to half an hour. I wanted to get up, check the windows, and begin my "day", but the lights were out, power down. I used to keep my flashlight by the bed but it has been moved over time. So I had to blindly search the house for anything. The first thing I was sure of was matches in a cupboard in the kitchen.
Actually, I was quite easily able to find my way in there, find the matches, and get some light. Then I remembered I had taken my favored flashlight into the reloading room. Sorry, but I just wasn't going to take a lit match in there. Had to think a moment. Ah, another flashlight in a kitchen drawer! I got that out and flicked it on. What a hunk of junk. It worked but was terrible. It was from a $70 dollar Snap-On flashlight set. I thought the batteries were dieing. Nope, new batteries, same crappy light, and no way to focus. Oh well. I used it to look for my $12 cheapo Guide Gear flashlight. Dang but I love me some cheapo! That thing is absolute light, it is on spot, focused, and has a large beam. It is more powerful than the 4-D flashlight from the Snap-On kit. It fits my hand perfectly, has a butt-plate switch, glass breaking butt round, and makes me proud to once in a while try the cheap stuff.
Anyway, I finally got it all together, checked the windows (the storm was coming in from the South-West I believe, but the rain was pouring in from the North windows, had to close those. There was some serious wind action going on there. The bummer was, in finding everything, checking windows, and finally getting to a point where I might be able to watch the storm, the excitement had pretty much passed. I could hear the thunder though, while doing all my doings. It sounded like the lightening was fingering out. Oh yeah, I do love that. When you see huge flashes coming right in your window, then five or ten seconds later you hear the sound and can still hear the separate fingerlings, you know you've got a light show going on. Maybe some time I will get to see that. I absolutely love watching that.
Anyway, with nothing on, moving, or doing, I just went back to bed. I woke at 3:00, lights were back on, so I got up. Now, to figure out what to do. I'm still just not up to snuff. Pushing doesn't help. For me, the thing is to stay on my medicines, to eat, to hydrate properly, and to do whatever it is I can do. So, that is what I will do, am doing. Medicines down the hatch, including the oft forgotten potassium, a shower, and maybe the bike today when the sun comes up. The deliveryman hadn't delivered the stove when I went to sleep yesterday (sometime after 15:00, or he snuck in and didn't ring). I was sitting right near the door and didn't hear a thing (and I hear well and am always listening intently). But I have noticed deliverymen have become extremely "efficient" lately. My guess is companies are laying off, the slow(er) first. It is now cutthroat for them? Yeah, probably. Odd thing is, with the storm coming from the South-West... and rain (deluge type) beating in through an overhang on the North side, the boxes on the South side were... dry? Weird as heck.
(Woke at 3:00)
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Long days indeed.
.
.
I knew this would be part of getting back on 'the wagon'. That medicinal malfunction messed things up pretty good, along with the extra fluid retention. It will take, as I said, another week or two to get things back to function. Knowing what the problem is does not make fixing it any faster. What knowing does is keeps me focused on staying on track. Even though I now realize there probably is no getting back to full health. Even if I can get my heart to pump normal amounts, which is improbable, figuring out life after 20 years and change of living a certain way is going to be another thing. And, being 20 years and change older adds to the mix of uncertainty.
Of course I don't really worry. I am used to living on a day to day, do what I can, take it as it comes methodology. There is always some hope that I could find my way through, say to college and a job. Maybe more. For the first time in two decades I at least know what my bogyman is. I have biometric parameters I can check which do line up with lack of function. I do see improvements, if more slowly than what I like, when these things are tended. I have doctors who are earning my trust.
My days are getting very long. The cool weather is probably helping keep the thing under wraps though. A 36 hour day is not unusual. The trick I have to keep in mind is continuing to take my medicines. When your day starts one morning and ends the afternoon of the next day, it becomes a little uncomfortable knowing when to take medicine. More so when that stretch feels normal, easy, typical, somehow. I am not sure how long I am sleeping, I simply have just been going to sleep when needed and waking at some point, usually feeling rested and comfortable. Perhaps now that I am doing better I can begin tracking that. It had been useless to play with it just recently.
I just write stuff here as a distraction, as a hobby, to clear thoughts, set goals, interact, and perhaps keep my writing and logic skills, slim as they are, up to some standards. Even if the internet is proving unreliable as a solid source of easy information, it is proving to be a bit of a lifeline and social forum. I can take that. Thanks Al. Ha!
Have a great day. Maybe I will get to the bike today. No, I didn't get to it. Yes, yes, I said I would. No, I won't... Get... get off my back! :p But have a good day anywhile.
.
I knew this would be part of getting back on 'the wagon'. That medicinal malfunction messed things up pretty good, along with the extra fluid retention. It will take, as I said, another week or two to get things back to function. Knowing what the problem is does not make fixing it any faster. What knowing does is keeps me focused on staying on track. Even though I now realize there probably is no getting back to full health. Even if I can get my heart to pump normal amounts, which is improbable, figuring out life after 20 years and change of living a certain way is going to be another thing. And, being 20 years and change older adds to the mix of uncertainty.
Of course I don't really worry. I am used to living on a day to day, do what I can, take it as it comes methodology. There is always some hope that I could find my way through, say to college and a job. Maybe more. For the first time in two decades I at least know what my bogyman is. I have biometric parameters I can check which do line up with lack of function. I do see improvements, if more slowly than what I like, when these things are tended. I have doctors who are earning my trust.
My days are getting very long. The cool weather is probably helping keep the thing under wraps though. A 36 hour day is not unusual. The trick I have to keep in mind is continuing to take my medicines. When your day starts one morning and ends the afternoon of the next day, it becomes a little uncomfortable knowing when to take medicine. More so when that stretch feels normal, easy, typical, somehow. I am not sure how long I am sleeping, I simply have just been going to sleep when needed and waking at some point, usually feeling rested and comfortable. Perhaps now that I am doing better I can begin tracking that. It had been useless to play with it just recently.
I just write stuff here as a distraction, as a hobby, to clear thoughts, set goals, interact, and perhaps keep my writing and logic skills, slim as they are, up to some standards. Even if the internet is proving unreliable as a solid source of easy information, it is proving to be a bit of a lifeline and social forum. I can take that. Thanks Al. Ha!
Have a great day. Maybe I will get to the bike today. No, I didn't get to it. Yes, yes, I said I would. No, I won't... Get... get off my back! :p But have a good day anywhile.
Odd things, but...
.
.
I keep thinking about the kitchen. What to do, how to get it done, costs. A kitchen is a huge project. If well designed, a kitchen is an amazing place. The heat needed for cooking is kept tamed, the air flow needed to cool or maintain heat is readily available, the floors and walls are safe, there is space for cooking and baking goods and consumables, there is plenty of easy access space for preparing food, and cleanup is simple and easy access. Designed poorly and the place is unsafe, uncomfortable, unsatisfactory, unpleasant, and any or all of those and more. My kitchen, plain and simple, is a nuisance. I have a huge space and yet no place to work at all. Beside making the kitchen useable, improvements would add value to the house as a whole.
Something else I keep looking at, wood fired cooking stoves, and this stove. They seem to indicate these can work as house heaters, too. But I am dubious about that. I love the looks of the second one, but the function of the first one a lot more. Oh, I remember my foster mother tending this to cook and bake when we were in the mountains, at their cabin. We also had a standard fireplace there. She had one like the prettier one, if not quite as fancy. She made it seem simple, but it wasn't. Adding wood at just the right time and adjusting vents to maintain a specific temp. Starting the fire then waiting while it heated. Cleaning out the dust was messy, if she made even that look easy. She had talent, though by the time I knew her she had nearly 20 years of (albeit just summer) practice with the contraption. A family uses 8 to 12 cords of wood a year (in the northern climbs). A cord, in Utah, if I saw correctly, goes for around $125, plus delivery. Or, a permit to collect is $7.50 a cord with a minimum of 4 cords per permit. That, of course, would require the tools to take lumber and the capacity to haul it. Ugh, never ending. There is another downside. You always smell like a smoker. Maybe things have improved, but I am doubting it. My first year up there I still smoked, yes, only a 7th grader, hushit. I could always find cigarettes, just... followed my nose and kept my eyes open, if pilfering was needed. Up there they never could tell I had been smoking.
I don't know, just something on my mind. Actually, if I was to do that, I would also consider a smaller but regular wood heater in the living room. I still haven't investigated the old fireplace here. Even if it isn't up to specs, it would probably still do just fine with an insert. An insert would be a lot more fuel efficient, too. The thing is, until I decide I can even afford to break into the drywall to check about the fireplace, I can't know if an insert will work. It depends on which way the fireplace opening is facing. The thing is, with all that, we are talking about $6k to $10k, just in purchase price. Taxes, delivery, installation, alterations... extra. Yeah. But it is on the backburner for when I win the lottery! Maybe I ought to start playing? Ha, one of the other good things about Utah? No lottery. It's an honest state. (And, no, I would not play the lotto even if it were here, nor should you. Even if you aren't into the whole morality thing, perhaps you should be into the whole math and economic thing? Doh!)
Some things to consider when considering updating my kitchen. Going forward is not always going... well... forward. You can keep your stainless appliances. You can keep your electric. You can keep dainty materials that won't hold up to an ogre chef. But that doesn't mean it will be cheap, either. Trading in flash for good quality means solid materials and workmanship, things that are more at a premium than ever.
Oh, sounds like my outside wood/coal oven and water pasteurizer are here. The delivery company called and asked for my physical address. That disappoints me a bit. The problem ordering, as I came to figure out, was that the address section would not take both of my addresses for my credit card to work. At first, when doing it, it looked like both were required, but only one was really needed. Taking a break from it allowed me to see the missing detail when I returned to try again. So, I took off my physical address. I noticed they had a place for "extra instructions". So, I wrote a brief simple note indicating that, should they not be using USPS (should I have spelled it out?), that they send it to my physical address, which I supplied. Well, no real bother unless I hadn't happened to be awake to receive the call. Remember now, for most of my twenty years of illness, when I happened to be awake, I was almost exclusively awake in the afternoons or even more so at night. Bah!
Hmm, come to think of it, that is quite a change. As recently as two years ago, I was almost always only awake at night. I still sometimes go through that, but it isn't the usual. Just... noticing things I guess. Oh, on the good side with the wood stove consideration... Since I am planning to upgrade the kitchen, I could add in special insulation so that I could have the stove more flush with the walls. Hmm, I keep thinking on it all.
Later.
.
I keep thinking about the kitchen. What to do, how to get it done, costs. A kitchen is a huge project. If well designed, a kitchen is an amazing place. The heat needed for cooking is kept tamed, the air flow needed to cool or maintain heat is readily available, the floors and walls are safe, there is space for cooking and baking goods and consumables, there is plenty of easy access space for preparing food, and cleanup is simple and easy access. Designed poorly and the place is unsafe, uncomfortable, unsatisfactory, unpleasant, and any or all of those and more. My kitchen, plain and simple, is a nuisance. I have a huge space and yet no place to work at all. Beside making the kitchen useable, improvements would add value to the house as a whole.
Something else I keep looking at, wood fired cooking stoves, and this stove. They seem to indicate these can work as house heaters, too. But I am dubious about that. I love the looks of the second one, but the function of the first one a lot more. Oh, I remember my foster mother tending this to cook and bake when we were in the mountains, at their cabin. We also had a standard fireplace there. She had one like the prettier one, if not quite as fancy. She made it seem simple, but it wasn't. Adding wood at just the right time and adjusting vents to maintain a specific temp. Starting the fire then waiting while it heated. Cleaning out the dust was messy, if she made even that look easy. She had talent, though by the time I knew her she had nearly 20 years of (albeit just summer) practice with the contraption. A family uses 8 to 12 cords of wood a year (in the northern climbs). A cord, in Utah, if I saw correctly, goes for around $125, plus delivery. Or, a permit to collect is $7.50 a cord with a minimum of 4 cords per permit. That, of course, would require the tools to take lumber and the capacity to haul it. Ugh, never ending. There is another downside. You always smell like a smoker. Maybe things have improved, but I am doubting it. My first year up there I still smoked, yes, only a 7th grader, hushit. I could always find cigarettes, just... followed my nose and kept my eyes open, if pilfering was needed. Up there they never could tell I had been smoking.
I don't know, just something on my mind. Actually, if I was to do that, I would also consider a smaller but regular wood heater in the living room. I still haven't investigated the old fireplace here. Even if it isn't up to specs, it would probably still do just fine with an insert. An insert would be a lot more fuel efficient, too. The thing is, until I decide I can even afford to break into the drywall to check about the fireplace, I can't know if an insert will work. It depends on which way the fireplace opening is facing. The thing is, with all that, we are talking about $6k to $10k, just in purchase price. Taxes, delivery, installation, alterations... extra. Yeah. But it is on the backburner for when I win the lottery! Maybe I ought to start playing? Ha, one of the other good things about Utah? No lottery. It's an honest state. (And, no, I would not play the lotto even if it were here, nor should you. Even if you aren't into the whole morality thing, perhaps you should be into the whole math and economic thing? Doh!)
Some things to consider when considering updating my kitchen. Going forward is not always going... well... forward. You can keep your stainless appliances. You can keep your electric. You can keep dainty materials that won't hold up to an ogre chef. But that doesn't mean it will be cheap, either. Trading in flash for good quality means solid materials and workmanship, things that are more at a premium than ever.
Oh, sounds like my outside wood/coal oven and water pasteurizer are here. The delivery company called and asked for my physical address. That disappoints me a bit. The problem ordering, as I came to figure out, was that the address section would not take both of my addresses for my credit card to work. At first, when doing it, it looked like both were required, but only one was really needed. Taking a break from it allowed me to see the missing detail when I returned to try again. So, I took off my physical address. I noticed they had a place for "extra instructions". So, I wrote a brief simple note indicating that, should they not be using USPS (should I have spelled it out?), that they send it to my physical address, which I supplied. Well, no real bother unless I hadn't happened to be awake to receive the call. Remember now, for most of my twenty years of illness, when I happened to be awake, I was almost exclusively awake in the afternoons or even more so at night. Bah!
Hmm, come to think of it, that is quite a change. As recently as two years ago, I was almost always only awake at night. I still sometimes go through that, but it isn't the usual. Just... noticing things I guess. Oh, on the good side with the wood stove consideration... Since I am planning to upgrade the kitchen, I could add in special insulation so that I could have the stove more flush with the walls. Hmm, I keep thinking on it all.
Later.
Fear, you have no fear?
.
.
When I hear this I have to laugh. I hear people say that you shouldn't have it, that you are a pussy if you do. Bunk. I fear, deeply, right to my soul. At least in the secular aspects of life. Yes, I fear you. In the ways of war, fear is very good. The only thing slightly better is the ability to overcome and act right through that fear. Fear is a potent gift, only bested by terror, horror, and shame. With these for fuel, you may begin your path of the warrior. Any method that does not include inculcating these things, or worse trying to force one to outright deny these things, are failed methods. More poetry than truth. Probably written by old men who have wet themselves and decided war is for other men. Fear, along with duty, strength of will, and a willingness to live right in hell to get it done, these are the ways. Then again, even the fighting class in America has had such a good life that they don't understand. You can be fearless if death is never a strong possibility. I haven't had that luxury, and gladly.
Even so, I have become an old man, as warriors go. I would rather not fight, though that was always true. I just will not lead the young astray with stories of glory and brotherhood and all that rot. You are as alone in the hell of war as you would be in hell itself. You best know that. All the things you stand for are fiction when you face death. You do it for yourself. Your brothers in arms only get you over that first hump, that first bit of weakness that might show. After that, it's your gig, solo, singular. Don't think there is any glory to it. I think it is more like pride. If you make it out of serious shit, and lots of it, over a long time, you won't think you are special. You will be. But special ain't pretty. And it ain't what you think it is. You will most likely be a feral beast inside. You will have to learn to negotiate with that, and you probably won't always win (or even get a say, until you begin figuring a few things out). Drink a pint of blood and come back to me. If you do this, you will be on your way. One step on a thousand mile journey, a journey you probably won't survive, one way or the other.
Ah, but good hunting. Especially you fearless types. *grins*
.
When I hear this I have to laugh. I hear people say that you shouldn't have it, that you are a pussy if you do. Bunk. I fear, deeply, right to my soul. At least in the secular aspects of life. Yes, I fear you. In the ways of war, fear is very good. The only thing slightly better is the ability to overcome and act right through that fear. Fear is a potent gift, only bested by terror, horror, and shame. With these for fuel, you may begin your path of the warrior. Any method that does not include inculcating these things, or worse trying to force one to outright deny these things, are failed methods. More poetry than truth. Probably written by old men who have wet themselves and decided war is for other men. Fear, along with duty, strength of will, and a willingness to live right in hell to get it done, these are the ways. Then again, even the fighting class in America has had such a good life that they don't understand. You can be fearless if death is never a strong possibility. I haven't had that luxury, and gladly.
Even so, I have become an old man, as warriors go. I would rather not fight, though that was always true. I just will not lead the young astray with stories of glory and brotherhood and all that rot. You are as alone in the hell of war as you would be in hell itself. You best know that. All the things you stand for are fiction when you face death. You do it for yourself. Your brothers in arms only get you over that first hump, that first bit of weakness that might show. After that, it's your gig, solo, singular. Don't think there is any glory to it. I think it is more like pride. If you make it out of serious shit, and lots of it, over a long time, you won't think you are special. You will be. But special ain't pretty. And it ain't what you think it is. You will most likely be a feral beast inside. You will have to learn to negotiate with that, and you probably won't always win (or even get a say, until you begin figuring a few things out). Drink a pint of blood and come back to me. If you do this, you will be on your way. One step on a thousand mile journey, a journey you probably won't survive, one way or the other.
Ah, but good hunting. Especially you fearless types. *grins*
Cats, the feeding and care thereof.
.
.
I am never quite sure when it comes to anything, myself any more than animals. I do try to find the best information. It is out there, sitting in piles of incomplete, obsolete, and incorrect information. I am not sure the internet is any more helpful than common sense, and it can be less helpful even harmful. Adding to that, how would you ever know? You can't go back in time and do it over, another cat or human is different. Perhaps what seemed to help really didn't and it would have been better to have done nothing, the exact opposite, or something else.
In any case, my deal is with Sassy, and to a degree Sam. Sassy isn't stroke ready fat, but she has a few extra ounces, to be sure. Further, with food on tap, and often the ability to whine me into feeding her a can of wet stuff (or cause that just by being cute), she has little incentive to go and hunt, be more active, and such. She has become my little commucat. To create change, I am not feeding her the wet stuff nearly as often. And I don't tolerate bad behavior for it, out the door she will go if she acts like a spoiled rugrat. A can a day, and two half cans (I feed the other half to Sam). I am keeping the dry food readily available, but she doesn't overeat that. To my chagrin, she is merely being less active, rather than going outside. Maybe she is still too young to be tinkering with her food like this? She is a little over a year old.
Sam, on the other hand, is skinny as can be. I have offered her as much food as I can. She loves both the dry and wet cat food, the wet preferred, and eats heartily. No matter how much I offer, and how much she seems to eat, she just goes out and burns it off. She is my capitacat. She uses everything she gets to gain more while keeping trim and slim. I would like to get a bit more weight on her. But barring putting her in a cage and feeding her up, probably permanently, I don't think it will work. Some sisters these two turned out to be.
Ah, but she is such a cute little beggar. If Sam wants back in, I'll feed them a half a can (then let Sam right back out so she can puke, saving it for later I guess). What was that? Oh, right. The problem with socialism is socialism. The problem with capitalism is capitalists. And, yeah, it sort of works. Even when they are cats!
.
I am never quite sure when it comes to anything, myself any more than animals. I do try to find the best information. It is out there, sitting in piles of incomplete, obsolete, and incorrect information. I am not sure the internet is any more helpful than common sense, and it can be less helpful even harmful. Adding to that, how would you ever know? You can't go back in time and do it over, another cat or human is different. Perhaps what seemed to help really didn't and it would have been better to have done nothing, the exact opposite, or something else.
In any case, my deal is with Sassy, and to a degree Sam. Sassy isn't stroke ready fat, but she has a few extra ounces, to be sure. Further, with food on tap, and often the ability to whine me into feeding her a can of wet stuff (or cause that just by being cute), she has little incentive to go and hunt, be more active, and such. She has become my little commucat. To create change, I am not feeding her the wet stuff nearly as often. And I don't tolerate bad behavior for it, out the door she will go if she acts like a spoiled rugrat. A can a day, and two half cans (I feed the other half to Sam). I am keeping the dry food readily available, but she doesn't overeat that. To my chagrin, she is merely being less active, rather than going outside. Maybe she is still too young to be tinkering with her food like this? She is a little over a year old.
Sam, on the other hand, is skinny as can be. I have offered her as much food as I can. She loves both the dry and wet cat food, the wet preferred, and eats heartily. No matter how much I offer, and how much she seems to eat, she just goes out and burns it off. She is my capitacat. She uses everything she gets to gain more while keeping trim and slim. I would like to get a bit more weight on her. But barring putting her in a cage and feeding her up, probably permanently, I don't think it will work. Some sisters these two turned out to be.
Ah, but she is such a cute little beggar. If Sam wants back in, I'll feed them a half a can (then let Sam right back out so she can puke, saving it for later I guess). What was that? Oh, right. The problem with socialism is socialism. The problem with capitalism is capitalists. And, yeah, it sort of works. Even when they are cats!
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Dang it, again!
.
.
It is 11:00 and here I sit. Just haven't been able to motivate my sphincter to quit making out with my chair. Well, I'm going to. No promises, that is just the way of it. I am not sure I will make it to town, but I will get the bike prepped. I probably won't ride it though, not this late, this hot. If only I hadn't messed up on the medicine, I think I would still be gliding high and free. Sometimes being stubborn and self-reproaching is not a successful plan. Then again it isn't a plan, those are design features that may well have saved the world. Well, those and ego sometimes, maybe? Piss off. *laughs*
A bit of excitement earlier. Four horses were out on the highway that passes by my home and on through town. A semi had to stop, then honk. For whatever reason, the highway seemed like the place to be. I thought to go out and shoo them, but... I have no tack, I have no idea where they belong, and really, decided that was probably not the best plan. So I called the sheriff. I am sure they have a better plan in place than me running after four full sized horses, chasing them to... nowhere (or the reverse should they have been ornery). No, actually, I wouldn't run from a horse. No use. Just stand and prep for whatever, including a solid punch to the nose, more like it. Oh, you can punch a gnarly horse, even a bear. And, really, having the choice, I would much rather have to punch a horse. They can hurt you but they aren't predators and are rather pain adverse. I suppose bears are pain adverse as well, but by that point they wouldn't even feel a punch like a horse would. Theory, mind you, mostly.
Well, on to... the bike! Later.
.
It is 11:00 and here I sit. Just haven't been able to motivate my sphincter to quit making out with my chair. Well, I'm going to. No promises, that is just the way of it. I am not sure I will make it to town, but I will get the bike prepped. I probably won't ride it though, not this late, this hot. If only I hadn't messed up on the medicine, I think I would still be gliding high and free. Sometimes being stubborn and self-reproaching is not a successful plan. Then again it isn't a plan, those are design features that may well have saved the world. Well, those and ego sometimes, maybe? Piss off. *laughs*
A bit of excitement earlier. Four horses were out on the highway that passes by my home and on through town. A semi had to stop, then honk. For whatever reason, the highway seemed like the place to be. I thought to go out and shoo them, but... I have no tack, I have no idea where they belong, and really, decided that was probably not the best plan. So I called the sheriff. I am sure they have a better plan in place than me running after four full sized horses, chasing them to... nowhere (or the reverse should they have been ornery). No, actually, I wouldn't run from a horse. No use. Just stand and prep for whatever, including a solid punch to the nose, more like it. Oh, you can punch a gnarly horse, even a bear. And, really, having the choice, I would much rather have to punch a horse. They can hurt you but they aren't predators and are rather pain adverse. I suppose bears are pain adverse as well, but by that point they wouldn't even feel a punch like a horse would. Theory, mind you, mostly.
Well, on to... the bike! Later.
The bike.
.
.
I do believe I will get to finishing the bike this morning. None of the tasks remaining are complicated in any way. I don't even believe drilling will be needed as the bike has holes, mostly plugged for now, for any brackets. Other devices simply attach to the handlebars or seat and seat post. If it goes quickly enough, perhaps a test ride in a bit. Not too early. There is a great deal of morning traffic, people going to work, some getting off work. Then again, I'll be staying in town initially. I will get some pictures of the bike when finished, just in case it ends up mashed somehow, on the maiden voyage. Oh trust me, it could happen. I lead a charmed life.
I signed up for a class to attempt to get my conceal carry permit. It will be $35 for the class and then about $70 for state fees. I believe I will take the paperwork in, in person, and pay with cash, the next time I visit the V.A. I have an appointment coming up in a week or so. Hmm, I think I forgot to put that on my smart phone or calendar. Good thing I blog. I don't know if that department is still slow, but I had heard that paying there, in cash, sped things up. That is coming up in days!
If I do get that, I will probably begin looking around and making final plans for a small .357 mag, I'm thinking that Chief's Special, by
S&W will do nicely. But I would like to shoot it and some others, read a bit more, you know... enjoy the process. After that probably a hunting rifle (unless that Kel Tec shotgun comes available and is reasonable to actually obtain). Shotgun before rifle, then a rifle (or two). And, finally, in the more distant future, the goal would be a S&W 500 or 460. I'm still... considering. The 500 is more immediate power, the .460 takes .45 long colt, .454 cassull, as well as the .460, none a bad round (if not truly great, either, save for the .460 as an actual hunting round to a hundred yards, give or take, maybe more with scope, though if more with scope I would be okay out to 150, maybe 200 I think, stock). Then again, since I own a reloader, I could power that 500 right about down to a .45 long colt round (if I really wanted to). The only thing is the cases for the 500 would be the same no matter how I loaded it. Then again, even a .45 long colt case (for loading the bullet, powder, and primer into or in) is pretty darn scary expensive. Though you don't shoot these things like .22's either. Bah...
While the foot felt a lot better with the "donut" off the bottom, I still felt I needed something. While what was left was not exactly an open bleeding wound, it was down to the meat and open. So I put on one of my larger area band-aids, after adding some triple antibiotic cream. Yeah, that felt much better. I am not going to hike on it until it looks much better. I am going into town and will look at inserts too. Something to pad that front food pad for the most part, but fits the rest of my foot well enough. More on the left side, but it used to be both foot pads.
Oh, when I discuss "preppers" doing bogus things, I discuss things like rope bracelets. That is a good way to cut up good 'twine' (550 para cord). While it could be useful if you were dropped literally in the middle of wilderness, that isn't going to happen and it's real usefulness would be extremely limited. You had best also know to and be prepared to drink your own urine. Just saying. I see dozens of guys who have spent an inordinate amount of time making these things, and things like them. Sure, if prepping is trendy and you wish to prove something, go for it. But don't think I will think you are a survivor because you are wearing seven to ten feet of cord! Even making fast rope has limited use. If in a static place, near say a cliff, it might have some real use for escape or even weather specific lodging changes, faster routs, or such. But the sun will eat nylon cord. You did know that, right? And only 36 meters? No, come now. That is a serious waste of resources in time, money, and thought processes. This is what I am talking about when guys are blowing smoke, wasting resources, and such. If you want a good way to carry cord, simply always have a pack with you and do this to your cord. Hmm, then again, rather than heavy duty fast rope, imagine using eight 100 foot lines of 550 para like this (I suppose you would lose 1/4 to half to the length in the process, but might be a good rope?)? It also continues on to show how to splice a loop and whip-stitch the end in following videos. Hmm. Damn, I like that.
Well, that's about it. I should get on with the bike, then on into town. Hmm, brisket, I think, for lunch. Yeah, I like that stuff. Last time it was way too dry though. Then again, last time their place was flooded so they were doing the best they could, continuing to work outside. So, yeah, I will give them a bit of a pass. But they should have it down by now. Hrumph.
.
I do believe I will get to finishing the bike this morning. None of the tasks remaining are complicated in any way. I don't even believe drilling will be needed as the bike has holes, mostly plugged for now, for any brackets. Other devices simply attach to the handlebars or seat and seat post. If it goes quickly enough, perhaps a test ride in a bit. Not too early. There is a great deal of morning traffic, people going to work, some getting off work. Then again, I'll be staying in town initially. I will get some pictures of the bike when finished, just in case it ends up mashed somehow, on the maiden voyage. Oh trust me, it could happen. I lead a charmed life.
I signed up for a class to attempt to get my conceal carry permit. It will be $35 for the class and then about $70 for state fees. I believe I will take the paperwork in, in person, and pay with cash, the next time I visit the V.A. I have an appointment coming up in a week or so. Hmm, I think I forgot to put that on my smart phone or calendar. Good thing I blog. I don't know if that department is still slow, but I had heard that paying there, in cash, sped things up. That is coming up in days!
If I do get that, I will probably begin looking around and making final plans for a small .357 mag, I'm thinking that Chief's Special, by
S&W will do nicely. But I would like to shoot it and some others, read a bit more, you know... enjoy the process. After that probably a hunting rifle (unless that Kel Tec shotgun comes available and is reasonable to actually obtain). Shotgun before rifle, then a rifle (or two). And, finally, in the more distant future, the goal would be a S&W 500 or 460. I'm still... considering. The 500 is more immediate power, the .460 takes .45 long colt, .454 cassull, as well as the .460, none a bad round (if not truly great, either, save for the .460 as an actual hunting round to a hundred yards, give or take, maybe more with scope, though if more with scope I would be okay out to 150, maybe 200 I think, stock). Then again, since I own a reloader, I could power that 500 right about down to a .45 long colt round (if I really wanted to). The only thing is the cases for the 500 would be the same no matter how I loaded it. Then again, even a .45 long colt case (for loading the bullet, powder, and primer into or in) is pretty darn scary expensive. Though you don't shoot these things like .22's either. Bah...
While the foot felt a lot better with the "donut" off the bottom, I still felt I needed something. While what was left was not exactly an open bleeding wound, it was down to the meat and open. So I put on one of my larger area band-aids, after adding some triple antibiotic cream. Yeah, that felt much better. I am not going to hike on it until it looks much better. I am going into town and will look at inserts too. Something to pad that front food pad for the most part, but fits the rest of my foot well enough. More on the left side, but it used to be both foot pads.
Oh, when I discuss "preppers" doing bogus things, I discuss things like rope bracelets. That is a good way to cut up good 'twine' (550 para cord). While it could be useful if you were dropped literally in the middle of wilderness, that isn't going to happen and it's real usefulness would be extremely limited. You had best also know to and be prepared to drink your own urine. Just saying. I see dozens of guys who have spent an inordinate amount of time making these things, and things like them. Sure, if prepping is trendy and you wish to prove something, go for it. But don't think I will think you are a survivor because you are wearing seven to ten feet of cord! Even making fast rope has limited use. If in a static place, near say a cliff, it might have some real use for escape or even weather specific lodging changes, faster routs, or such. But the sun will eat nylon cord. You did know that, right? And only 36 meters? No, come now. That is a serious waste of resources in time, money, and thought processes. This is what I am talking about when guys are blowing smoke, wasting resources, and such. If you want a good way to carry cord, simply always have a pack with you and do this to your cord. Hmm, then again, rather than heavy duty fast rope, imagine using eight 100 foot lines of 550 para like this (I suppose you would lose 1/4 to half to the length in the process, but might be a good rope?)? It also continues on to show how to splice a loop and whip-stitch the end in following videos. Hmm. Damn, I like that.
Well, that's about it. I should get on with the bike, then on into town. Hmm, brisket, I think, for lunch. Yeah, I like that stuff. Last time it was way too dry though. Then again, last time their place was flooded so they were doing the best they could, continuing to work outside. So, yeah, I will give them a bit of a pass. But they should have it down by now. Hrumph.
Waking in the middle of the night.
.
.
I have some hope of getting back to sleep before long. I have more serious doubts though. But what can you really do at midnight? Well, there are the dishes. There is laundry. I didn't get the trash out, but at only a bag a week it isn't a huge issue. Missing trash once in a while, if kept to that, is just fine. No more, as summer heat is a gnarly thing when mixed with all but paper refuse. Still, I'm... thinking.
Doh but I hate dishes. After I get this set cleaned, I may simply go in search of the best disposable dishes and flatware I can afford. Yes, yes, wasteful. I don't care about the excessive waste. At the worst of projections, waste is not a problem over at least the next hundred (thousand if we must be honest) years. And if they haven't figured out to burn it in high efficiency burners by then, let them roll in the refuse (which, all told, in a hundred years, is a very small landmass usage, even if not burned as it should be, if you believe in green, which I don't). Bah! Buggers! And broomstick wielding Dolts!
Grumpy? Yeah, maybe a wee. I must have killed half the world of warriors in my dreams. No matter how strong of a blood lust one has, sating it is never satisfying. I suppose that is why I made changes and no longer seek to fill that hunger. Oh, it's there. It craves 'just a little' though that little would only spur me on to much more. I have finally figured out how to put it in it's place and redirect the urges. If I have something that cripples me, in the mental department, it would be that when I cannot redirect blood lust purposefully I redirect the lust in a paralyzing manner. Better to be frozen stone than to be lively and deadly? Yeah, maybe. I have neither the authority nor heart for what I am good at. Perhaps I never had the heart. I certainly had the way and means otherwise. I simply had no choices, at one time. I have the scars to prove it.
Bah! Still, I do enjoy life. Women or war, friend or family, little and big, good and even bad so I know the difference. This has been an immeasurably huge experience, a wonderful one. I wouldn't have missed it. Even shame, once a bane, now a gift of consciousness I can raise as a gift to the Father, and thank Him both for being able to know shame meaning I know rightness and for His taking it from my wound like some salves extracts poison. I am finally riding that bicycle called life in a balanced manner, if I can still be lead to Grumpville when old wounds are remembered vividly.
On to... something. Never mind me. Just... The flames...
.
I have some hope of getting back to sleep before long. I have more serious doubts though. But what can you really do at midnight? Well, there are the dishes. There is laundry. I didn't get the trash out, but at only a bag a week it isn't a huge issue. Missing trash once in a while, if kept to that, is just fine. No more, as summer heat is a gnarly thing when mixed with all but paper refuse. Still, I'm... thinking.
Doh but I hate dishes. After I get this set cleaned, I may simply go in search of the best disposable dishes and flatware I can afford. Yes, yes, wasteful. I don't care about the excessive waste. At the worst of projections, waste is not a problem over at least the next hundred (thousand if we must be honest) years. And if they haven't figured out to burn it in high efficiency burners by then, let them roll in the refuse (which, all told, in a hundred years, is a very small landmass usage, even if not burned as it should be, if you believe in green, which I don't). Bah! Buggers! And broomstick wielding Dolts!
Grumpy? Yeah, maybe a wee. I must have killed half the world of warriors in my dreams. No matter how strong of a blood lust one has, sating it is never satisfying. I suppose that is why I made changes and no longer seek to fill that hunger. Oh, it's there. It craves 'just a little' though that little would only spur me on to much more. I have finally figured out how to put it in it's place and redirect the urges. If I have something that cripples me, in the mental department, it would be that when I cannot redirect blood lust purposefully I redirect the lust in a paralyzing manner. Better to be frozen stone than to be lively and deadly? Yeah, maybe. I have neither the authority nor heart for what I am good at. Perhaps I never had the heart. I certainly had the way and means otherwise. I simply had no choices, at one time. I have the scars to prove it.
Bah! Still, I do enjoy life. Women or war, friend or family, little and big, good and even bad so I know the difference. This has been an immeasurably huge experience, a wonderful one. I wouldn't have missed it. Even shame, once a bane, now a gift of consciousness I can raise as a gift to the Father, and thank Him both for being able to know shame meaning I know rightness and for His taking it from my wound like some salves extracts poison. I am finally riding that bicycle called life in a balanced manner, if I can still be lead to Grumpville when old wounds are remembered vividly.
On to... something. Never mind me. Just... The flames...
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