Old Fools Journal: Life Sketches

I think that I cannot preserve my health and spirits, unless I spend four hours a day at least - and it is commonly more than that - sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields, absolutely free from all worldly engagements.  ~Henry David Thoreau

No man should go through life without once experiencing healthy, even bored solitude in the wilderness, finding himself depending solely on himself and thereby learning his true and hidden strength. ~Jack Kerouac

Though I am not an artist in the sense of great or even significant I am an artist in the sense that we are all artist to some degree.  I look at the things other people do without judgement. I only want to see what they see and I want to see what the artist wants me to see.  They are different things. Through the art the artist is shouting something and I want to know what that something is. (For the artist that read this post don't think I pass over your work lightly, I study it. You know who you are.)  The things that my bride does when she is in the mood astound me as do things children do. The things I do make me think "primative". Often times in retrospect the things I do says "record keeping".  Good or bad it gives me great satisfaction to sketch scenes of my childhood.

This particular one is Mom's view from the front of our little house in the woods off Rodney Parham Road west of Little Rock, Ark. in about 1950.  That is if she happened to be looking. (She did not have to be looking she could always see me). This was back in the days of my youth when I thought I was Indian and I could be quite stealthy.That's me in the uppper left corner about to disappear into the bushes. It appeared from this vantage point to be thick brush but there were animal trails and by following the one I happen to be on in this sketch and pushing aside the limbs of the brush for about ten feet the trees opened up a bit and the going was easy.  It always amazed me that ten feet from that little road in front of our house I could strip nekkid and no one would know. Sometimes I did.

I spent a lot of time in those woods and I think I knew them better than anyone else around there.  I only remember once taking someone with me. Even at that I have big blank spots in the map in my head of the places I never saw. It was a big woods.

As far as I know there was never anyone else in those woods not even other kids but I always thought someone was watching me. That someone became the "man in the woods" and later just "the Indian". I never spoke of him and I never saw him either. If I had of seen him it would have scared the crap out of me.  There were creatures watching me but like the squirrel in the tree by the house only on rare occasions was I allowed to see them. I never saw any fairies or elves either but I was always on the lookout for them.  I took the crashing of "dead falls" I did not see as a sure sign. That did scare the crap out of me. Then I talked to them after a little swearing mostly thanking them for saving me...again.

Later when I had motorized wheels I lost interest in those woods but in my  bicycle years I rode all the old logging roads and I had a spot just down the road to the left in this picture where I could get my bike through the brush and onto a grown over logging road. Taking my heavy old Hawthorne with the big balloon tires and full fenders places that had probably never seen a bicycle. That was long before the ubiquitous mountain bike.

Just to the left of that open gate was where I ran over our good bucket with a 1937 Ford Sedan in my learning years. It was also where I first let my Mom see me smoking a cigarette. I'm not proud of either of those events.  To the left is to the main road and two miles to school. To the right is to Grandma's house.

I'm happy to have the memory of this place because it is not there now. It has been bulldozed into oblivion but it is still alive in the picture show in my head.


Life is not a race, everyone finishes. The last to finish is the winner. t.swaim

Old Fools Journal: Thirteen going on Twenty Something

Please excuse the blatant use of this public publication for personal business. I am wallowing in self pity brought on by our forced separation from one of the few people in the world I give a shit about.  I didn't put this together very well but when I think of this delightful young lady I get all fuzzy headed and stupid. 

Dear Amanda,
It has been over a year and a half since your grandmother and I have seen you and since letters and packages we send you mysteriously disappear and since you parents seem indisposed to even talk to us this appears the only way to at least get a letter out there that you may someday see.

I don't know why they will not talk to us as they were more than willing to when they needed us. They somehow see us as a threat but I wish them nothing but the best. I wish them the best because they are yours.

In the beginning we were there. I am still holding pictures for you of your very pregnant mother and father's marriage ceremony. It was nice ceremony held in their friend's  backyard here in Houma.  There was a lot of tension that day and I have no idea what that was about but I am glad I was there to take the pictures.  Your mother was beautiful and your father was handsome.

Your mother was talking to us then and according to your gramma she had plenty to say when you decided at seven months that you'd had enough of that indoor stuff and wanted out. You would not take no for an answer. When gramma pointed out to the hospital staff that there was a head poking out of your mom they decided prepare you a welcoming party.

Slicker than snot you appeared two months early and ready to kick some ass. Since you were a preemie we worried for you and of course they wired you up so we were constantly reminded we needed to worry.  You did not, you had come to stay. Neither I nor your gramma regret one second we spent sitting up with you sleeping on us because you were fitful and kept getting wrapped in your wires.  We were afraid you would strangle in those damn things. Some of my most warm memories are of sitting in the rocking chair with you laying on my belly finally sound asleep but hanging on to my thumb at four in the morning.  I would sit there willing you to grow up strong and happy. I would do it again a thousand times.

When you first stood on your own I new trouble was coming. I saw you take you first steps on your own from my rocking chair to the coffee table. Three they were and then the biggest smile that would fit on your face appeared.  Within days you were walking all over the house. Then the running started followed quickly by the jumping.

I am not a heavy meat eater but I gave you your first.  You were cranky and carrying on that day and no one knew what to do including myself. I just carried you around hoping that my big belly would at least be a comfort. You were a good eater but you didn't seem to want any of the stuff you had been eating. Gramma had cooked a ham and I ducked into the kitchen to get a bite from the pot while carrying you.  I offered you a bite and for the next fifteen minutes you ate ham as fast as I could feed it to you.  You weren't cranky anymore.  Apparently you needed pigfat.

Gramma about had a fit when you started on the steps but I didn't.  The steps were soon not a challenge enough so you tried the steep steps to the  upstairs in the garage. Ladders came next but we couldn't let gramma know because she would have a hissy fit. Climbing seemed to be your thing and you were good at it.

Everything that  boys did we let you do. You were definitively a girl but you certainly were not a sissy.

Gramma insisted you start school as early as possible.   We figured out how to go about it and we had some good times. I especially enjoyed our time together going to and from school.

We rode bicycles in the neighborhood starting when you were still on a tricycle.  I put a speedometer on my bike about that time and I could not believe that you could ride a mile on a trike and with a top speed of eight miles an hour. We usually stopped because you wore me out.

Then one day gramma told me to take off the training wheels after which she willed you to ride a two wheeler and so you did. A fixie besides. No brakes just you, two wheels and a fixed direct drive.  Magnificent. Within a month you had ridden every bike there that you could reach the pedals on.

Gramma taught you to swim, jump rope, shoot a gun, draw, make fun of me, climb trees, throw and hit a ball, jump on a trampoline, play hopscotch, draw, color, and take care of the animals. I taught you how to use a knife to cut your food, slice your own cheese, throw a frisbee indoors (I still have the tiny frisbee), con an old man, watch classic movies and other important things. I liked being conned. We both encouraged you to read books which seems to be unpopular these days but at least you know how and have the ability.

Then came that awful day when you dad took you away.  After a month we were allowed to talk to you and get visits but it always seem grudgingly.  Then there was the divorce but through all that we still got visits sparingly.  Then when I took you home in May of 2010 we were cut off. No explanation just cut off.  Your parents will not even talk to us and we don't have a clue as to why.  We have been able to talk to you on the phone a few times and so we think you are probably alright but we know nothing for sure. Now we are reluctant to do anything for fear it will get you in trouble.

This birthday  you become a dreaded teenager but I'm sure you are glad as you seem to like growing up.

We are in good health and I am determined to live until you can make you own mind up about seeing and talking to us.

Happy 13th birthday. We'll have the party later.

I love you sweetheart,
Grandpa

In the state of Louisiana grandparents have no rights regarding grandchildren.

Old Fools Journal: Life Is Good

This post card reminds me of my last two trips into the local villages. There was not any gunfire for me but I expect it always.  I think people take a "pissed off" pill before they get into their cars. I even saw a display of  "pissed off" for showing courtesy.  I'm still trying to figure that out. "No good deed goes unpunished" seems to prevail more and more everyday.

I fully identify with Gonzo my favorite muppet

It was a quick and dirty trip to the butcher and the vegetable market. Those two stops were satisfactory as usual and I scored a dozen eggs laid by chickens that walk around on the ground. I've got to get some chickens.

I keep thinking I'll get tired of being responsible for them but I didn't when I was younger and had much less patience with things that interfered with the instant gratification of my desires.  I remember the relief when I gave them away but I also remember the regret because I knew I'd never see them again. The same with the dogs but being in my mid thirties I got on with it and soon forgot by doing what we called "chasing tail" (I don't really remember what that was all about). Forgetting turned out to be a bigger deal than I reckoned with. I still remember them all, including all the tears and joys, as if it were yesterday. There were elements of that time that cause me great pangs of guilt. Even though I made provisions for all the animals I still have the feeling that I abandoned them.  It's a terrible feeling and my only defense is I have vowed to never do anything that can be remotely construed as abandoning again.  That means we can't leave when the hurricane comes and in everyday life someone has to be here to take care of the animals everyday.  Somehow that does not make me feel trapped.  SWMBO (she who must be obeyed) agrees but she still feels trapped for other reasons.

The real score was at the thrift store where I picked up a dozen local grapefruit for two bucks. The grapefruit here is like the satsumas in being sweet and plentiful  I hope the rest of the world never finds out because they are also cheap. I also found a couple of 25 cent shot glasses that just fit my peat plugs for starting cuttings.

The bag of dirt is from Hope, Ark. I figured it must be fertile coming from the birthplace of Bll Clinton.

The firewood fairy left me a pile of gifts along side the road and I did not feel bad about talking fifteen minutes to load up. This is only a small portion of this lovely dry wood much of which is very old hardwood flooring. Apparently someone is replacing their hardwood flooring and probably with Chinese plywood and plastic carpet.  How old is it?

These nails may provide a clue.

It has been warm the last few days reaching 78 degrees F today.  Whilst puttering in the garden digging dirt for the spuds Ms. Oldfool called me over to look at the brussel sprouts which is coming right along in this moderate weather.  I sez to her "them brussel sprouts look a lot like cauliflower". She looked me square in the eye and said "no shit". She has a way with words.  When I brought these started plants home I picked out two boxes of four brussel sprouts each. I only looked at the label and only inspected them for health and signs of damage.  She notice the difference in the plants when she put them out but thought nothing of it. Fortunately we like cauliflower and had just discussed having some so there is no loss.  We will be a little short in the Brussels sprouts department this year. We get near a years supply from eight plants.  Home grown brussel sprouts make us  want to  thow rocks at the frozen kind.

Gramma's portal to the outdoors on a cold winter day.  I took this on a 40 degree F day. The sun was shinning and the tree rats and cats were doing spectacular feats in the tree. The cats get on the roof of the porch (seen in the upper right corner of the window) and also on the porch rail that comes to the right edge of the lower window and stare at us.

If I can ever get around to it I want to make this a bay window.  Since we hardly ever agree on anything I have put it off trying to avoid the stress.
I know she will like it but she will make it as difficult as possible unless she figures it was her idea in the first place.


Except for old male who died after climbing a tree and killing a squirrel we still have all the cats.

Which means we can't have anything else (a mean rooster may help). This is not Halloween decorations, this is the fairly expensive stuff I had covering my chili plants and greens during the last freeze. They must hate it because they spend a lot of time shredding it. Look in the lower right corner for the instigator.
To top it off the youngest dog, the moron, just chewed a hole in the bottom of the canvas saddle bag on my cargo bike.  I may have to rethink the never part of abandoning animals.

To whoever sent me the redone header image for this blog I would like to apologize.  I have not ignored you but you see I have lost the email and the image.  I did not think that possible with gmail but I guess it is. I remembered it  during a bottle of wine the other day but it is gone.

Old Fools Journal: It's Time To Get On With It or This "time machine" is relentless and it makes no stops

The incomplete combustion of burning junk mailThis having no plan and seeking to accomplish nothing is habit forming and quite pleasant but until I can get rid of that nag in my head that keeps at me to do this or that I'll never accomplish being "now" and only now.  I'm closer but I think I'll have to get into that way of life a little at a time.

Since back in November (about when the Xmas music really cranked up)  I have been severely limiting my exposure to "the media". I even stopped listening to the radio which is hard for an old time radio listener. Having no input from those who think that you think they know what they are talking about is nice. Of course it doesn't solve any the problems with life, the universe and everything but it does reduce my stress level to a level I can use. The only worldly inputs I have had of late have been what leaked around the edges. When I go into SWMBO's  (she who must be obeyed) house I hear and see her TV. I have noticed lately that she tunes it to things less likely to cause me bad dreams but it is still there.  I can't seem to find any weather reports that doesn't update me on "the news".  Of course it's not news and mostly it is totally unimportant to anything.  I had to stop reading some of your blogs for a while to cleanse the pallet but some of the bloggers I read are just really good at winnowing out the chafe.  I think you know who you are as I try to comment from time to time to show appreciation.

Things still get through such as the inane childish remarks from adults who would have you think they are wise. Mostly they believe that you can see the kings new clothes even though the King cannot.  Speech makers that think no one will check the facts that they just made up. It makes me tired and worse it turns euphoria to despair. Don't mess with my euphoria.

I'm back to listening and reading only select things reported by amateurs and what we called the "free press" during the sixties. I don't need opinions about who showed some titty on TV or said "fuck" during prime time.  People who worry about these things being a bad influence on the kiddies are really out of touch with reality.

The facts are most grade school children use profanity far more than adults do, most marijuana dealers at the grass roots level are going to high school, sex at twelve was happening 50 years ago as well as now just more of it now (more people more sex), alcohol and tobacco are as popular as ever and adults with their head up their ass can't remember what they did when they were young. Well I can remember and so can SWMBO. Pretending to be a goody two shoes doesn't fly around here.

Aging dirty long haired pinko hippy freak

I finally got off my big butt and had my eyes checked. It had been over 10 years so it was about time.  The last time I bought eyeglass frames was back in the nineties and at that time I bought some titanium frames. They are about 15 years old and still going strong.  The only problem is they outlast the plastic in the nose and ear pieces.  I really got tired of them.  

This time I went back to what I wore in the sixties. What do ya think, huh? 

I'm at the computer now with some low power readers that I've had for over 10 years.  The field of vision is the best with these and they clear up the keyboard or any note I might jot.  It is about 36 inches to the monitor and I can handle that most days without correction. At least today I can. I do appreciate the new glasses outdoors but they are taking some getting use to. 

This is a Jiffy mini hothouse with the top off. those eight plants are tomatoes coming up from seed. The upside down plastic container is a temporary humidity dome over two oregeno and two dill.  The oregano is a perennial so I'm going to try to grow a sturdy plant for the herb garden.  It is going to get crowded here in my hovel by summer but plants are excellent house mates.

I'm worse than an old mother hen with these plants. Only those who experience the joy of sprouting and growing things, be it animal (includes children) or plants, knows the euphoria derived from these endeavors.  I'm surprised it's not against the law.

I get the peat plugs several dozen at a time and use them to start all finds of things.  I'll be doing some cuttings soon and I'm going to try them with that as well.  So far I've had no luck with cuttings so the challenge is on now.  If SWMBO can do it I should be able to as well. It's going on 28 years and I still can't even come close to her soups, pie crusts or gravy.

As you can see these potatoes are  growing quite well without dirt.  I'm making a home for them outdoors in between the cold fronts. I grew a few potatoes last year just 'cause and they were so good I thought I'd try a few more.

The Daily Bread.

Many Don't Have It.

Sour dough fried in butter.

Use sparingly.



Thanks to all those who sent me emails and comments concerning my whereabouts.  You know who you are and now I do too.  Your friendship is priceless.

Old Fools Journal: CENSORED!

The parasites are consistent and constant. They are relentless in their efforts to deny your freedoms. 
Say no to PIPA and SOPA.
I seem to have lost something essential in my mind but I'm sure that it's all there, just a little jumbled.  As soon as I find the key I'll be back.  Actually being an airhead is kind of fun.In the meantime Fuck those who would censure and I don't mean in a loving way.
  

Old Fools Journal: Leaderless or Those who would be leaders seldom are.

We live in illusion and the appearance of things. There is a reality. We are that reality. When you understand this, you see that you are nothing, and being nothing, you are everything. -Buddhist saying-Some years ago while trying to determine who I should vote for I found that I did not have a leader. Not only did I not have a leader but had never had a leader.  By "Leader" I mean someone I could or would follow. It has never happened.  I have been commanded, suggested, bought, ordered and forced but never led. I've seen it in movies and read of it in books but never have I ever experienced it.

I have voted but only for the lessor evil and never for someone I believed in. I have paid attention to those who would lead and found them wanting. I have never found even one whose  presence would make me comfortable. Of those I have voted for, few have won the post and even that few did not win. Their party won.

Of the amendments, propositions, rules and other items on the ballots I seem to always be on the losing side.  I am beginning to think that I am out of step with the "Great Wisdom of the Masses" but when I remember that the "Great Wisdom of the Masses" put George W in the presidents office twice I don't mind.

I have the strangest dreams. I mostly find them entertaining but strange.  Last night for instance I dreamed of sprouting seeds and for a brief moment I experienced great joy because the seeds had sprouted. I have been trying to sprout seeds in my awake state (at least I think I'm awake) and have been having a hard time.  I'm trying to sprout some old seed of various herbs and vegetables and having little success.  I don't even know what some of them are.  The joy I experienced in my dream is enough to keep me trying.

That was not all that was going on last night and this morning.  The dream that got me out of bed this morning was vivid and very clearly in focus. It seemed long but I know that in real time it was most probably a nano second.  It seems that I was in several places at once sitting in the lotus position and that I was trying to determine if I was dreaming or awake.  I was at the beach (specifically Redondo Beach), in a grove of trees (redwoods), at my favorite spot by a stream(existed when I was young but now it exist only in my mind), at a place I know in the Mojave desert (along the Butterfield stagecoach route) and on top of a single mountain (such as Kilimanjaro, Rainier or Fuji).  It ended on the mountain facing the rising sun still with the same question, is this a dream or is this real? I was not disturbed by not finding an answer.

The weird part of this whole episode is that I have never been able to achieve the lotus position in my entire life.  I have tried. If someone tried to make me it would involve torture and I can guarantee there would be a hell of a wrestling match.  I did not think about the lotus position or marvel that I had assumed that position I thought only of "awake or dream". Then my hips started hurting from that unnatural position (for me) and that woke me up (I think).

SWMBO and I are not superstitious because that is "unlucky".  She believes in ghost and I believe that love conquers all. We are both probably wrong but we do believe in having black-eyed peas and pork on the calender day of January one. That comes from being raised in the South probably. Cabbage found it's way in so now we have that too.  It's supposed to be lucky and I suppose it is as I always feel lucky to have such good food that I enjoy so.  We have this same food many times during the year and that is lucky enough.

January one two thousand and twelve was a warm day. I don't know what others did but my bride spent the day preparing wonderful food and she is a master at it. I spent the day piddling around, messing only with what interested me at the moment. After taking a nap it was warm enough (75*F) to have cocktails outdoors with the cats who put on a show for us.  I had no contact with anyone but "her highness" and that was just fine with me.


One of his students asked Buddha, "Are you the messiah?"
"No", answered Buddha.
"Then are you a healer?"
"No", Buddha replied.
"Then are you a teacher?" the student persisted.
"No, I am not a teacher."
"Then what are you?" asked the student, exasperated.
"I am awake", Buddha replied.

Old Fools Journal: News from the Front

The front lines must have been just one street over last night as the artillery and rocket barrages were louder than the night before. It did not appear to be advancing in my direction so I thought to get some rest before we were overrun at dawn. There was mumbling and conspiring going on in the streets somewhere that I could hear but not see.  There was no advance at dawn so the combatants are probably waiting for supplies of ammo, beer and cigarettes.  I trust they will start again today celebrating the end of a bad year and the start of another, that will be just the same as the one ending, by blowing off their own fingers, ruining their ears and setting minor fires. So goes the war against excessive Chinese fireworks imports.

It has been fairly quiet this year but not because of the recovering economy I heard about the last time I listened to the radio. I'm guessing it's not recovering here as I know a number of young men that would like to have a job to no avail. Most of them can read, write (sort of) and  do simple arithmetic. Being a product of public education in Louisiana will not get them a good job flipping (you want fries wit dat) burgers and there is no rock quarry to take up the slack. The ones that have jobs usually spend it all on cigarettes, gasoline and pickup trucks. I never see beer among the young except for the bottles thrown in my yard so I assume they are doing drugs of some kind.   The good jobs stocking grocery store shelves goes to the laid off machinist, engineers and technicians so young men are roaming the streets in this first world country.  That puts them in the positions of being corrected by law enforcement officers which makes jobs in that field. Then with the help of some nine to five judges they fill the prisons so that there is work for the correction officers.  The growing jail industry is so good that our parish president wants to raid the library fund to build more jails.  So there is an upside.

We still need the library so the the teachers from the school next door have a place to go during the day to smoke cigarettes when school is in session but we only need the front of the building and the ash can.  No books are required. Those fat ladies gather around the front door huffing and puffing from the long walk of 300 feet and trying to get as much nicotine as possible in ten minutes. Talk about your "gateway drugs".

I expect the artillery to start again this afternoon once the ceremonial beers have been consumed. It's prudent to have a tin roof here to guard against rocket fire.

As for SWMBO (She Who Must Be Obeyed, my bride) and myself we survived the Jesus dollar days season by mostly ignoring it. We did not do anything and that was nice. We ate good, drank good wine, smiled at each other and managed to stay out of the stores. Staying out of the stores where  you are force fed seasonal music was the best part. In prior years a few hours of that music made me want to commit mass murder. Not this year. Someone else will have to fill in for "the Berserker". Not having seen or heard the "news" in several weeks I am only assuming that somewhere someone went berserk. I'm not going to check but I'm sure I'll hear about it.

I can't remember the last happy Commercial Christmas Holiday that I enjoyed. It has been more that twenty years I guess.  I am a slow learner but this year the decorations, lights, tree, presents and holiday music were not just eliminated they were ignored entirely.  It did not eliminate the stress but it moved it to a very manageable low level. The lack of  after holiday cleanup topped it all off. Instead of cleaning up I had a strong dark roasted Louisiana coffee with Louisiana cane sugar and a heavy shot of brandy.  Santa Claus still swirls around in my head and that communist Jew, Jesus, who I'm sure was a zen master, still influences my life without hindering it or having to believe all the made up stuff.

Good food, good wine and a warm house with loved ones (even the dumb ones) is good enough.

I have not given up writing but lately I have spent more time absorbing drivel instead of spewing it. I haven't found much good to pass on. It's kind of hard to say something amusing about some of the atrocious things people do to each other and to other species. I read and study dirt and the plants that grow in it daily so that when spring comes around I will be ready.

Meanwhile I'm playing with sprouting indoors in preparation with hopes of having some hardy new plants in the spring. Dirt is my friend.

Here is a little explanation of the major religions of the world that I can understand. Examining my meager understanding of man and his religions find this pretty much covers it.   I would give credit if I knew where it came from.

It's 75 degrees F outside so I think this afternoon I will be artisticly carressing some downed tree limbs with a chain saw.

Old Fools Journal: Firewood or How To Store Sunshine

It is a little know fact that Man when speaking shuts down his brain-Tom Swaim A little something came my way over the last couple of days just in the Saint Nick of time.

It's not much but it will do for now. This is "five times firewood". It kept me warm unloading it, it will keep me warm splitting it, it keeps me warm carrying it in, it keeps me warm when it's burning and it will keep me warm when I carry out the ash.

The storing of sunshine in the form of trees fascinates me. Without fail deep profound thoughts come to my mind when I handle it none of which I can remember when I come to write. That's okay because I know that just having those thoughts will give me a star on my life record.



Burning wood is not destruction it is conversion. Turn up the sound to hear this stove making like a rocketThis was a very tall old tree the wind pushed over. It became a nuisance to the people who lived under it  but while it stood they enjoyed the shade without a thought except for when they cursed it because of falling leaves.  To the woodcutter it was just another paying job. To the man who brought it to me it was money to buy a few packs of cigarettes. To me it is sunshine and is still living and providing. The remains of what you see in the stove will go into the yard where there are acorns taking root to replace it in it's growing form. Nothing is destroyed. Life goes on.

Speaking of life, Solstice has come and gone. It appears that those folks that throw the bones and bite the heads off frogs to make predictions have interpreted their findings. They think we get another go around old Sol even though there was no human sacrifice. I do hope I can make better of it in this journey than I did in the last one.

At least I get to start with my favorite fruit. These are the last of the fall tomatoes. Some are going bad instead of getting ripe but I'm eating homegrown tomatoes every day and soon I'll be starting seed indoors for the spring crop. This is not all of them. My hovel looks like a sequel to "The Invasion of the Killer Tomatoes".

These tomatoes have the thickest skin I've ever seen but they are full of juicy sweetness.

I am an amateur but what I lack in experience and know-how I make up for with patience  and perseverance.

Oh boy it's almost lunch time and I am craving fat. It seems I do that in winter. Whatever it will be will have tomato with it.



Knowledge is knowing that tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad. -Jay Johnson

Old Fools Journal: Day of the Long Shadow

35mm taken in 1961 from the deck of a warship Winter Solstice is upon us again and I am glad to see it as usual. I get a twinge of regret and dread in summer at solstice but it is mitigated somewhat with knowing the remaining growing season is about to reveal itself. In my life that has always been more good than bad but after Samhain (Halloween) it's steeply downhill. At winter solstice I have a feeling of hope and elation without fail. It is somewhat subdued this year and I just want to get it over with. I realize that I have many blessings but the fog in my mind makes them difficult to see at times. I know the this too will pass if I grit my teeth enough.

We are under a tornado watch as I write this and it appears that Mother Earth is going to give us something to think about on this Winter Solstice day. The sun that makes us and all we experience on Earth possible started north this morning at 0530 GMT.  At least that is what is advertised but like all other years I will believe it when I see it. Since it is no longer possible for me to throw virgins into the volcano to appease the SunGod there is nothing I can do if it does not.

In my pagan mind I danced naked around the bonfire of last years troubles singing only in indecipherable tongues and grunts during the early morning hours to insure the suns return.  Honestly, this year I would like to have done it in the company of like minded beings of any species but being a "grove of one" makes that unlikely in any year. Maybe next year if I'm still around.

Happy Solstice, Prepare for Spring as it is coming.

Old Fools Journal: A Few Unfortunate Events

A few unfortunate events have occurred in the last couple of weeks that have caused the light in my head to go dark.

This is just one of them. No one was injured. That is not to say no one was hurt. What cannot be seen goes deep.
These events did not happen to me but they affect me. I have nearly shaken the medicine rattle to pieces.  Fortunately it is held together by the unseen.  I spoke to the tree elves, burn incense to the great spirit and finally retreated to the 'dark matter' in my mind. I'll be there for a while.

I was once ask by a friend , while discussing the amount of time I spent without human companionship, if I didn't get lonely? I have thought about that for about 35 years and the answer is No.  It always ends much like the picture above.

I'll not be in an undisclosed location. I will be instead under the bed with the monsters.  It is a safe place.