Incessant thirst, odd moods, persistent exhaustion, and the need for frequent urination all lead me to suspect diabetes is back. I have been drinking a bit more soda, and eating more treats. At first, my consumption was minor. As time went on, I began to drink the stuff like I used to drink it, which is way too much. The batteries in my blood tester have died, and at the time they did so I had such good blood sugar that I had not replaced them. One more thing on my list of things to do, in spite of my incapacity to do as much as I had only recently been able to do. Then again, it is only a suspicion. Perhaps my exhaustion is just seasonal, perhaps it is something I have to fight forever, but with the other things, I am taking precautions. No more soda, for a while, no sugary treats, at least what I prefer to eat primarily is sugar free. Meat, I just love fresh cooked meat, and sometimes vegetables when I can remember about them, and fruits. Fruits are becoming my new snack food, again. Yeah, I am a dork. Yes, I should have known. Hush, you…
My vacation is off. My friend lied to me, but women do that. She said she was afraid of the weather, but it is beautiful today, and will probably be fantastic tomorrow and better Sunday. She mentioned how tired she is, at first. Fine, I understand that. But, I felt like there was something she was not telling me. After the first and second time trying to get me to drop out of the thing, she admitted she wants to go to a charity dinner Saturday night. Beyond, she thought perhaps I would go with her. The charity is for local social charities, such as the homeless shelter and perhaps the food-closet for the needy. Not really something I believe in, as it has become a huge local problem, one that money does not seem to be fixing. Still, there are times I do things for the company, people involved, and such, things I would not otherwise do. However, though she is on a positive for this, the fact that is will be held by and in one of the churches which I felt compelled to leave, and so worry about social difficulties, I had to decline. I just do not believe in any of the social programs, which they have used to replace their Christian faith. As freaky as I might be, I understand and reject the oddities of my life. I understand God does not reject me for any eccentricities, but He has a preference how we deal with the oddities that exist in a fallen world. Some do not understand, perhaps they cannot, perhaps they will not. All I know is that I am not among them. In this case, God said “No”, and I realized the Catholic Church has it, inherently, if there are problems. Paul was working on that from the start, and if still alive, would still be working on it. That has passed to his successor(s).
Well, I will not complain greatly about the change of plans. I really am exhausted. I really am hoping by changing my behavior, I might be able to get to work on the class material. I could also get some housecleaning finished. Oh, my landlord called today. I had informed him that the sheriff’s department had left a note wanting to contact my former neighbor (go figure). Though, by the looks of it, it is just the sheriff trying to serve court papers regarding debt. I had a cousin living with me, who ended up with such difficulties. He decided to drop by today, to check on the other apartment (and tinker, I think he likes working there, now that he is retired), and to thank me for letting him know. He missed me, though, as I was napping, so he called this afternoon. He called both to thank me for passing on the information, but more, for keeping the drive and walk so clean. Yeah, this is a new thing. I am getting better, and it shows, I guess.
Friday, February 8, 2008
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Now I have worked, alas I am both out of beer and grounded from it anyway. (Day 31)
When I went to survey the snow removal task while I checked the mail, I realized I was in a heap of trouble. Across my double wide drive stood a 12’ x 5’ road/snow grader leaving. It was between 1’ and 2’ across at the top, he must have been by several times. The material had been slush and snow, now it was ice, and it could support my 300 pounds. There were chunks I could not break apart and had to lift and toss, like logs or boulders and of some significant size. Ok, I must be old. It took three times at the pile to get it down and out, with an hour or two break between shifts. At least, after the final shift, I was able to just use the snow blower on the sidewalk and the rest of my drive without a rest. All my neighbors had their work done. I can only imagine this is one time they really would have liked if I had gotten to it all quickly. I did not realize it was there until around 1:30 or so this morning.
I am really beating myself up on this snow. Perhaps that is why I am so tired. I have started drinking a lot more plain water, I have been thirsty as the devil and nothing seems to quench that thirst. All the work has probably been dehydrating me, and soda, coffee, and milk will not quite fill that void, soda and coffee hurt the situation. I have consumed about 3 gallons of water these last two days, and mostly avoided soda and coffee. Milk and orange juice has also been in the line-up, as at least it does not feel like those dehydrate me. Actually, I am finding that winter wear, with heavy labor close to home, is not at all necessary. Still, I wear it like a lumberjack or something, sometimes. Whether it is -9 F, 21 F, or 36 F, heavy work makes life easy. I am not sure how long that would last, and I am pretty sure without a close warm shelter, cooling down while in a rest period could be severe if not done correctly (as I already knew). Still, it is fun for play, and probably will be very useful for sport and extended winter events.
I think I will reward myself though. A hearty breakfast out would be good. There is a new Ihop in my area. Though I think I prefer Perkins, I think there is only one sure way to know. I get to feed my gullet and avoid messing up the already pretty messy kitchen, try a new place, and feel good about it all. Plus, maybe it will give me some energy to tear into the homework and maybe alternately clean the kitchen when that gets too tight. Nice, a workable plan.
I have developed a plan for the gas, fill the machine up after every use and as I put it away. I will then know to get gas before I am completely out. Sure, yeah, I suppose some of you know this from your own work with the lawn or snow blowing. I am a relative newbie to this sort of thing. The little pieces are what add together to produce a well rounded socially and mechanically fit adult man. Broken or not, that is what I am trying to become. Perhaps in the effort I will become, perhaps it is just the doing, or, maybe something has changed and I now can do what is needed, if in small bits still and so far. I do note, regardless, I can still disappoint myself sorely.
Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.
I am really beating myself up on this snow. Perhaps that is why I am so tired. I have started drinking a lot more plain water, I have been thirsty as the devil and nothing seems to quench that thirst. All the work has probably been dehydrating me, and soda, coffee, and milk will not quite fill that void, soda and coffee hurt the situation. I have consumed about 3 gallons of water these last two days, and mostly avoided soda and coffee. Milk and orange juice has also been in the line-up, as at least it does not feel like those dehydrate me. Actually, I am finding that winter wear, with heavy labor close to home, is not at all necessary. Still, I wear it like a lumberjack or something, sometimes. Whether it is -9 F, 21 F, or 36 F, heavy work makes life easy. I am not sure how long that would last, and I am pretty sure without a close warm shelter, cooling down while in a rest period could be severe if not done correctly (as I already knew). Still, it is fun for play, and probably will be very useful for sport and extended winter events.
I think I will reward myself though. A hearty breakfast out would be good. There is a new Ihop in my area. Though I think I prefer Perkins, I think there is only one sure way to know. I get to feed my gullet and avoid messing up the already pretty messy kitchen, try a new place, and feel good about it all. Plus, maybe it will give me some energy to tear into the homework and maybe alternately clean the kitchen when that gets too tight. Nice, a workable plan.
I have developed a plan for the gas, fill the machine up after every use and as I put it away. I will then know to get gas before I am completely out. Sure, yeah, I suppose some of you know this from your own work with the lawn or snow blowing. I am a relative newbie to this sort of thing. The little pieces are what add together to produce a well rounded socially and mechanically fit adult man. Broken or not, that is what I am trying to become. Perhaps in the effort I will become, perhaps it is just the doing, or, maybe something has changed and I now can do what is needed, if in small bits still and so far. I do note, regardless, I can still disappoint myself sorely.
Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.
Wow, what was in that beer?
I have looked around the web. I may actually quit blogging after this one. I went WAY overboard. This is more than embarrassing. I really did only drink 10 beers, if I drank them… well, very fast. I probably had the first 6 down in 10 minutes, the rest in about another half hour. After that, I just coasted. I cannot believe I said some of what I said, and, I cannot remember saying it. I have become a lightweight, and a horrible one. I keep stumbling over little piles of stupid, and I am just amazed I was such an idiot. For shame! Really. I am thinking about whether to quit blogging, or not.
Oh, and, I was wrong. I do not believe much of what I said. I am not even sure I understand half of what I said. Though, after I blush while reading, I am not sure making sense out of it is necessarily possible. Wow, I do not understand how this happened. Really, I try to be a decent guy. Could I get that confused, mean, or stupid that easily?
Oh, and, I was wrong. I do not believe much of what I said. I am not even sure I understand half of what I said. Though, after I blush while reading, I am not sure making sense out of it is necessarily possible. Wow, I do not understand how this happened. Really, I try to be a decent guy. Could I get that confused, mean, or stupid that easily?
More snow on the ground.
I could have gotten out earlier and blown the snow off, but it had not quite stopped the last time I looked. It seems to have stopped at this point, and it probably stopped shortly after I checked, given that it appears no real accumulation occurred between then and now. I must admit to be becoming a bit tired of removing the stuff. Once a week, fine. Three, four, and fives days a week, even several times each day on several of those days to boot, gets a bit old. If I have to do it, though, I feel pleased that I can help out some of the neighborhood. I have the time, and I have always enjoyed helping others out, I just finally have enough on the ball to get out and do so. Oh, I ended up sipping three beers. It really was quite nice.
I received an email from my teacher. It seems classes were called off moments after I sent my email. In spite of checking the colleges webpage, I saw nothing indicating this had been done. I am a bit miffed at the school about this. I suppose I will get over it, perhaps even survive and flourish. I am pretty sure we will get through the material, what could they do otherwise (without a refund anyway)? Still, with this many lost days, and so far, it has actually been difficult to stay on track. Reading ahead is asking for a punch in the nose and mucho confusion. Huh? Yeah, that, exactly. What? Okay, I will stop that.
I have been spending 12 hours or more blowing snow this week, so I have not messed with skiing. Skiing has several interests, in part as an exercise activity, in part to test cold weather gear, in part as a skill I wish to master for real world use. Though, of course, I learn nothing about skiing by not doing, I do get the other two managed. As well, when I tell a teacher I do not wish to risk driving, I mean it. School IS a joy for me, mostly. So, risking the roads to ski just has not been a priority. It is not completely the icy conditions, or potential for ice, though those are considerations, it is mostly the idiots who think front wheel drive vehicles are good enough for the conditions (often while talking away on a cell phone!). I really have not seen four wheel drive vehicles out being macho, I have seen subcompacts trying to prove they are equal to my vehicle. And worse, I have seen sports cars out “having fun”. Idiots, I pretty much put my Camaro SS up for the winter, it is absolutely useless and very dangerous to me and everyone else on the road. There is no driving slow enough with it (though I miss it dearly, I wish I could have kept it for summer fun).
Just a tip, if you see a vehicle that weighs three times what your vehicle weighs, it is geared for four wheel drive and obviously well suited to that, and it has wheels that are obviously superb on snow, do not push that vehicle by riding his bumper, idiot. If I am going 25 in a 40, it is for a reason. For one thing, I would love to have a better than stock bumper, and should I be a little… unhappy, you will end up buying it for me. And, really, it probably will just be paint you bother on my vehicle (good enough to get me a new bumper though), while your car and insurance will be a real mess. Plus, you might end up buying me a top grade (steel) under-shielding, solid rock-crawling suv skis, that bumper, and maybe a little vacation somewhere, like a wild ski/hunt/camp week in Colorado, Utah, Alaska, or somewhere away from your ilk. Can you say… “Ouch, my neck!”? Just a thought, friend. Too bad I actually have a conscience. Life could be so easy, without even trying because so many people are stupid that being there when they are is half the trick, or more.
The Nag called again. She is afraid of the weather, and is thinking she will not go. She believes I can get my money back with a 24 hour notice of cancellation (fine, so she called my bluff. I told her they said 1 week notice to receive a refund, in spite of not having been told any such thing and suspecting 24 hours myself, mostly to get her to just be quiet until it was a little closer, or sure, weatherwise. Sorry, but I feel the need to treat her like a kid sometimes). Anyway, I finally just tapped it out, I am going whether she goes or not, if the weather is even decent and probably going to remain that way for a full 24 to 36 hours. Actually, that, I think, worked. And really, if she is tired, she can check the one or two things she really wants to know, and I can have fun on my own, while she goes back and sleeps. I miss her, and dearly, but only when she is gone. Lulz
I received an email from my teacher. It seems classes were called off moments after I sent my email. In spite of checking the colleges webpage, I saw nothing indicating this had been done. I am a bit miffed at the school about this. I suppose I will get over it, perhaps even survive and flourish. I am pretty sure we will get through the material, what could they do otherwise (without a refund anyway)? Still, with this many lost days, and so far, it has actually been difficult to stay on track. Reading ahead is asking for a punch in the nose and mucho confusion. Huh? Yeah, that, exactly. What? Okay, I will stop that.
I have been spending 12 hours or more blowing snow this week, so I have not messed with skiing. Skiing has several interests, in part as an exercise activity, in part to test cold weather gear, in part as a skill I wish to master for real world use. Though, of course, I learn nothing about skiing by not doing, I do get the other two managed. As well, when I tell a teacher I do not wish to risk driving, I mean it. School IS a joy for me, mostly. So, risking the roads to ski just has not been a priority. It is not completely the icy conditions, or potential for ice, though those are considerations, it is mostly the idiots who think front wheel drive vehicles are good enough for the conditions (often while talking away on a cell phone!). I really have not seen four wheel drive vehicles out being macho, I have seen subcompacts trying to prove they are equal to my vehicle. And worse, I have seen sports cars out “having fun”. Idiots, I pretty much put my Camaro SS up for the winter, it is absolutely useless and very dangerous to me and everyone else on the road. There is no driving slow enough with it (though I miss it dearly, I wish I could have kept it for summer fun).
Just a tip, if you see a vehicle that weighs three times what your vehicle weighs, it is geared for four wheel drive and obviously well suited to that, and it has wheels that are obviously superb on snow, do not push that vehicle by riding his bumper, idiot. If I am going 25 in a 40, it is for a reason. For one thing, I would love to have a better than stock bumper, and should I be a little… unhappy, you will end up buying it for me. And, really, it probably will just be paint you bother on my vehicle (good enough to get me a new bumper though), while your car and insurance will be a real mess. Plus, you might end up buying me a top grade (steel) under-shielding, solid rock-crawling suv skis, that bumper, and maybe a little vacation somewhere, like a wild ski/hunt/camp week in Colorado, Utah, Alaska, or somewhere away from your ilk. Can you say… “Ouch, my neck!”? Just a thought, friend. Too bad I actually have a conscience. Life could be so easy, without even trying because so many people are stupid that being there when they are is half the trick, or more.
The Nag called again. She is afraid of the weather, and is thinking she will not go. She believes I can get my money back with a 24 hour notice of cancellation (fine, so she called my bluff. I told her they said 1 week notice to receive a refund, in spite of not having been told any such thing and suspecting 24 hours myself, mostly to get her to just be quiet until it was a little closer, or sure, weatherwise. Sorry, but I feel the need to treat her like a kid sometimes). Anyway, I finally just tapped it out, I am going whether she goes or not, if the weather is even decent and probably going to remain that way for a full 24 to 36 hours. Actually, that, I think, worked. And really, if she is tired, she can check the one or two things she really wants to know, and I can have fun on my own, while she goes back and sleeps. I miss her, and dearly, but only when she is gone. Lulz
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Two more snow clearings since last I wrote. (Day 30)
Between the snow and rain yesterday, and the snow today, there is a mess to deal with. I shoveled last night, shoveling since it was late when I finally got around to doing anything (as it seemed to stop and I had hoped to get some of it done, plus I wanted to leave without tracking through snow). Oh well, by the time I made it to the grocery store, then had a breakfast, snow had started falling again, and so heavy that it was as if I had not shoveled. Oh well, it was good to get out, and I really needed what I bought.
My lady friend had thought to cancel our weekend event. She had heard that we were to have snow from now to 9 or 10 days out. I just happened to be looking at one of my three online weather sites, so I suggested she allow me to check. No, she had to go, but wondered if I could check and call back. Done, no snow at least three days before our departure date, and then a light snow at that. So, I called back and let her know if she just does not wish to go, that would be fine too. It seems it was just the incorrect weather reports (gossip) she had heard. So, the thing is on.
It rained, yesterday, before class. Then it snowed. Hovering at freezing, the weather was just too much of a stretch. I have a 4x4, but I see no reason to drive on ice, or even risk it. So, I emailed my instructor several hours before class and just explained that I would not be to school. I have heard nothing back, so I am not sure if I am in trouble or not.
Oh, at Bane’s, I keep having a difficulty when I hear women being touted as combatants. He asked why, and I really had to think about it. Up to this point, it has just been a knee-jerk reaction, literally pretty much. I did not really want to look at it, but went ahead and thought about it. I think there are three primaries with a minor thing that tugs me to react so staunchly. The first is that, at 10 or 11, 5’11” and a little over a hundred pounds, I had had enough of beatings from my mother. She, at the time, was 5’11” and 160 (at least, overweight but strong for a woman, having been a farm girl). When she finished that one, I turned around and told her if she tried to do that again, I would take her down, and meant it. So foolish was this, and probably many, women, that I knew it was bound to happen. So, as an 11 year old, I had to be the man of the house, and get myself into a foster home. And, yes, she probably did deserve it. Second, after watching my Mom get smacked down like a child by my adoptive father, I have no doubt about things. He was not a fighter, he had nothing that made him any different from any other normal guy, and my mother was a farm girl, a tough one, definitely a bit of a tom boy too. Next is that, though I always have kept myself in line, if some woman is stupid enough to punch me, I will show her why she should never ever do that. I have rage from many sources. Having to put up with women is not a small one. Especially when women actually think they are anything like my equal. I just think it a great folly to try and get women to think they have any chance at real combat equality. Oh, last, the extra. I have a cousin who decided to go into wrestling. I am quite sure they put her on hormones, testosterone or hgh, maybe both. She was able to compete, dosed up so much she looked like a boy, though she ended up tearing out a shoulder joint after only a few years of this (now she, again, looks more like her Mom than her Dad). Anyway, when she got married, she tried to compete with her husband, a cop. Guess what, she lost her ass, probably literally. Ok, having said that, I will no longer comment at Bane’s about this. I am pretty sure I have taken care of my part of my problem, or at least I have identified the problems. Well, he did ask, and… I did not know until I thought about it.
Oh, I am not sure I have seen every comment I made. But I have seen quite a few. I think next time I will disassemble my access to the internet next time! How embarrassing, how rude, how crude, I have no defense. If it means anything, it was great fun, I think… I was adding salt to my beer, I was very thirsty, 10 beers went down in 2 hours or less, I think. I am glad I forgot I have fine whiskey, fine gin, fine vodka, and superb scotch.
Update:
It is snowing so fast, I cannot keep up with the snow blower. I did much of what I usually do, clearing one neighbors whole drive (their vehicle was gone), and part of the other neighbor’s driveway, plus quite a bit of sidewalk. However, as I was finishing my drive, a neighbor to my north about 3 houses came by and asked how much. At first, I thought… this guy must be stoned, he has to see I have a monster snow blower. Now, I figured he meant the other way, but I thought it best to just let him speak his peace. It ends up he needed my help. He was doing his place, by hand. The snow was too heavy (wet) for his snow blower. This was fine, but there was a problem, he needed to take care of his Mother’s drive, and he had to be to work soon. Never a problem, really. Someone is taking care of my Mother’s snow removal, I consider this a type of return. He insists on offering me money, much to my chagrin, but I end up taking it (I had little choice). Well, I will use the money for gas. He says he is a griller too, and promised to take care of me this summer. Heck, I can do that. I had been hoping to get something like a street party, but I did not know any of the black guys. Yeah, it is difficult, for me, to reach out. So, we will see this summer.
Well, I think I will have a beer or two. No worries, that is all I have, and it is all I am interested in having. Okay, maybe 4 beers. Oh, well, at least I did not have a hangover last time. Beer usually will not give me one though, even if I drink a case (unless I then drink some hard stuff too, on top of it). After working, and with 8 inches on the ground for a good part of that work, it was harder work this time, beer is a great treat.
My lady friend had thought to cancel our weekend event. She had heard that we were to have snow from now to 9 or 10 days out. I just happened to be looking at one of my three online weather sites, so I suggested she allow me to check. No, she had to go, but wondered if I could check and call back. Done, no snow at least three days before our departure date, and then a light snow at that. So, I called back and let her know if she just does not wish to go, that would be fine too. It seems it was just the incorrect weather reports (gossip) she had heard. So, the thing is on.
It rained, yesterday, before class. Then it snowed. Hovering at freezing, the weather was just too much of a stretch. I have a 4x4, but I see no reason to drive on ice, or even risk it. So, I emailed my instructor several hours before class and just explained that I would not be to school. I have heard nothing back, so I am not sure if I am in trouble or not.
Oh, at Bane’s, I keep having a difficulty when I hear women being touted as combatants. He asked why, and I really had to think about it. Up to this point, it has just been a knee-jerk reaction, literally pretty much. I did not really want to look at it, but went ahead and thought about it. I think there are three primaries with a minor thing that tugs me to react so staunchly. The first is that, at 10 or 11, 5’11” and a little over a hundred pounds, I had had enough of beatings from my mother. She, at the time, was 5’11” and 160 (at least, overweight but strong for a woman, having been a farm girl). When she finished that one, I turned around and told her if she tried to do that again, I would take her down, and meant it. So foolish was this, and probably many, women, that I knew it was bound to happen. So, as an 11 year old, I had to be the man of the house, and get myself into a foster home. And, yes, she probably did deserve it. Second, after watching my Mom get smacked down like a child by my adoptive father, I have no doubt about things. He was not a fighter, he had nothing that made him any different from any other normal guy, and my mother was a farm girl, a tough one, definitely a bit of a tom boy too. Next is that, though I always have kept myself in line, if some woman is stupid enough to punch me, I will show her why she should never ever do that. I have rage from many sources. Having to put up with women is not a small one. Especially when women actually think they are anything like my equal. I just think it a great folly to try and get women to think they have any chance at real combat equality. Oh, last, the extra. I have a cousin who decided to go into wrestling. I am quite sure they put her on hormones, testosterone or hgh, maybe both. She was able to compete, dosed up so much she looked like a boy, though she ended up tearing out a shoulder joint after only a few years of this (now she, again, looks more like her Mom than her Dad). Anyway, when she got married, she tried to compete with her husband, a cop. Guess what, she lost her ass, probably literally. Ok, having said that, I will no longer comment at Bane’s about this. I am pretty sure I have taken care of my part of my problem, or at least I have identified the problems. Well, he did ask, and… I did not know until I thought about it.
Oh, I am not sure I have seen every comment I made. But I have seen quite a few. I think next time I will disassemble my access to the internet next time! How embarrassing, how rude, how crude, I have no defense. If it means anything, it was great fun, I think… I was adding salt to my beer, I was very thirsty, 10 beers went down in 2 hours or less, I think. I am glad I forgot I have fine whiskey, fine gin, fine vodka, and superb scotch.
Update:
It is snowing so fast, I cannot keep up with the snow blower. I did much of what I usually do, clearing one neighbors whole drive (their vehicle was gone), and part of the other neighbor’s driveway, plus quite a bit of sidewalk. However, as I was finishing my drive, a neighbor to my north about 3 houses came by and asked how much. At first, I thought… this guy must be stoned, he has to see I have a monster snow blower. Now, I figured he meant the other way, but I thought it best to just let him speak his peace. It ends up he needed my help. He was doing his place, by hand. The snow was too heavy (wet) for his snow blower. This was fine, but there was a problem, he needed to take care of his Mother’s drive, and he had to be to work soon. Never a problem, really. Someone is taking care of my Mother’s snow removal, I consider this a type of return. He insists on offering me money, much to my chagrin, but I end up taking it (I had little choice). Well, I will use the money for gas. He says he is a griller too, and promised to take care of me this summer. Heck, I can do that. I had been hoping to get something like a street party, but I did not know any of the black guys. Yeah, it is difficult, for me, to reach out. So, we will see this summer.
Well, I think I will have a beer or two. No worries, that is all I have, and it is all I am interested in having. Okay, maybe 4 beers. Oh, well, at least I did not have a hangover last time. Beer usually will not give me one though, even if I drink a case (unless I then drink some hard stuff too, on top of it). After working, and with 8 inches on the ground for a good part of that work, it was harder work this time, beer is a great treat.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Oh-oh, somebody got smashed last night. (Day 29)
I did not mean to do so. I could not wake up, all the way. I could not rest, I had just slept 17 hours or something, if not back to back. I was stuck. Like if I have a bowel blockage, I took a laxative aimed at the particular blockage. In this case, it was a mental blockage, so beer seemed the correct medicine. Now, I did not intend to drink 10 beers. The bar keep kept bringing them. I tipped well in food and blogging, I think? Well, I did finally get to sleep. For those of you who are about to jump me, go ahead. I will take my dues, if it is correct.
I have read some of what I wrote… Okay, only two so far. Generally, and so far, I think I agree with what I wrote, though I did cuss, not something I normally do, nor something I appreciate here there or anywhere. Why have I only looked at two? Well, I do not remember where all I left my little eggs of pooh. Like I said, your unhappiness, to a point, is my unhappiness. I will take my right dues.
I have read some of what I wrote… Okay, only two so far. Generally, and so far, I think I agree with what I wrote, though I did cuss, not something I normally do, nor something I appreciate here there or anywhere. Why have I only looked at two? Well, I do not remember where all I left my little eggs of pooh. Like I said, your unhappiness, to a point, is my unhappiness. I will take my right dues.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Is seven hours of sleep still a nap?
Yeah, ok, I probably agree. That was no nap. What is worse, I am still tired. I have spent the last four hours trying to more fully wake up, to no avail. I may end up just going back to bed. I am not sure if I dreamed, though I suspect I did. I, of course, have done nothing else on my list. I cannot even get to homework. Bed time again, I believe.
Not bad for a gimp.
I have been doing well, in spite of not even feeling like doing much. I have not quite become elite, except perhaps in the world of gimp Olympics. Oh, quit whining, I will get to you next. Despite the rough start, again, this morning, I was able to get my morning activities carried out, wake up smoothly, and then make a bit of a plan for the day. More, I have implemented some of what I had planned to do, and a few extra items, if the original list is not complete.
Snow removal was a first, and I was a little desperate to get it done. With the rain coming in on top of what seems to be another 6 inches or more of snow, I was worried about the gunk freezing into ice concrete. I was able to get my and my neighbor's areas taken care of in this regard. The slush was messy to work with, and slowed the process quite a bit with the depth added to the moisture content. After that, I headed to the store and picked up a few items, and more, on my list. Then I grabbed a McDonalds meal. I just am in no mood to cook, and the kitchen needs cleaned first anyway. Instead of taking the groceries and lunch in and eating right then, as I had planned, I decided to widen the path through the snow in my driveway. That was quite a chore. I had let it slide, and over time, it was becoming difficult to back out unless I did it just right. So, I grab the shovel and dig. Then I dig, dig, and then dig some more. I had been quite lazy, and the snow had piled to at least 4 foot over the areas, on each side of the drive, I meant to clear. And, land length, there was probably 6 feet of the right side and 3 feet on the left side, plus I wanted to bank it a bit, the snow that I was scooping out. McDonalds not only tasted good after I finished, I felt vindicated in the calorie dump.
I still have a few things to do. I really want to pick up the skis, I would like to get Rocky some more pals, I plan on working on homework, and of course I would like to post on my blog. Or, not. We will see. Doh! I swear you have no sense of my humor. I will probably get most of my wants and needs met. I will also probably find an extra thing or two to do (like refilling some water jugs, I only drink bottled water, a trifle at 24 cents per gallon plus the seeming link to the past when people would go to the well for their water). And, I might even get in a nap. I can hardly believe it is only 11:50 though, plenty of time.
Oh, nap. I think I heard the word, or someone wrote it, or is it just a symbol permanently stamped under my eyelids. Hmm, I think I will go ponder this.
Snow removal was a first, and I was a little desperate to get it done. With the rain coming in on top of what seems to be another 6 inches or more of snow, I was worried about the gunk freezing into ice concrete. I was able to get my and my neighbor's areas taken care of in this regard. The slush was messy to work with, and slowed the process quite a bit with the depth added to the moisture content. After that, I headed to the store and picked up a few items, and more, on my list. Then I grabbed a McDonalds meal. I just am in no mood to cook, and the kitchen needs cleaned first anyway. Instead of taking the groceries and lunch in and eating right then, as I had planned, I decided to widen the path through the snow in my driveway. That was quite a chore. I had let it slide, and over time, it was becoming difficult to back out unless I did it just right. So, I grab the shovel and dig. Then I dig, dig, and then dig some more. I had been quite lazy, and the snow had piled to at least 4 foot over the areas, on each side of the drive, I meant to clear. And, land length, there was probably 6 feet of the right side and 3 feet on the left side, plus I wanted to bank it a bit, the snow that I was scooping out. McDonalds not only tasted good after I finished, I felt vindicated in the calorie dump.
I still have a few things to do. I really want to pick up the skis, I would like to get Rocky some more pals, I plan on working on homework, and of course I would like to post on my blog. Or, not. We will see. Doh! I swear you have no sense of my humor. I will probably get most of my wants and needs met. I will also probably find an extra thing or two to do (like refilling some water jugs, I only drink bottled water, a trifle at 24 cents per gallon plus the seeming link to the past when people would go to the well for their water). And, I might even get in a nap. I can hardly believe it is only 11:50 though, plenty of time.
Oh, nap. I think I heard the word, or someone wrote it, or is it just a symbol permanently stamped under my eyelids. Hmm, I think I will go ponder this.
Four Weeks and a tough start this morning.
Wow, I have made it tobacco free for 4 weeks as of this morning. Not a pipe, cigar, chaw, or cigarette. It has not been easy. It has been difficult, nerve wracking, and something I have had to concentrate on while needing somehow to also ignore! It is still difficult. I do not fear, as much, restarting my usage. That is not the problem. The problem is that I still feel tough. I still have not ridded myself of the withdrawals. I am a bit amazed. I swear, the first time I did this (for three months, about 6 or 7 years ago), I was better at this point. Oh well, on I go. Though I will not make the same mistake I made last time, that is, staying with my mother for a month. That undid me, as she chain smokes.
I went to sleep right after I posted that last post yesterday. I was absolutely shot. I do not even remember making it to bed, only waking at about 1:00 to use the restroom, which I had been too tired to remember to do before going to bed. Too tired to even think about staying up, I went back to bed. Then, at about 4:30, I woke up in pain that most people would have difficulty dealing with. My right leg, from toes to upper thigh, was a complete charlie horse. I could not feel the difference between bone and muscle. The whole leg was in spasm, my joints at the knee, ankle, and even toes, plus the bones in my feet, were twisted out of shape in an attempt to find ease from the spasms. I forced my mind to relax, and found a quietude of nature. It was not easy to maintain, with beads of sweat popping out on my forehead, back, and chest at least, in spite of the chill of morning. After massaging, manipulating, trying to warm, and doing everything I could for about a half an hour, I finally, through increased pain, pulled a wool sock onto the foot somehow, and then just pulled from my flesh as it tried to recover. After another 10 minutes or so, it became safe to rejoin my corpse. Well, like a bad dream, it has past. Though my joints and foot bones hurt a bit, and the muscles seem to be a bit sore for the event.
Hmm, I better check outside. I swear I just heard thunder, and believe I saw flashes of lighting. I hope we do NOT get rain. There is no real place for it to go and on top of the snow, it is the only winter weather I truly despise.
I went to sleep right after I posted that last post yesterday. I was absolutely shot. I do not even remember making it to bed, only waking at about 1:00 to use the restroom, which I had been too tired to remember to do before going to bed. Too tired to even think about staying up, I went back to bed. Then, at about 4:30, I woke up in pain that most people would have difficulty dealing with. My right leg, from toes to upper thigh, was a complete charlie horse. I could not feel the difference between bone and muscle. The whole leg was in spasm, my joints at the knee, ankle, and even toes, plus the bones in my feet, were twisted out of shape in an attempt to find ease from the spasms. I forced my mind to relax, and found a quietude of nature. It was not easy to maintain, with beads of sweat popping out on my forehead, back, and chest at least, in spite of the chill of morning. After massaging, manipulating, trying to warm, and doing everything I could for about a half an hour, I finally, through increased pain, pulled a wool sock onto the foot somehow, and then just pulled from my flesh as it tried to recover. After another 10 minutes or so, it became safe to rejoin my corpse. Well, like a bad dream, it has past. Though my joints and foot bones hurt a bit, and the muscles seem to be a bit sore for the event.
Hmm, I better check outside. I swear I just heard thunder, and believe I saw flashes of lighting. I hope we do NOT get rain. There is no real place for it to go and on top of the snow, it is the only winter weather I truly despise.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Not bad, not at all bad.
I was able to stay awake all day. I was quite tempted to return to bed at about 13:00. The church meeting was coming up, and though I was really tired, I had to try and make it. I have not missed a meeting yet, if I was tardy. I am working very hard to be a man of my word, what do I have to lose but a little sleep I will be getting soon enough anyway? I get in the shower, then drive to McDonalds for a quick small meal, then make it to the meeting in plenty of time. I forgot my daily missal though. I am hoping a Sister who oversees some of the affairs of our group will show me how to use it. Next time, if I remember then? After making sure the group would go on, I started some coffee. The Sister had asked that I do this from now on, and seeing as I enjoy a cup of coffee flavored coffee now and again (thanks Billiam, seriously, he hooked me up to coffee flavored coffee, if with a little help from his friends), I also enjoy making the brew for the others and myself.
The meeting ends up being short as the weather has turned sour, we find ourselves in the middle of a snow storm. I cannot swear to the amount of snow, but all said and done, I would guess we received at least 3 inches of the white fluff by the time I get home, an hour and a half from when the snow started. After returning home at 16:00 or so, I start the snow blower and hit the circuit. I do the usual three driveways, and a goodly length of sidewalk in all directions. I then retire to my cave to await the dinner hour. Goofing on the computer and just trying to stay awake, actually.
At 18:00, the appointed time for the meal, I dress and walk over to the neighbors. I go around the back of my garage, as in the interim between removing snow, waiting, and then leaving again, a great deal more snow has fallen. I do not have time to take care of icy snowprints from my boots, so I take that back way. I feel bad about leaving tracks at the neighbors (and my freshly cleared then refilled work), so I grab their shovel and clear a simple path, again but by hand this time. I then knock and am invited in.
It is always pleasant to visit that family. Conversation is good, and usually I am not too offensive. It is sort of like this blog though. I probably seem more offensive online, in this blog, because there is no context for the reader. There is no clue as to when I am in a rage, laughing at you, them, or myself, of just tweaking your trim feathers. My lack of social graces can break the silence like a chainsaw. They are quite gracious, and I hope, take things I say which might seem offensive with grains of salt and fair rebuttal or query. The conversation winds around from politics to books, music, to their family, and all of the little bits of life which we remember and care to share. Of course, without other affairs, these conversations could meander through nearly all things and for days. This is a great pleasure, and I do believe it is mutual.
Dinner is placed on the table as we finish our first rounds of conversation, and what a dinner! I am not sure what the main course would be named, only that it really was a mixed seafood and cheese treat. The fish was done perfectly, the scallops done just right, and the blend of all the ingredients was very good. Then there was a green bean salad, with chunks of cheese, a spice and oil blend, and small halved tomatoes. The salad had the added benefit of being spring like, thus a treat. Then a serving of fresh cut pineapple and bananas was served, again, hearkening to warmer times, pleasantly. For a final treat, we were offered a chocolate fondue setting, with finger graham type crackers, marshmallows, and bananas. We were given wooden skewers to poke and dip the various treats in the chocolate. Then an interesting accident occurred, by which the pineapple became dipped in chocolate, reinvigorating interest in the game, and so another round of gorging ensued. All the while, conversation was passed and parsed. Thoughts flowed, and each had their turn to add to a discussion, change the direction of the talk, or just listen. Quite pleasant, it was, in spite of my being totally exhausted. I just hope I did not let on, or that they thought I was less than chipper for any reason other than just being very tired.
A few things done, and enjoyed. A day awake, well past what I might have thought possible. Even a decent amount of snow blowing, not bad. I will have to blow the snow again tomorrow, in the two hours between returning home and visiting the neighbors for their dinner invitation, it snowed about 3 more inches, at least. I can say I have a reason to get going tomorrow. They need me. Ha Oh, I know this is not great writing, but it is as much as I can muster this moment. I just felt impelled to spit out the last of my day, as I gasp for sleep.
Good night.
The meeting ends up being short as the weather has turned sour, we find ourselves in the middle of a snow storm. I cannot swear to the amount of snow, but all said and done, I would guess we received at least 3 inches of the white fluff by the time I get home, an hour and a half from when the snow started. After returning home at 16:00 or so, I start the snow blower and hit the circuit. I do the usual three driveways, and a goodly length of sidewalk in all directions. I then retire to my cave to await the dinner hour. Goofing on the computer and just trying to stay awake, actually.
At 18:00, the appointed time for the meal, I dress and walk over to the neighbors. I go around the back of my garage, as in the interim between removing snow, waiting, and then leaving again, a great deal more snow has fallen. I do not have time to take care of icy snowprints from my boots, so I take that back way. I feel bad about leaving tracks at the neighbors (and my freshly cleared then refilled work), so I grab their shovel and clear a simple path, again but by hand this time. I then knock and am invited in.
It is always pleasant to visit that family. Conversation is good, and usually I am not too offensive. It is sort of like this blog though. I probably seem more offensive online, in this blog, because there is no context for the reader. There is no clue as to when I am in a rage, laughing at you, them, or myself, of just tweaking your trim feathers. My lack of social graces can break the silence like a chainsaw. They are quite gracious, and I hope, take things I say which might seem offensive with grains of salt and fair rebuttal or query. The conversation winds around from politics to books, music, to their family, and all of the little bits of life which we remember and care to share. Of course, without other affairs, these conversations could meander through nearly all things and for days. This is a great pleasure, and I do believe it is mutual.
Dinner is placed on the table as we finish our first rounds of conversation, and what a dinner! I am not sure what the main course would be named, only that it really was a mixed seafood and cheese treat. The fish was done perfectly, the scallops done just right, and the blend of all the ingredients was very good. Then there was a green bean salad, with chunks of cheese, a spice and oil blend, and small halved tomatoes. The salad had the added benefit of being spring like, thus a treat. Then a serving of fresh cut pineapple and bananas was served, again, hearkening to warmer times, pleasantly. For a final treat, we were offered a chocolate fondue setting, with finger graham type crackers, marshmallows, and bananas. We were given wooden skewers to poke and dip the various treats in the chocolate. Then an interesting accident occurred, by which the pineapple became dipped in chocolate, reinvigorating interest in the game, and so another round of gorging ensued. All the while, conversation was passed and parsed. Thoughts flowed, and each had their turn to add to a discussion, change the direction of the talk, or just listen. Quite pleasant, it was, in spite of my being totally exhausted. I just hope I did not let on, or that they thought I was less than chipper for any reason other than just being very tired.
A few things done, and enjoyed. A day awake, well past what I might have thought possible. Even a decent amount of snow blowing, not bad. I will have to blow the snow again tomorrow, in the two hours between returning home and visiting the neighbors for their dinner invitation, it snowed about 3 more inches, at least. I can say I have a reason to get going tomorrow. They need me. Ha Oh, I know this is not great writing, but it is as much as I can muster this moment. I just felt impelled to spit out the last of my day, as I gasp for sleep.
Good night.
Bhutto, a Little Dose of Reality:
A Dose Not Seen Since WWII
I could write a book about this, but why? Too few could see the irony. Too many have no idea how nuanced this thing is, too funny. Still, I will play out a few of my thoughts. Debate though? Proof? No, like modern science, often by the time something has been proven, it has been simplified beyond the point of functional reality and outside of true reason. So, I will not bother with such things.
Bhutto, a woman politician from a troubled nation. A politician who had been exiled because of her corruption, among other things. A politician, who to my understanding, was a socialist, perhaps communist, probably more dependent upon who she could talk into supporting her corruption. A woman, who at our suggestion yet without any support, returned home (sounds almost like we had her arm bent clean up to the breaking point to get her there). Not only that, I would guess we influenced her nation's supreme court in order for her return to even be allowed, seemingly over the objections of the nations president.
Now, this corrupt socialist politician is dead. She claims her killer, or one of them, or the leader of the killers, is the son of The Terrorist mastermind. The difference between them is that one of them officially supports presents offers a religious governance, the other, a religion free governance. Their methods of governance are so similar that Hitler, Stalin, Hussein, Bhutto, and Bin Laden (the elder, and thus junior) could probably not be differentiated as governors and governments once language and social meanings were controlled for, and actions and limits from and through the varied governments were examined.
Let me put this simply and again. We sent a socialist/communist corrupt politician back to her country, without providing security, technically to engender democracy. She ends up, according to her beliefs, being killed by the son of an equally if seemingly opposite bad guy’s son. I really enjoy the thing. Oh, about the title. As World War II was coming to an end, much of the French and Italian resistance, or the parts of those we (the Allies) considered socialist or communist, was ratted to the German, Italian, or French Axis. It was as beautiful, enjoyable, pleasant to me as the best sex, successful combat (think Flawlessss Victoryyyy, from Mortal Kombat), or my outrageous natural highs, and, fitting, then as now.
Is anyone else on this, or am I all alone? I do not care what you say, I tawt I taw a putty tat. And, as usual, the puss is going down. Well, this one already HAS gone down. Bye bye putty tat. I hope she is enjoying what goes for tea, where she is, with Arafat.
Th... th... that’s all folkths!
I could write a book about this, but why? Too few could see the irony. Too many have no idea how nuanced this thing is, too funny. Still, I will play out a few of my thoughts. Debate though? Proof? No, like modern science, often by the time something has been proven, it has been simplified beyond the point of functional reality and outside of true reason. So, I will not bother with such things.
Bhutto, a woman politician from a troubled nation. A politician who had been exiled because of her corruption, among other things. A politician, who to my understanding, was a socialist, perhaps communist, probably more dependent upon who she could talk into supporting her corruption. A woman, who at our suggestion yet without any support, returned home (sounds almost like we had her arm bent clean up to the breaking point to get her there). Not only that, I would guess we influenced her nation's supreme court in order for her return to even be allowed, seemingly over the objections of the nations president.
Now, this corrupt socialist politician is dead. She claims her killer, or one of them, or the leader of the killers, is the son of The Terrorist mastermind. The difference between them is that one of them officially supports presents offers a religious governance, the other, a religion free governance. Their methods of governance are so similar that Hitler, Stalin, Hussein, Bhutto, and Bin Laden (the elder, and thus junior) could probably not be differentiated as governors and governments once language and social meanings were controlled for, and actions and limits from and through the varied governments were examined.
Let me put this simply and again. We sent a socialist/communist corrupt politician back to her country, without providing security, technically to engender democracy. She ends up, according to her beliefs, being killed by the son of an equally if seemingly opposite bad guy’s son. I really enjoy the thing. Oh, about the title. As World War II was coming to an end, much of the French and Italian resistance, or the parts of those we (the Allies) considered socialist or communist, was ratted to the German, Italian, or French Axis. It was as beautiful, enjoyable, pleasant to me as the best sex, successful combat (think Flawlessss Victoryyyy, from Mortal Kombat), or my outrageous natural highs, and, fitting, then as now.
Is anyone else on this, or am I all alone? I do not care what you say, I tawt I taw a putty tat. And, as usual, the puss is going down. Well, this one already HAS gone down. Bye bye putty tat. I hope she is enjoying what goes for tea, where she is, with Arafat.
Th... th... that’s all folkths!
The Computer, and homework, what next? (Day 27)
My computer seems to be getting fouled up again. Something(s), programs or systems (possibly the OS, Windows XP 2x 340782p or whatever junk the latest updates indicate, as if that meant anything), have been acting in weird ways. Programs keep trying to access the internet, and by not receiving access due to the firewall, they bog the machine down. One of my email addresses, which I attempt to have Outlook handle has decided not to be functional. Once more, that same email address has become impossible to check directly, through the internet connection with my ISP’s mail server. I do not know what the problems are, nor what could have caused them. I have added nothing to my computer for over a month, not a game, not a change in firewall or other configurations, nothing. This problem has been a plague for the last few days, worsening as time goes on. There is not much I can do, at this point. I have pretty much given up, whatever happens, happens, I guess.
I keep looking over the homework assigned, the notes regarding the homework, and even looking at the book, just in case there was something useful in there. Nada, I believe I have been assigned homework I have been given no clue about how to finish. It is par for the course, I am not even going to get upset about it. I will just dig around and see if I can figure it out or find someone to show me how to do it. So much for digging in and getting to the heart of the matter. I guess I will do what I can, and as with the computer, whatever happens, happens.
On the up side, I did end up going out and putting a few down range. I only shot the .22, the Ruger 22/45. She seems to shoot well, and it was fun. I went alone, as my neighbors seemed disinterested. No problem, some Saturdays I would rather stay home too. After being out that day already, and having (for them anyway) already had a busy week, sometimes one more thing is just one thing too many. Now, I was told it was because it would be too cold, for their boys. And, of course and officially, I will accept that. But I have my suspicions.
I must have dreamed harsh last night. I do not remember anything, but when I awoke this morning, my inner thighs, my forearms, and my upper arms were getting serious charlie horses, and my knees and elbows felt like they had been twisted back, forward, out of their sockets, or something. It was a torturous morning. My left hand has finally stopped with that “dead” feeling, alternating with “pins and needles” feeling, that have alternated most of this awake period. Other than waking wrong, the sleep was good.
Oh, the withdrawal from tobacco seems to be getting milder. Instead of being a kick to the groin, it is now more like a foot roasting. I had to give up the lollipops, and my teeth, and possibly the part of the jaw becoming bruised(?) have thanked me. Still, I feel edgy, tight, and mean, a bit. When will this end?
I was wondering if anyone realizes how affirmative this election cycle is. I think about the only thing we do not have, or have not had, in this race is an actual farm animal. Although, in a relative world, given the relativity of time, another time would disagree with that last. (Shocking? Shut up, modernist neophyte! This 150 year experiment is nothing compared with the weight and length (and truth) of history, and the facts therein. Beyond, if you believe slavery is over, you are more foully blinded by your progressive masters than the dolt I generally take you for.) Of course, I see Obomba as a distraction meant to make Hitlery seem like a tame choice. Perhaps he has gotten out of hand, but knowing the deceptive nature of both the Lizard Queen and The Party she belongs too, I have serious doubts about that. The boy knows very well what happens should he get out of place with the mistress of the modernist plantation, probably. It is sort of like that News Network channel which is actually a generic CNN (they took off the “C” and spelled the rest out, so people who realize what filthy communist liars CNN actually is will watch without realizing directly what they are watching, evil bastards, all of them.
Well, ok, so I am rambling. Pissing off political correctos on the way, loverly. Who asked you anyway? Me, being defensive or combative? Bugger off, thought thief. (yes, he makes this crap up on the fly, and you ought to know that by know… again, bugger off.)
I keep looking over the homework assigned, the notes regarding the homework, and even looking at the book, just in case there was something useful in there. Nada, I believe I have been assigned homework I have been given no clue about how to finish. It is par for the course, I am not even going to get upset about it. I will just dig around and see if I can figure it out or find someone to show me how to do it. So much for digging in and getting to the heart of the matter. I guess I will do what I can, and as with the computer, whatever happens, happens.
On the up side, I did end up going out and putting a few down range. I only shot the .22, the Ruger 22/45. She seems to shoot well, and it was fun. I went alone, as my neighbors seemed disinterested. No problem, some Saturdays I would rather stay home too. After being out that day already, and having (for them anyway) already had a busy week, sometimes one more thing is just one thing too many. Now, I was told it was because it would be too cold, for their boys. And, of course and officially, I will accept that. But I have my suspicions.
I must have dreamed harsh last night. I do not remember anything, but when I awoke this morning, my inner thighs, my forearms, and my upper arms were getting serious charlie horses, and my knees and elbows felt like they had been twisted back, forward, out of their sockets, or something. It was a torturous morning. My left hand has finally stopped with that “dead” feeling, alternating with “pins and needles” feeling, that have alternated most of this awake period. Other than waking wrong, the sleep was good.
Oh, the withdrawal from tobacco seems to be getting milder. Instead of being a kick to the groin, it is now more like a foot roasting. I had to give up the lollipops, and my teeth, and possibly the part of the jaw becoming bruised(?) have thanked me. Still, I feel edgy, tight, and mean, a bit. When will this end?
I was wondering if anyone realizes how affirmative this election cycle is. I think about the only thing we do not have, or have not had, in this race is an actual farm animal. Although, in a relative world, given the relativity of time, another time would disagree with that last. (Shocking? Shut up, modernist neophyte! This 150 year experiment is nothing compared with the weight and length (and truth) of history, and the facts therein. Beyond, if you believe slavery is over, you are more foully blinded by your progressive masters than the dolt I generally take you for.) Of course, I see Obomba as a distraction meant to make Hitlery seem like a tame choice. Perhaps he has gotten out of hand, but knowing the deceptive nature of both the Lizard Queen and The Party she belongs too, I have serious doubts about that. The boy knows very well what happens should he get out of place with the mistress of the modernist plantation, probably. It is sort of like that News Network channel which is actually a generic CNN (they took off the “C” and spelled the rest out, so people who realize what filthy communist liars CNN actually is will watch without realizing directly what they are watching, evil bastards, all of them.
Well, ok, so I am rambling. Pissing off political correctos on the way, loverly. Who asked you anyway? Me, being defensive or combative? Bugger off, thought thief. (yes, he makes this crap up on the fly, and you ought to know that by know… again, bugger off.)
Saturday, February 2, 2008
A little late, not. (Day 26)
I was have trouble dragging my butt out of bed. I actually did it before noon, if only by 5 minutes. I then bundle up and head out the door to see what trouble I can get into. Snow, or should I say, more snow, greats me, and lots of it. We got a good 3” to 4”, or more (do I look like a tape measure to you?). Since the broom is closer, and it prevents the production of ice tracks, I grab it and get to work making a path to the garage (and to the snow blower). I get that done and spot one of my neighbor ladies, Mrs. A henceforth. She is shoveling her walk, from the door she has made a path to the drive, to that point. I finish my sweeping and head over to see what she is up to, and what the menfolk are about. It appears she is going to do a bit of shoveling herself, she ends up doing her drive and sidewalk, complete! And, the other neighbors drive is also already done, hrmph. And, it seems the men have gone to a basketball game and will not be back until early afternoon. No problem, really, I can get the driveway clear and I just woke up anyway. I talk a little while longer, then head back to my garage and fire up the machine. I finish my drive, and see that Mrs. A has completed her side of the walk as well as her driveway, so I turn the machine north. While I am at it, I do a strangers drive next door and to the north, and the sidewalks down to where they are clear.
No great excitement, but… Wow are we getting snow this year. Which is super, now I can rent skis and get out! I had so worried about that, and really, this coming week was the first opportunity, between money, snow, and time for me to get out. I spoke with the rental shop I will use, at least the first one I will use, while I was picking up my pistol yesterday. So, really, I am all set. Monday I will probably rent for the week. I figure $30 for M-F beats $15 for 24 hours by a long shot. I might even get the nag or a neighbor to go with me if I can find some decent ski areas and if I have a little confidence in my skills.
Yuck, my sweat is so potent. It has an acidic bold scent, perhaps with a touch of gunpowder and gun oil odor, oddly, that I could probably scrape and sell to middle-aged women for sex appeal (they are weird that way, or at least they used to be). Being musky is not a great joy. At least it attracts the right kind of women, if I would get off my butt and try to figure out where the big cats of my preferred variety slink. As for me, I have never understood stink bait. Well, mostly.
No great excitement, but… Wow are we getting snow this year. Which is super, now I can rent skis and get out! I had so worried about that, and really, this coming week was the first opportunity, between money, snow, and time for me to get out. I spoke with the rental shop I will use, at least the first one I will use, while I was picking up my pistol yesterday. So, really, I am all set. Monday I will probably rent for the week. I figure $30 for M-F beats $15 for 24 hours by a long shot. I might even get the nag or a neighbor to go with me if I can find some decent ski areas and if I have a little confidence in my skills.
Yuck, my sweat is so potent. It has an acidic bold scent, perhaps with a touch of gunpowder and gun oil odor, oddly, that I could probably scrape and sell to middle-aged women for sex appeal (they are weird that way, or at least they used to be). Being musky is not a great joy. At least it attracts the right kind of women, if I would get off my butt and try to figure out where the big cats of my preferred variety slink. As for me, I have never understood stink bait. Well, mostly.
Tired, it is a struggle. I did do a few things anyway.
Though certainly not a great day, and I had to push to do the little I did, I was able to use the snow blower to clear my driveway and sidewalk, head over and do one of my neighbors drive, and further down several neighbor’s sidewalks. I had planned to do more sidewalks and a second neighbor’s drive, but I ran out of gas. When I gassed up, the stupid machine would not start (it flooded, always does). Normally I just rip the cord until the sucker rocks, but I had other things I wanted to do. Namely, I was able to pick up my pistol today. I had hoped to pick it up early enough to take her out and light off a few, which is why I rushed off to the gunsmith rather than continue to mess with the blower. When I arrived, there was only one employee behind the counter, and he was busy showing a couple of young men a number of pistols and revolvers. Heck, I enjoyed the situation and looked through the pieces myself when offered a gun. I realized I had a few things to add to the conversations, and learned a few things. Well, ok, so I may not have learned much, but I did enjoy groping the steel. As well, during the conversation, I came to realize I was speaking with young men who, at least one of them though I suspect both of them, will be officers after graduation. I thanked the one for the commitment and wished him well, the other had wandered off as I was leaving.
All things must pass, and so I concluded my visit and business and headed home. It had become far too late to shoot. As I returned, I saw the neighbor who’s drive I had not been able to get cleared. I called over and we met halfway and started to talk. I explained my situation, of course it was not a thing for him. Even doing his walk was a gift, and not a necessary one. As the conversation continued, I told him what I had just picked up. I could not remember if he had seen the .22, it turns out he had not. Seeming to be a bit curious, I asked if he wanted to check it out. Sure enough, we ended up looking at it. Well, when two or more shooters gather, a target practice might end up planned, and so it was. Tomorrow (today, Saturday, technically) we will see. He has a 9 mm Glock he has not even shot yet! He has to be going nuts, chomping at the bit to get that out. As well, he is interested in a .22 pistol for cheaper training (though 9 mm ammo is not too much more expensive). He has not shot a .45 yet, either. Being the .45 devotee that I am, I like putting this caliber in as many hands as I am able. And, I am curious about his little 9 popper. It must be a micro though, and his hands are nearly the size of mine. Still, it should be interesting.
As I was ending my conversation with this neighbor, the wife of my other neighbor drove up, and sort of tried to get my attention. Well, eventually she got it, and as the first neighbor headed home, I spoke with the misses of the other neighbor. She was quite pleased to have gotten her drive and sidewalk cleaned, again, and invited me over for supper Sunday. Knowing how averse I am to home-cooked food, it was difficult to say yes, but I am a real mensche, and dinner it is. *laughs* Although, I was not sure what time would be best. I knew my Sunday meeting was a different time this Sunday, due to the Super Bowl, so I had to get back to her, though I though 18:00 would be good. Yep, after checking an email, I called over to let them know and check about something else. Not only did I set that up, I also asked if this neighbor, too, the mister anyway, would be interested in going out and putting a few rounds down range. He is interested, though he is not sure. No guarantees, from either neighbor, but I will be checking tomorrow around noon. We might load up and head out to the range. It might be a bit messy, and I just cleaned my Xterra today, but not a problem. I really hope we can get out and put a couple hundred down range, at least.
Oh, I had this really funky dream last night. It had something to do with mass and bullet accuracy, mass proportions and ratios shown in worth of gold, by God. Hey, I do not make these things up. As well… I think it is right, somehow. I am working some things out from it. It has something to do with finding just the right load, then making sure the masses remain the same, making sure the proportions of mass are the same, and a few other things. Really, I know it is a bit crazy, but I am working some of these things on paper, for the moment. I am hoping to salvage it for when I obtain my reloader. It might just be a crazy cool dream, if not, it would be great to receive a secret (cosmic secret?).
I did not get much more done. And then I crashed at about 17:00 until 22:00 or so. I think I am going back to bed. I want to be as fresh as possible for shooting tomorrow.
All things must pass, and so I concluded my visit and business and headed home. It had become far too late to shoot. As I returned, I saw the neighbor who’s drive I had not been able to get cleared. I called over and we met halfway and started to talk. I explained my situation, of course it was not a thing for him. Even doing his walk was a gift, and not a necessary one. As the conversation continued, I told him what I had just picked up. I could not remember if he had seen the .22, it turns out he had not. Seeming to be a bit curious, I asked if he wanted to check it out. Sure enough, we ended up looking at it. Well, when two or more shooters gather, a target practice might end up planned, and so it was. Tomorrow (today, Saturday, technically) we will see. He has a 9 mm Glock he has not even shot yet! He has to be going nuts, chomping at the bit to get that out. As well, he is interested in a .22 pistol for cheaper training (though 9 mm ammo is not too much more expensive). He has not shot a .45 yet, either. Being the .45 devotee that I am, I like putting this caliber in as many hands as I am able. And, I am curious about his little 9 popper. It must be a micro though, and his hands are nearly the size of mine. Still, it should be interesting.
As I was ending my conversation with this neighbor, the wife of my other neighbor drove up, and sort of tried to get my attention. Well, eventually she got it, and as the first neighbor headed home, I spoke with the misses of the other neighbor. She was quite pleased to have gotten her drive and sidewalk cleaned, again, and invited me over for supper Sunday. Knowing how averse I am to home-cooked food, it was difficult to say yes, but I am a real mensche, and dinner it is. *laughs* Although, I was not sure what time would be best. I knew my Sunday meeting was a different time this Sunday, due to the Super Bowl, so I had to get back to her, though I though 18:00 would be good. Yep, after checking an email, I called over to let them know and check about something else. Not only did I set that up, I also asked if this neighbor, too, the mister anyway, would be interested in going out and putting a few rounds down range. He is interested, though he is not sure. No guarantees, from either neighbor, but I will be checking tomorrow around noon. We might load up and head out to the range. It might be a bit messy, and I just cleaned my Xterra today, but not a problem. I really hope we can get out and put a couple hundred down range, at least.
Oh, I had this really funky dream last night. It had something to do with mass and bullet accuracy, mass proportions and ratios shown in worth of gold, by God. Hey, I do not make these things up. As well… I think it is right, somehow. I am working some things out from it. It has something to do with finding just the right load, then making sure the masses remain the same, making sure the proportions of mass are the same, and a few other things. Really, I know it is a bit crazy, but I am working some of these things on paper, for the moment. I am hoping to salvage it for when I obtain my reloader. It might just be a crazy cool dream, if not, it would be great to receive a secret (cosmic secret?).
I did not get much more done. And then I crashed at about 17:00 until 22:00 or so. I think I am going back to bed. I want to be as fresh as possible for shooting tomorrow.
Friday, February 1, 2008
The military might have done more than most people do in a whole day, before breakfast. As for me, all I have done is become tired before breakfast!
(Day 25)
Ok, what is this grumbling about, you ask? I went to bed a little past midnight last evening. I slept well, with no interruptions to my knowledge. I awoke at 6:43, refreshed and hale, and ready to do several things on my lists. I completed a few morning regulars, checked my email, looked over my sources of information, visited a blog or two, then decided that a bagel or two would do well, with a little cream cheese. By the time I began to write this, I was already exhausted. So much so, I am not sure how much longer I will last this morning. I can barely keep my eyes open.
Normally I do not struggle, however, an old friend stopped by and we are making plans for next weekend. We both have an interest in boating kayaking for her, probably, most likely canoeing for me. There is a watersport center we both have some attachment with which is having an event next weekend, which we both of us seem interested in attending. If I pay for a place to sleep, she will pay for the gas. She is interested in both a new and better kayak, she currently has a rank beginner kayak (probably, though a canoe might work too, this part of discovery is really fun). She is also looking to add equipment to her truck which makes the sport simpler for her. She is a tough little lady, but she is fairly slight and a lady. With technology and engineering, there is no reason she needs to stretch precariously or extend or lift beyond her natural capacities just to enjoy something she so dearly loves. For my part, I am interested in a single man adventuring canoe, capable of some whitewater (though by no means is whitewater my target, I only wish to be able to survive it should I natively happen upon even serious whitewater), and it must be able to handle my 300 pounds plus 400 to 600 pounds of gear. I, as well, have not decided absolutely, perhaps a kayak would do, I would like to know more. I would like to make friends and meet people in the community, perhaps see if I could join a group for an outing or two, and perhaps as well, try out various types of boats and equipment in the lead up to a purchase in the next year or two. I am hoping to make a whitewater adventure this spring or summer, depending on Res Ipsa, money, and a few other realities.
On a side note. It might seem odd for a grown, middle aged even, full bull ogre male to have a lady friend with whom I may share a room, perhaps even a bed, without being sexually involved, but it happens. I am only a beast on the outside and in war. Perhaps that is why I am singular, having no mate, one way or the other. Life is a fix, is it not? And, yes, she is pretty. And, of course, I am a gorgeous hunk of a man beast animal. We have even been lovers in the past, and quite pleasantly so. I know her body and I remember her body well. But that was then and we are potent beings enough to be in control of our flesh, in spite of our great hungers and mutual interest. It is no small thing to be trusted, or to be able to trust. Women have no small lust of their own, so it is a mutual thing. I tease her that I see her as a sister. She knows better, and yet understands a tool, and that there are others. Life can be so much fun, and so rich, and still be right. Got to love that.
Oh, and hey, it has been a cold, snowy, silly winter. A little vacation with a dear friend is nothing to sneeze at. The Bahamas might seem more inviting, but time and money are against such notions. As well, I am a winter creature. I have a burning in my breast which allows me no comfort in warmer climbs. At 23 F, though today with pants and a shirt on, but without coat, let alone shoes and socks, I will go outside and chill a bit. Just call me a hot body. Well, that does come and go. Anyway, I look forward to this coming trip. She, my friend, is a nag and a leftist, but… She is a friend, and a good one. And, she is a pretty lady whose company it is always (almost) a pleasure to pursue.
Oh, so, I am staying up merely so that we may consolidate our plans and be set for next weekend. She was off to the laundry, though, first. When she finishes there, she will bring the flyer for the event to me (I had one, but it seems in a fit of cleaning, I accidentally parted with my copy). Still, I am sooooo tired. Ritalin and Coca-Cola are nothing to this exhaustion.
Well, just as I was finishing, she stopped over. With the information in hand, we discussed the available options and made a decision, and a stopgap decision. We discussed a few odds and ends, talked about what we were looking for, and just had a pleasant discussion. As she was preparing to leave, she suggested I call her at work once I had completed the registration. I suggested I just do it while she waited so that she might know not only that it was done but also have some input into any variables. We completed the registration, with a slight language barrier (Indian) to overcome, and the deal is now done. A little patience and a regrouping of ideas on both parties part, and a switch to other aspects of the conversation in the meanwhile, end up with a much more satisfactory communication through language barriers. I find if I do not get hung up and stuck with the misunderstanding, I can do better getting on with other things and then come back to deal with the misunderstanding later, that is. Just a thought.
*sigh* Now I cannot rest. Where is that list, again… *sigh*
Ok, what is this grumbling about, you ask? I went to bed a little past midnight last evening. I slept well, with no interruptions to my knowledge. I awoke at 6:43, refreshed and hale, and ready to do several things on my lists. I completed a few morning regulars, checked my email, looked over my sources of information, visited a blog or two, then decided that a bagel or two would do well, with a little cream cheese. By the time I began to write this, I was already exhausted. So much so, I am not sure how much longer I will last this morning. I can barely keep my eyes open.
Normally I do not struggle, however, an old friend stopped by and we are making plans for next weekend. We both have an interest in boating kayaking for her, probably, most likely canoeing for me. There is a watersport center we both have some attachment with which is having an event next weekend, which we both of us seem interested in attending. If I pay for a place to sleep, she will pay for the gas. She is interested in both a new and better kayak, she currently has a rank beginner kayak (probably, though a canoe might work too, this part of discovery is really fun). She is also looking to add equipment to her truck which makes the sport simpler for her. She is a tough little lady, but she is fairly slight and a lady. With technology and engineering, there is no reason she needs to stretch precariously or extend or lift beyond her natural capacities just to enjoy something she so dearly loves. For my part, I am interested in a single man adventuring canoe, capable of some whitewater (though by no means is whitewater my target, I only wish to be able to survive it should I natively happen upon even serious whitewater), and it must be able to handle my 300 pounds plus 400 to 600 pounds of gear. I, as well, have not decided absolutely, perhaps a kayak would do, I would like to know more. I would like to make friends and meet people in the community, perhaps see if I could join a group for an outing or two, and perhaps as well, try out various types of boats and equipment in the lead up to a purchase in the next year or two. I am hoping to make a whitewater adventure this spring or summer, depending on Res Ipsa, money, and a few other realities.
On a side note. It might seem odd for a grown, middle aged even, full bull ogre male to have a lady friend with whom I may share a room, perhaps even a bed, without being sexually involved, but it happens. I am only a beast on the outside and in war. Perhaps that is why I am singular, having no mate, one way or the other. Life is a fix, is it not? And, yes, she is pretty. And, of course, I am a gorgeous hunk of a man beast animal. We have even been lovers in the past, and quite pleasantly so. I know her body and I remember her body well. But that was then and we are potent beings enough to be in control of our flesh, in spite of our great hungers and mutual interest. It is no small thing to be trusted, or to be able to trust. Women have no small lust of their own, so it is a mutual thing. I tease her that I see her as a sister. She knows better, and yet understands a tool, and that there are others. Life can be so much fun, and so rich, and still be right. Got to love that.
Oh, and hey, it has been a cold, snowy, silly winter. A little vacation with a dear friend is nothing to sneeze at. The Bahamas might seem more inviting, but time and money are against such notions. As well, I am a winter creature. I have a burning in my breast which allows me no comfort in warmer climbs. At 23 F, though today with pants and a shirt on, but without coat, let alone shoes and socks, I will go outside and chill a bit. Just call me a hot body. Well, that does come and go. Anyway, I look forward to this coming trip. She, my friend, is a nag and a leftist, but… She is a friend, and a good one. And, she is a pretty lady whose company it is always (almost) a pleasure to pursue.
Oh, so, I am staying up merely so that we may consolidate our plans and be set for next weekend. She was off to the laundry, though, first. When she finishes there, she will bring the flyer for the event to me (I had one, but it seems in a fit of cleaning, I accidentally parted with my copy). Still, I am sooooo tired. Ritalin and Coca-Cola are nothing to this exhaustion.
Well, just as I was finishing, she stopped over. With the information in hand, we discussed the available options and made a decision, and a stopgap decision. We discussed a few odds and ends, talked about what we were looking for, and just had a pleasant discussion. As she was preparing to leave, she suggested I call her at work once I had completed the registration. I suggested I just do it while she waited so that she might know not only that it was done but also have some input into any variables. We completed the registration, with a slight language barrier (Indian) to overcome, and the deal is now done. A little patience and a regrouping of ideas on both parties part, and a switch to other aspects of the conversation in the meanwhile, end up with a much more satisfactory communication through language barriers. I find if I do not get hung up and stuck with the misunderstanding, I can do better getting on with other things and then come back to deal with the misunderstanding later, that is. Just a thought.
*sigh* Now I cannot rest. Where is that list, again… *sigh*
Thursday, January 31, 2008
What is this thing?
Some months ago, visiting a place of times past, I happened to see a friend of a past love. This woman had become my friend herself, and to the best of my knowledge she remained a friend. So, I decided to speak with her. We caught up a bit on each other’s lives, families, and personal complaints joys and thoughts. It was a pleasant affair, and as it was coming to a close, we seemed to gauge each other about the prospect of discussing the initial means of our friendship, my past love. The topic just flowed and we discussed how she was doing, what she was doing, and such. It appears this past love still has interest. And though I share some interest, I could never be more than a friend. I know that would not work, neither my conscious nor my past loves lack of constraint would be sufficiently satisfied with any deal we two might arrange. Though when proffered a phone number, I accepted if with reservations, knowing I would not call.
Not so long ago, as I was in that particular area again, I met the lady herself. It has been some time since we were together, and we had been together for 8 years. She was looking good, sprightly perhaps, and pleasant. We spent some time discussing life and all, and I enjoyed the visit, and knowing that she is well. But as all visits must, our time together came to a close. She invited me to stop by, gave me her phone number, and there was a set to her I had no doubts about. She is still open to me, to my touch, to my love.
As I said, I have no intention of reinvigorating an incorrect love. Celibate four or more years, temptations are probably more potent than ever. Still, I did nothing. Even more recently, I happened to be in that area once again. This time, I never saw her, she did not approach, she actually snuck past me, I do believe. I saw her face, as she cast a glance my way, then drove off. I realize she was crushed. Crushed by my failure to visit, crushed by her feelings from this.
Though it would be so easy to say “Such is life.” or “Time heals all things.”, I think I will keep my mouth shut. I truly had hoped she would move on. She would be a good find. She is a good love, a good cook, she obeys and yet lends guidance (playing me like a fiddle, after a little social tuning, from time to time, and actually much to my joy after I figured it out). She has wisdom and some smarts, she is a good woman. We parted because she would not move from that place and, I think too, because she cannot have children. Or at least, that last was something I was beginning to feel called toward. Not being able to be a father would always have been a difficulty. I do not understand why she has not gone on, and I probably cannot understand the depths of her pain, but I can pray for her, in her loneliness, but that is all I can do. What a thing, this thing called love.
Not so long ago, as I was in that particular area again, I met the lady herself. It has been some time since we were together, and we had been together for 8 years. She was looking good, sprightly perhaps, and pleasant. We spent some time discussing life and all, and I enjoyed the visit, and knowing that she is well. But as all visits must, our time together came to a close. She invited me to stop by, gave me her phone number, and there was a set to her I had no doubts about. She is still open to me, to my touch, to my love.
As I said, I have no intention of reinvigorating an incorrect love. Celibate four or more years, temptations are probably more potent than ever. Still, I did nothing. Even more recently, I happened to be in that area once again. This time, I never saw her, she did not approach, she actually snuck past me, I do believe. I saw her face, as she cast a glance my way, then drove off. I realize she was crushed. Crushed by my failure to visit, crushed by her feelings from this.
Though it would be so easy to say “Such is life.” or “Time heals all things.”, I think I will keep my mouth shut. I truly had hoped she would move on. She would be a good find. She is a good love, a good cook, she obeys and yet lends guidance (playing me like a fiddle, after a little social tuning, from time to time, and actually much to my joy after I figured it out). She has wisdom and some smarts, she is a good woman. We parted because she would not move from that place and, I think too, because she cannot have children. Or at least, that last was something I was beginning to feel called toward. Not being able to be a father would always have been a difficulty. I do not understand why she has not gone on, and I probably cannot understand the depths of her pain, but I can pray for her, in her loneliness, but that is all I can do. What a thing, this thing called love.
Tired, confused, and hot. (Day 24)
The last few days have been exhausting. I have been cat napping, having several short sleep periods each of the last two days for certain. It has been difficult staying awake or asleep. I have been able to do the old homework in preparation for the test (today, if class is not canceled again). However, after doing that two or three times, as I moved into the next set of homework (what will be due today) I am having difficulty. Focus, last night and this morning, has been lacking. Still, I will dig in and do what I may. I do have a few tricks up my sleeve and I will get it done.
I phoned my mother this morning. I have been trying to pace my calls, now that she is better. Every other day, if I do not hear from here, I call. Today was the right day, she had been thinking about calling me with some information and was intending to call me right after she finished a few tasks. She is doing quite well, she is fully able around the house, in the kitchen, and with personal care again. She has reduced her pain tabs, using ibuprofen as her mainstay. But the real news is that she is well enough to travel. Beyond, she will be driving herself! It is difficult to keep a farm girl down. In spite of being a smoker, a bit overweight, and beyond retirement age, she does quite well, and recovers extremely well. She lost two pints of blood in her 8-9 hour surgery on the 7th of this month. The surgery was supposed to be 4-6 hours, apparently there were complications.
Roast! Last night I produced a fine chuck roast. I have found a method which I really enjoy. First, I pick a healthy chuck roast, about 4-6 pounds. I then salt the meat on all edges and sides, and let it stand salted for 40 minutes. I then add a little water (several cups) to the roaster (open roaster), turning the oven to broil. When the oven is heated, and the meat has been salted for 40 minutes, I put the meat into the heated oven (with scrubbed potatoes around it in the roaster). I set the timer for 15 minutes. When the timer dings, I turn the meat and let it broil for 15 minutes longer. I then add onions, placing them on top of the roast, but quickly so as to keep the heat in the oven (cut in two, usually two onions for four halves). I also then turn to oven off for 40 minutes. When the timer goes off again, I turn the oven to 350 degrees and cook the meat for 45 minutes, allowing the reheating of the oven to be a part of the time. You do not have to believe me, but unless you have tried it, you will never know.
Oh, about the hot, do not ask. For some reason, I am just burning up today. If I thought I could get away with it, I would go outside for a bit in my boxers. As it is, since my door is a bit shielded, I have just been letting the 18 F air in on me for spits of moments, ducking in quickly if I hear a noise. It has been like this for two days. Maybe I am dying! Nope, I am not in pain, just hot.
Well, I am off to bug other people. Be well.
I phoned my mother this morning. I have been trying to pace my calls, now that she is better. Every other day, if I do not hear from here, I call. Today was the right day, she had been thinking about calling me with some information and was intending to call me right after she finished a few tasks. She is doing quite well, she is fully able around the house, in the kitchen, and with personal care again. She has reduced her pain tabs, using ibuprofen as her mainstay. But the real news is that she is well enough to travel. Beyond, she will be driving herself! It is difficult to keep a farm girl down. In spite of being a smoker, a bit overweight, and beyond retirement age, she does quite well, and recovers extremely well. She lost two pints of blood in her 8-9 hour surgery on the 7th of this month. The surgery was supposed to be 4-6 hours, apparently there were complications.
Roast! Last night I produced a fine chuck roast. I have found a method which I really enjoy. First, I pick a healthy chuck roast, about 4-6 pounds. I then salt the meat on all edges and sides, and let it stand salted for 40 minutes. I then add a little water (several cups) to the roaster (open roaster), turning the oven to broil. When the oven is heated, and the meat has been salted for 40 minutes, I put the meat into the heated oven (with scrubbed potatoes around it in the roaster). I set the timer for 15 minutes. When the timer dings, I turn the meat and let it broil for 15 minutes longer. I then add onions, placing them on top of the roast, but quickly so as to keep the heat in the oven (cut in two, usually two onions for four halves). I also then turn to oven off for 40 minutes. When the timer goes off again, I turn the oven to 350 degrees and cook the meat for 45 minutes, allowing the reheating of the oven to be a part of the time. You do not have to believe me, but unless you have tried it, you will never know.
Oh, about the hot, do not ask. For some reason, I am just burning up today. If I thought I could get away with it, I would go outside for a bit in my boxers. As it is, since my door is a bit shielded, I have just been letting the 18 F air in on me for spits of moments, ducking in quickly if I hear a noise. It has been like this for two days. Maybe I am dying! Nope, I am not in pain, just hot.
Well, I am off to bug other people. Be well.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Reloading Equipment
If you are curious about reloading equipment, read on. I have tried to create an information base, beginners to be sure, here for any interested parties. I will not say everything here is absolute. Among other reasons, such as the variability of the systems available, differences of definition which occur from user to user and manufacturer to manufacturer or even one field of science to another within the scope herein, is the fact that I am fallible. If you are not interested in a study of the general material, and are more curious how this involves me, then skip to the “***”. I will get on with it there.
What am I discussing? Fair enough, a good question for most people. I wrote the article below, starting at the “***”, and then realized many people have no idea about what I discuss in this piece. Reloading equipment is an equipment system used to reload (make ready to fire through a firearm again) already fired ammunition or it may be used to construct new bullets from new components so as to actually manufacture virgin ammunition. The primary piece of the system is called a press. This piece literally uses a pressing action in order to do a variety of tasks in the ammunition manufacturing process. For nearly each caliber of ammunition, a group of dies, powder dispensers, powder checking systems, capping devices, and other equipment may be used for a variety of those and other processes. The processes include actions such as: reforming the brass so that the bullet will fit properly; decapping/capping (removing the old bullet primer then placing a new one into the brass); adding the powder to the newly capped brass; adding the bullet to the brass, then pressing that into the brass to a specific and necessary depth. There are other potential steps in the process. As well, some men perform some of these steps by hand (using alternate equipment of course) while others use the press itself for everything, depending on the type of press to personal preferences.
There are four types of reloading equipment systems, only 3 of which are what I consider press based. The oddball is the “hand press”. These are little units one may build ammunition from with equipment which fits in the palm of one’s hand. It is very slow, and there are other difficulties with it. However, once I get going on this, I may consider such a thing because of it’s portability. Perfect for backwoods camping and hunting trips. Of the presses, there are three types. Single station presses, which allow only one function at a time to be completed. With this press, the manufacturer must, for example, resize all of his brass at one time (or whatever of his stock he wishes to work with). Then, he will need to reset to decap/cap (some presses allow the decapping and capping in one step). Each process will need to be run one process at a time, generally speaking. It is laborious, time consuming just because of the need to change out processes, and with those problems, the chances of interruption (not a good thing) increases. The next two types of presses have multiple process stations. How the processes are arranged and what processes are set in the system, beyond the necessities (decap/recap before adding powder by necessity of needing a new cap in place to hold the powder and the fact that once the powder is placed, removing and recapping would be unwise in more than one way, as an example), is quite up to the artist. Next is what is called a tower press. It usually has a set number of stations (often four or five process stations) which may be set to do the various processes involved. Sometimes it is automatic, meaning a pull on the press’s lever or handle will not only lower the press systems, activating the various processes, it will rotate the plate upon which the ammunition sits after the processes have been completed and the systems disengage the under-construction bullets, moving the ammunition to the next station for that station's process. Some of these presses do not do this, requiring the artisan to manually rotate the bullet plate. The next type is called the progressive press. These are always automatic (though they may have the option to be set to manual rotation of the bullet plate). These last are, by far, the fastest. They have their drawbacks, but few in my opinion, cost often being the turnoff for most.
Beyond the mainstay of the press, yet still equipment used in the process, one finds the need for everything from scales (for powder), calipers (to ensure the brass has been correctly formed and that the bullet is properly seated in the brass, to dozens of more and less essential additional equipment. Finally, the bullet components must be considered. Everything from caps (which ignite the powder in the bullet) to brass to powder (among several other consumable products), many types and manufacturers of these items must be considered, and then compared by firing the final constructed bullets with these various consumable goods, as one attempts to find the best shooting, least expensive, ammunition ingredient for the shooter’s purposes. I hope that helps.
***
I have been researching equipment which will allow me to load my own ammunition. After looking at the actual base equipment, types of equipment, and options of those pieces which are directly applied to the process, I find that the research only starts there. To give you an idea of how complicated it is, think of buying a car. Now, imagine if you bought the body, engine, tires, and interior components separately, down to the window handle (or electric window opener, with various speeds to choose from). As well, imagine that before you could use your car, you actually needed to buy or build a garage (garage = reloading station bench in this case, which is not vital, it is necessary for reloading). Ok, sounds complex right? Now consider that every single component I just spoke of can be economic to deluxe, often with several variations between the top and bottom rungs; that each company can make parts that work for both their and other manufacturer’s systems, though neither absolutely nor equally; that everyone says their products are the best (of course); and every end user believes the systems they have purchased is the best, or good enough, or foolish to spend more or less than what they have spent.
I have done years of research, as I said. And, yes, I could probably get into a functional system for $600 dollars. That is the minimum for a complete system, including press, dies, a press bench, and all non-consumable and minimal bullet equipment. However, like anything else, buying the cheapest is not wise, satisfying, or probably necessary. When the cost is spread over a lifetime, as these systems really will last that long, even double the cost is not unreasonable if the system works better and would be more enjoyable and practical to use, especially over a lifetime. The system I am considering, with every bell and whistle I see as truly worth my time, and within the parameters I absolutely must have (though not including bullets, powder, etc either) will cost about $1200 plus the cost of a bench.
This system will allow me to produce bullets by the piece or realistically scale production to near mass production of up to 4-600 bullets an hour in just about any caliber I would have interest in producing. It has a lifetime warranty unlike any other system, and that warranty is transferable, meaning if I gave it to a son or sold it to a friend, the company still warranties the press. The warranty is good, if something breaks (usually a minor piece, gaskets, o-rings, and typical culprits such as those being the huge majority of difficulty from what I have found), they will trouble shoot on the phone if necessary, then send (free) what is needed or suspected to be the problem. The press I am looking at is the Dillon 550b, initially set for the .45 acp. I also have plans for other calibers, namely the .500 S&W magnum and the .308. It saves a great deal on ammunition, allows for a far greater accuracy and regularity of ammunition, and it is definitely a nerdish activity, blue collar and yet as technological as I might care to engage. It is right for me, for a great variety of reasons.
Oh, any opinions are welcome. Any advice, as well, is more than welcome. I will have to see how money is this coming month, but I believe I am at the point where I will be buying this item as early as February, though as late as May. It would have been guaranteed this month, but because of the elimination of a chance for school funding, I am having to re-evaluate everything financial. As well, I did spend a bit more, thinking I would be a bit more set, so there is that too (Counting chickens before the eggs hatch and whatnot. Hush, You!). I will get there, but I am excited now.
What am I discussing? Fair enough, a good question for most people. I wrote the article below, starting at the “***”, and then realized many people have no idea about what I discuss in this piece. Reloading equipment is an equipment system used to reload (make ready to fire through a firearm again) already fired ammunition or it may be used to construct new bullets from new components so as to actually manufacture virgin ammunition. The primary piece of the system is called a press. This piece literally uses a pressing action in order to do a variety of tasks in the ammunition manufacturing process. For nearly each caliber of ammunition, a group of dies, powder dispensers, powder checking systems, capping devices, and other equipment may be used for a variety of those and other processes. The processes include actions such as: reforming the brass so that the bullet will fit properly; decapping/capping (removing the old bullet primer then placing a new one into the brass); adding the powder to the newly capped brass; adding the bullet to the brass, then pressing that into the brass to a specific and necessary depth. There are other potential steps in the process. As well, some men perform some of these steps by hand (using alternate equipment of course) while others use the press itself for everything, depending on the type of press to personal preferences.
There are four types of reloading equipment systems, only 3 of which are what I consider press based. The oddball is the “hand press”. These are little units one may build ammunition from with equipment which fits in the palm of one’s hand. It is very slow, and there are other difficulties with it. However, once I get going on this, I may consider such a thing because of it’s portability. Perfect for backwoods camping and hunting trips. Of the presses, there are three types. Single station presses, which allow only one function at a time to be completed. With this press, the manufacturer must, for example, resize all of his brass at one time (or whatever of his stock he wishes to work with). Then, he will need to reset to decap/cap (some presses allow the decapping and capping in one step). Each process will need to be run one process at a time, generally speaking. It is laborious, time consuming just because of the need to change out processes, and with those problems, the chances of interruption (not a good thing) increases. The next two types of presses have multiple process stations. How the processes are arranged and what processes are set in the system, beyond the necessities (decap/recap before adding powder by necessity of needing a new cap in place to hold the powder and the fact that once the powder is placed, removing and recapping would be unwise in more than one way, as an example), is quite up to the artist. Next is what is called a tower press. It usually has a set number of stations (often four or five process stations) which may be set to do the various processes involved. Sometimes it is automatic, meaning a pull on the press’s lever or handle will not only lower the press systems, activating the various processes, it will rotate the plate upon which the ammunition sits after the processes have been completed and the systems disengage the under-construction bullets, moving the ammunition to the next station for that station's process. Some of these presses do not do this, requiring the artisan to manually rotate the bullet plate. The next type is called the progressive press. These are always automatic (though they may have the option to be set to manual rotation of the bullet plate). These last are, by far, the fastest. They have their drawbacks, but few in my opinion, cost often being the turnoff for most.
Beyond the mainstay of the press, yet still equipment used in the process, one finds the need for everything from scales (for powder), calipers (to ensure the brass has been correctly formed and that the bullet is properly seated in the brass, to dozens of more and less essential additional equipment. Finally, the bullet components must be considered. Everything from caps (which ignite the powder in the bullet) to brass to powder (among several other consumable products), many types and manufacturers of these items must be considered, and then compared by firing the final constructed bullets with these various consumable goods, as one attempts to find the best shooting, least expensive, ammunition ingredient for the shooter’s purposes. I hope that helps.
***
I have been researching equipment which will allow me to load my own ammunition. After looking at the actual base equipment, types of equipment, and options of those pieces which are directly applied to the process, I find that the research only starts there. To give you an idea of how complicated it is, think of buying a car. Now, imagine if you bought the body, engine, tires, and interior components separately, down to the window handle (or electric window opener, with various speeds to choose from). As well, imagine that before you could use your car, you actually needed to buy or build a garage (garage = reloading station bench in this case, which is not vital, it is necessary for reloading). Ok, sounds complex right? Now consider that every single component I just spoke of can be economic to deluxe, often with several variations between the top and bottom rungs; that each company can make parts that work for both their and other manufacturer’s systems, though neither absolutely nor equally; that everyone says their products are the best (of course); and every end user believes the systems they have purchased is the best, or good enough, or foolish to spend more or less than what they have spent.
I have done years of research, as I said. And, yes, I could probably get into a functional system for $600 dollars. That is the minimum for a complete system, including press, dies, a press bench, and all non-consumable and minimal bullet equipment. However, like anything else, buying the cheapest is not wise, satisfying, or probably necessary. When the cost is spread over a lifetime, as these systems really will last that long, even double the cost is not unreasonable if the system works better and would be more enjoyable and practical to use, especially over a lifetime. The system I am considering, with every bell and whistle I see as truly worth my time, and within the parameters I absolutely must have (though not including bullets, powder, etc either) will cost about $1200 plus the cost of a bench.
This system will allow me to produce bullets by the piece or realistically scale production to near mass production of up to 4-600 bullets an hour in just about any caliber I would have interest in producing. It has a lifetime warranty unlike any other system, and that warranty is transferable, meaning if I gave it to a son or sold it to a friend, the company still warranties the press. The warranty is good, if something breaks (usually a minor piece, gaskets, o-rings, and typical culprits such as those being the huge majority of difficulty from what I have found), they will trouble shoot on the phone if necessary, then send (free) what is needed or suspected to be the problem. The press I am looking at is the Dillon 550b, initially set for the .45 acp. I also have plans for other calibers, namely the .500 S&W magnum and the .308. It saves a great deal on ammunition, allows for a far greater accuracy and regularity of ammunition, and it is definitely a nerdish activity, blue collar and yet as technological as I might care to engage. It is right for me, for a great variety of reasons.
Oh, any opinions are welcome. Any advice, as well, is more than welcome. I will have to see how money is this coming month, but I believe I am at the point where I will be buying this item as early as February, though as late as May. It would have been guaranteed this month, but because of the elimination of a chance for school funding, I am having to re-evaluate everything financial. As well, I did spend a bit more, thinking I would be a bit more set, so there is that too (Counting chickens before the eggs hatch and whatnot. Hush, You!). I will get there, but I am excited now.
I have to wonder. (Day 23)
I started thinking about when and why I pull back from responding to other people’s blogs. What I realize is that if people slow down and begin blogging one piece every few days, I might end up commenting on every piece they have. And, ok, after a quick review, I realize my comments can be a bit potent (that is, offensive to the politically correct crowd, automatically, even when that was not at all my point or intent). And, a lot of responses from me on a slow writer can heavily and quickly make their blog politically incorrect, harsh to middle-of-the-roaders and definitely toxic to anyone even lightly leftist, as the sun is to vampires (or so the myth goes). After a few days of this, I realize I may be tilting their teeter-totter too hard, fast, and far in one direction. So, I quit. Oh, I know, I am slow to take a clue and this happens pretty hard and heavy before I realize… but I do try to be cognizant.
I become a little perturbed, because I really enjoy sharing, debating, saying my mind, and such, but I do have some notion of… fairness, tranquility, privacy, and a few other things. As well, I note I must be nearly singular. As many people as I get visiting here, I receive feedback from one woman. I guess I am amazed. I would love to have responses, tons of them. Those who agree, do not agree, those who correct, or advise. I would have the response level I give. Though I am broken, maybe permanently, I am not delicate. I would not hunt someone down and do mean or hurtful things upon their body because they disagree. I think I have thicker skin, and more often, than most “healthy” people. Of course, if one looks like Frankenstein, sticks and stones had best become comfortable aspects of one’s environment. Ha… I kill ME. Where is Ac (ckuhhhh) med when you need him.
So, does anyone think I should respond anyway? Do you all think I should hold my tongue (pen… drats, urhm, keyboard) as I do? What is the consensus? What would you rather from me on your blog, a comment on most of your postings with additional posts as I see fit, one comment only, or an occasional comment (say one comment per three of your posts)? Should I stick to politics light and empty content, keeping everything politically neutral, staying very on topic, or should I wander as I may? I am not going to jump you for this. I may or may not agree, I may or may not ask for clarification if you post, and I may or may not comply. This is just taking stock, I do not act in accordance with any non-governmental democracy, if I do attempt to find what reasonable etiquette is and live reasonably within that. So, now is your chance.
If I have been freaking you and yours out, tell me. If you wonder why I have not responded when you had hoped I would, now you know why and have a chance at some input. Well, I think I will shower, do a spot of cleaning, go to the store, do some more homework, and figure out what to do with life in general. Oh, I ought to call the U. of I. That woman did not get back to me. I think they are about as interested in having me back as Europe is hoping for the plague (well, non-government Europe). And, I think it is high time I break down and admit I have a problem with Saturday mornings, then make an appointment for confession. *sigh* Ok, crutches when they are called for, se la vie.
I become a little perturbed, because I really enjoy sharing, debating, saying my mind, and such, but I do have some notion of… fairness, tranquility, privacy, and a few other things. As well, I note I must be nearly singular. As many people as I get visiting here, I receive feedback from one woman. I guess I am amazed. I would love to have responses, tons of them. Those who agree, do not agree, those who correct, or advise. I would have the response level I give. Though I am broken, maybe permanently, I am not delicate. I would not hunt someone down and do mean or hurtful things upon their body because they disagree. I think I have thicker skin, and more often, than most “healthy” people. Of course, if one looks like Frankenstein, sticks and stones had best become comfortable aspects of one’s environment. Ha… I kill ME. Where is Ac (ckuhhhh) med when you need him.
So, does anyone think I should respond anyway? Do you all think I should hold my tongue (pen… drats, urhm, keyboard) as I do? What is the consensus? What would you rather from me on your blog, a comment on most of your postings with additional posts as I see fit, one comment only, or an occasional comment (say one comment per three of your posts)? Should I stick to politics light and empty content, keeping everything politically neutral, staying very on topic, or should I wander as I may? I am not going to jump you for this. I may or may not agree, I may or may not ask for clarification if you post, and I may or may not comply. This is just taking stock, I do not act in accordance with any non-governmental democracy, if I do attempt to find what reasonable etiquette is and live reasonably within that. So, now is your chance.
If I have been freaking you and yours out, tell me. If you wonder why I have not responded when you had hoped I would, now you know why and have a chance at some input. Well, I think I will shower, do a spot of cleaning, go to the store, do some more homework, and figure out what to do with life in general. Oh, I ought to call the U. of I. That woman did not get back to me. I think they are about as interested in having me back as Europe is hoping for the plague (well, non-government Europe). And, I think it is high time I break down and admit I have a problem with Saturday mornings, then make an appointment for confession. *sigh* Ok, crutches when they are called for, se la vie.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Romney, most likely.
I will not promise he will win. I neither know nor care who else supports him. I am not happy about voting for him. However, I think he can be hammered into form, for the most part. As with President Bush, he will do things I really do not like. He, like Bush, will have to be forced to do “the right thing”, sometimes. He will have a different view from us peons, but look, he is running for president, we are peons *laughs* (if darn rich peasants, and believe as we do that we are far above our real stations (though, too, we are “above our station”… we are Americans, freemen)), go figure. He is more liberal than I care to understand. Actually, his Mormonism is a plus, his liberalism is his problem for me. With enough groveling on his part, and enough of an enjoinment with the conservative aspects of the party (meaning proper cabinet members and advisers, I will need to see that happening), he might do.
Sure, I was for Thompson after I was against him. But really, he was a weak fourth choice for me when everything shook out. But in truth, third, actually, as one of the four was actually never in the race (and that was satisfying to me because he stalled too long while deciding whether to enter the race, and, I had hoped Thompson would stay out too, for a similar reason as well as his modest claim to conservativism.) Such is politics. Yes, it sounds crazy, but like any plan, it was a great plan while it lasted… which ended up being shorter than even the start of the darned race.
As well, I thought I should add this. I have had great anger regarding President Bush. Darned Texan got on my nerves more than once. He seemingly missed some very important points, and often kissed the wrong hands in his political romances. But every man we send to the White House will do so. As well, every man we send there should do so. (No, I do not like that either, hush, my story… comment if you have something to say.) I do not vote for a slaves, I vote for leaders. Once he takes his place, he is on autopilot and will do what he believes is correct, using more information than I have, with my and your and that stinking liberal hippies' welfare in mind, all of our welfare in mind as best as he is able with what power he has. Which means he has to do for the hippie as he does for me, if he does slightly more for me than not… that last bit is only a hope and then only in certain areas (why would he make me safer than the hippie?).
In President Bush’s case, he really was a decent conservative, not perfect, decent. And, more, he is the first president since President Reagan, and President Eisenhower before that who I could respect across the board. Clinton, Carter, Ford, Nixon, LBJ, Kennedy, disgusting or weak, people who just happened to be where they were when someone was needed or criminally elected miscreants. Drugs, stupidity, timidity, illegality, lust, criminality, and corruption are all I have to say about those. Yes, not only has President Bush, and his father, been a good man, they have been good family men. Their wives have been powerful ladies, but ladies indeed. The wives have had ideas, supported programs, but more, they supported their men, their husbands, and their whole families first. I have been pleased to have these people, as people, represent my nation domestically and internationally.
I can see that last bit more with Romney, much more than with Thompson, if Thompson might have been a bit more conservative (questionable). I do think Romney is a bit slick looking, yet I am making some room as I am seeing him look more human in his exhausting run. As I see my choices dwindle, it is down to writing in a candidate or Romney. I thought if Thompson dropped, I would fold, but I have changed my mind. As I think about this last… I wonder… By their fruits will they be known… Sorry Fred, Romney has you there. But, Lord knows, McCain and Rudy are horrid choices that way as well.
I am taking a break from study. I have studied off and on all weekend for my test later today. It is supposed to rain, freeze, slush, then snow before class, so I am not sure it will happen. Still, I would rather be ready than be wrong. I have rewritten my notes and redone my homework twice, and am about to hit it again. I did not really have time to try some of those problems I wrote down which were extras, but they will get done. If nothing else, I want them for my final review. Well, off I go. Oh, I believe I am finished pouting. Not sure what that was really about… a little anger at the slow blogging (he is lying), but I think more an ongoing frustration with my tobacco thing. Well, I am happy to be pissed, it means I am winning that fight.
Blessings. And yes, even if I do not agree with you, heck, even if you or I do not like the other… I do love you. Once again, blessings.
Sure, I was for Thompson after I was against him. But really, he was a weak fourth choice for me when everything shook out. But in truth, third, actually, as one of the four was actually never in the race (and that was satisfying to me because he stalled too long while deciding whether to enter the race, and, I had hoped Thompson would stay out too, for a similar reason as well as his modest claim to conservativism.) Such is politics. Yes, it sounds crazy, but like any plan, it was a great plan while it lasted… which ended up being shorter than even the start of the darned race.
As well, I thought I should add this. I have had great anger regarding President Bush. Darned Texan got on my nerves more than once. He seemingly missed some very important points, and often kissed the wrong hands in his political romances. But every man we send to the White House will do so. As well, every man we send there should do so. (No, I do not like that either, hush, my story… comment if you have something to say.) I do not vote for a slaves, I vote for leaders. Once he takes his place, he is on autopilot and will do what he believes is correct, using more information than I have, with my and your and that stinking liberal hippies' welfare in mind, all of our welfare in mind as best as he is able with what power he has. Which means he has to do for the hippie as he does for me, if he does slightly more for me than not… that last bit is only a hope and then only in certain areas (why would he make me safer than the hippie?).
In President Bush’s case, he really was a decent conservative, not perfect, decent. And, more, he is the first president since President Reagan, and President Eisenhower before that who I could respect across the board. Clinton, Carter, Ford, Nixon, LBJ, Kennedy, disgusting or weak, people who just happened to be where they were when someone was needed or criminally elected miscreants. Drugs, stupidity, timidity, illegality, lust, criminality, and corruption are all I have to say about those. Yes, not only has President Bush, and his father, been a good man, they have been good family men. Their wives have been powerful ladies, but ladies indeed. The wives have had ideas, supported programs, but more, they supported their men, their husbands, and their whole families first. I have been pleased to have these people, as people, represent my nation domestically and internationally.
I can see that last bit more with Romney, much more than with Thompson, if Thompson might have been a bit more conservative (questionable). I do think Romney is a bit slick looking, yet I am making some room as I am seeing him look more human in his exhausting run. As I see my choices dwindle, it is down to writing in a candidate or Romney. I thought if Thompson dropped, I would fold, but I have changed my mind. As I think about this last… I wonder… By their fruits will they be known… Sorry Fred, Romney has you there. But, Lord knows, McCain and Rudy are horrid choices that way as well.
I am taking a break from study. I have studied off and on all weekend for my test later today. It is supposed to rain, freeze, slush, then snow before class, so I am not sure it will happen. Still, I would rather be ready than be wrong. I have rewritten my notes and redone my homework twice, and am about to hit it again. I did not really have time to try some of those problems I wrote down which were extras, but they will get done. If nothing else, I want them for my final review. Well, off I go. Oh, I believe I am finished pouting. Not sure what that was really about… a little anger at the slow blogging (he is lying), but I think more an ongoing frustration with my tobacco thing. Well, I am happy to be pissed, it means I am winning that fight.
Blessings. And yes, even if I do not agree with you, heck, even if you or I do not like the other… I do love you. Once again, blessings.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)