Oldfool

Old Fools Journal: 28 Years

2012-02-15T19:30:00.001-06:00

...or Nothing to See Here, Move Along.

Yesterday marked 28 years since Her Royal ~~Pain in the Ass~~ Highness SWMBO (she who must be obeyed) and I flew off or eloped in my oily old 1954 Cessna 180 from the wilds of Arizona. Eloped is a stretch as we had no intentions of marriage at the time. We were more involved in being naked, having a few and doing full body massages. I think we gave the full body massage it's full meaning. We didn't do bad on the "having a few" either.

We flew out of Quartzsite, Arizona which is the enema entry point of Arizona. We (we is She, her puppy that bit me the same day and me) took off on the same street in a new development that I had landed on with 5 gallons of gas (count'em five gallons of gasoline in the tank which is about twenty minutes). It's not my favorite place and, in fact, I hope I never see it again.

I think I told the story of "Ms Donna and that Pilot Guy" in an earlier post and when I am next not so fuzzy brained I may check.

So today I went to the Doc to have a look at this arm that was getting better but now has developments I have questions about. This was severely suggested by her, ahem, highness in the statement "get your dumb ass to the doctor before it gets really bad". It had a serious 'or else' quality to it. That was followed by " if you have MRSA don't come near the house".

All I had was a wreck with the wheelbarrow. It wasn't even a wreck it was more in the vein of "let a sleeping dog lie". Well that applies to wheelbarrows as well.

So now I have less money but instead I have some heavy duty antibiotics that would get me arrested if I could not prove they were prescribed by a bonafide Doc. If they don't give me an upset stomach I'll be happy.

Good night all.

Old Fools Journal: Furniture Repair or Expert Wood Butcher

2012-02-10T15:15:00.000-06:00

Edged tools are dangerous things to handle, and not infrequently do much hurt. -Agnes RepplierI found this table without a top at the thrift store and I liked it so I managed to anti-up the seventy five cents it cost and brought it home thinking I would have a glass top cut to fit it. It turns out that glass top tables just "ain't my thang"

nicks and scratches
This is nothing you should
have seen it the first week after
the terrible Wheelbarrow
wreck of 2012.

It has a few nicks and scratches but then so do I (see photo at left) so I think we'll do well together. It's nicks and scratches just give it character. My nicks and scratches have become infected and are giving me way more character than I want. That and way more whining than anyone wants to hear. I have done a great deal of swearing over it as well which I have found works as well as praying.

So I started to look for a piece of cardboard to make a pattern when I noticed in the wood pile some partial sheets of veneer that had only been rained on a little. Since it did not delaminate I assumed it was of good quality.

Taking my trusty razor knife (classed as a deadly weapon by homeland security not to be trusted in the hands of an ordinary person lest they go mad and kill thousands) I commenced to cut. We don' need no stinkin' pattern.

Since this stuff is only 1/8 inch thick it is kind of flimsy. I needed two to glue together. This stuff is too flimsy to use a saw on so I sat in the shop and slowly cut away happy as a clam and probably with about the same amount of brain activity. I managed to make two of approximately the same size and I didn't cut myself once. That is some kind of new record. The gods of woodshop must have taken pity of me because of my current wounds. I didn't show the one on my shin I receive when I crashed through the wood pile but the gods see all. I wish the one that takes care of fools would drop by.

You can see the scrap to left of the table.

This is the high tech gluing and clamping station in the Oldfool Bicycle Shop. Boxes of large lag bolts, nails, screws, a can of wheel weights, fire extinguisher and cat litter I keep on hand because it is nearly pure dry clay. Cats reconstitute it with pee.

I know at least one professional furniture maker reads this blog and I hope he doesn't put out a contract on me for my shoddy work. I get a great deal of pleasure and satisfaction handling wood of all kinds so I must be some sort of pervert. No matter what the outcome, I enjoy handling the wood for my less than professional creations.

Now I need to trim it with the dreaded box cutter then sand it. I'm not big on finish work (80 grit sandpaper is finish work for me now but that is an improvement over the 16 grit it use to be) so as soon as I get rid of the splinters it's done. It will be sealed with whatever I can find. I may just oil it. I have some old motor oil around here somewhere.

The finish will not matter because a day after it is in use you will not be able to see it anyway. The most powerful gravitational force in the universe is an empty table. It is said that "nature abhors a vacuum" and I believe that "nature abhors an empty table as well.

Anybody can become a woodworker, but only a Craftsmen can hide his mistakes.
-Walter Blodget

It is raining steady here in SE Louisiana which is good for the plants and I would not go out in it unless the house is on fire. Make that "I would not go out in it unless the house is on fire or SWMBO needs beer". I just got back.

Old Fools Journal: Overweight and Proud of It

2012-02-08T11:58:00.001-06:00

or I am no longer Obese.
If you want to take five pounds off the weight of your bicycle then lose five pounds of lard from your ass. ~t. swaim

Declared February 7, 2012
I have reached that magic Number between obese and overweight. I have been dallying around that number for over a month but now I have stabilized at or below The Magic Number, no matter what time of day, long enough to feel safe in making the claim.

When I started this effort to change my eating habits and to lose weight at the same rate I had gained it I had finally understood that the fuel I put in has to be less than the fuel I burn if I want to lose. I also dropped the fairy tale of "I'll eat this pie now and walk it off later". That is a fantasy like low-calorie pizza. (I'd rather have one bite of pizza than a whole weight watchers meal)

SWMBO (she who must be obeyed) convinced me that the only way I would succeed is to eat what I like and to write down every morsel that went into my "piehole" and to write it honestly ...and so I did...for four years...and it worked. Now it is habit. It has been a habit for the last two years. The first two years I thought about it a lot but not anymore.

The number that decides whether I am obese or not is based on my BMI (body mass index) which is a derived* through sorcery and presented to me on the intertubesnetpipes. I am not convinced that it is relevant but it was something to shoot for.

It started with "if I could just lose 10 pounds" then when I made that "if I could just lose 5 pounds". The total of lost weight in 4 years is between 34 and 39 pounds but my record keeping of it has been dumped a few times so I'm saying about 35 pounds. Now today I'm back to "if I could just lose 10 pounds". It seems to have cured my chronic back ache and my knees and ankles are loving me these days.

My diet is "everything in small portions" and I mean small. I measure everything so I know the volume, weight and calories. I don't worry about content because I already eat a diet high in fiber, fruits, fresh vegetables, minimum animal products (except for eggs and butter) and we eat seasonably. If It ain't in season we don't eat it. Mostly.

*derived: being somewhere without actually arriving.

As for the photo at the top of the post we are having big trouble with SWMBO's pickup truck. That cat does not seem to think much of our pissy little problems.

knock, knock.
Who's there.
Ima.
Ima who?
Ima 'bout to puke a rod.

Any idiot can face a crisis - it's day to day living that wears you out. -Anton Chekhov -

Old Fools Journal: Roller Skating Naked

2012-02-06T13:58:00.001-06:00

or...Using the right tool on a grapefruit.

There's a catchy title don't you think but it has nothing to do with this post. Magazines I see at the grocery check out use this technique so I'm told. My first clue that editors that do newspaper headlines are a lying lot was when I noticed they often said things that even if it was not an outright lie it was a devious misleading statement.

This post is about a knife and I want you to know right up front that I was not naked when I took these photos. The knife was.

I found this knife at my favorite thrift store for fifteen cents. It's stainless steel with a one third tang and a wood handle fastened with brass rivets. I don't believe it has ever been on roller skates but I could be wrong. It is made in Japan and that means it is an older vintage because even the Japs get there stuff made in China (or any place slave labor is being used) now. It does not have even a spot of corrosion which I believe indicates good quality stainless steel. Stainless does not mean it won't oxidize it just means it will do it less. Stainless means just that, not stainfree.

I had been looking for this knife for a long time. All my adult life I have looked for a better way to cut grapefruit and have made do with everything from a pointy little paring knife to a pocket knife. I believe in tools that fit the job as I demonstrated to my grandson the other day while rehanging a door by using a screwdriver handle for a hammer. I don't believe he was impressed.

You can see that the tip is not pointy but is rounded instead. What you can't see is that it is a smooth knife edge around the tip and back about 1/2 of an inch or 1 centimeter on the serrated side.

This makes cutting along the membrane of a grapefruit or large orange easy. It doesn't snag and it doesn't poke holes in the peeling of the fruit. You may think that is no big 'ting, as we use to say in Hawaii, but as often as not I use the half grapefruit as a bowl while I eat it and juice running down my arm and dripping off my elbow is distracting.

After the pulp is cut from the membrane then the serrated part of the blade combined with the knife's edge on the pointy end makes slicing the wedge loose from the peel easy. I do this in my begging bowl as precaution against removing my thumb.

I can't begin to tell you how good this local fruit is and it is so cheap

A spoon easily removes the wedges of grapefruit. Squeezing the juice from what's left in the peel is all that's left.

Squeezing the peel for juice seems straight forward but it has been my experience with citrus that you must approach it with caution. All citrus just naturally wants to squirt in your eye. I think it is written into physical law that if you don't follow certain procedures you will be punished. I see the whole grapefruit as a sentient being tracking my eye glasses as I approach it. It turns out the it is tracking both my eye glasses and my eyes simultaneously. That means it is airline pilot material. I have tried laying my spectacles on the cutting board to lure the citrus squirts but it just squirted on my glasses and in my eye then on anything that I don't want it on.

Here is how I do it now.
1. Fold the peel flat.
2. Hold over bowl so it is up and down.
3. Starting at the center and proceeding to the bottom squeeze out the juice. If you squeeze toward the top enough juice will squirt onto the counter top and your hand to cover them. All in one squirt. It's like a baby peeing when their diaper is being changed.
4. Turn over and repeat.
5. Dry hands, arms and face. It is not fool proof.
6. Enjoy the fruit.

I know I said I wasn't naked when I took the photos but that was only half true.

While on the subject of grapefruit I present to you the pompelmous or pommelo or any of a half dozen names each spelled in numerous ways. I know it as the pompelmous because I first had one in Tahiti in 1975 and that's what they called it. A pretty young Tahitian lady who was married to an expatriate that we met there took us (my future ex-wife at the time and me) as house guest and this was the first thing served for breakfast. They grew all around there.

This one has been cut already. It's about the size of a cantaloupe or half again as big as our local grapefruit. The sticker glued on the peel says a product of USA.

The extra size is all peel.

The amount of edible is about the same as in our smaller one.
This is the first I've had since then and it is as delicious as I first remember. and worth the slightly extra effort to get the meat out. It is much sweeter than any grapefruit here.

Tahiti was not paradise but this fruit is.
Now I think I'll go have some to go with my banana.

There is a lot more juice in grapefruit than meets the eye. ~Author Unknown

Old Fools Journal: Playing in the Dirt

2012-02-03T09:10:00.000-06:00

You Can Bury A Lot Of Troubles Digging In The Dirt. -unknown-

I was out planting potatoes the other day

and I had help. At least she thought she was helping. She is such a slut.
I don't know anything about planting potatoes but I tried it last year at the wrong time of year. I did that because the potatoes had sprouted and it was plant or compost. Like I said it was the wrong time but I still found enough potatoes for a meal for virtually nothing and I got as much compost as I would have just composting the potatoes.
I was hooked as those potatoes were like candy.

My little galley in the bus is alternately a potting room in the winter. This is the middle of potting tomatoes that I started from seed.
You think this might have something to do with some people not wanting to have lunch with me? Does this taste like dirt or is it just me? Eeuuuu there's a hair in my dirt.

I started eight seeds thinking to pare down to four but I'll be damned if they all didn't take off and do well. I only plan to grow four, two cherry and two of what I think of as standard. I don't know what the cherry is but the larger ones are Rutgers.

This is a week later. I'm not doing anything special other than the light. It's 23 watts and is on all day. I mixed my own potting soil which consist of a very sandy topsoil, cheap potting soil, perlite and fertilizer. They get as much daylight as I do and a little water when dry. Wine is wasted on them. I'll re-pot in 15 gallon tubs after the surprise freeze I'm sure we will have. I prefer 5 gallon buckets for portability but the larger containers keeps the soil temperature more even.
It looks like I'll have four to give away.

The herb and chili garden has Begonias, lettuce, mustard and chickweed in it besides the herb's and chili's now. The chickweed volunteered this year and it is delicious. SWMBO doesn't like it but then she doesn't like spinach either except raw. I think it's because I like it, she's that way you know. This is about the best protected over winter spot on the place but it's not near big enough. The tall green plant on the left is a five foot Jalapeno.

February 1 was a beautiful spring day in the middle of winter and the asparagus is pushing up vigorously. At least one is. I ate it but not until I took a very bad photo. Oh well I can't get another because the asparagus has teeth marks and I don't think I want a photo of it when it reappears.

Unemployment is capitalism's way of getting you to plant a garden.~Orson Scott Card

Old Fools Journal: Life Sketches

2012-01-29T12:03:00.000-06:00

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

2012-01-26T11:49:00.001-06:00

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

2012-01-22T15:55:00.000-06:00

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

2012-01-19T15:03:00.000-06:00

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!

2012-01-18T08:43:00.000-06:00

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.

2012-01-02T10:39:00.000-06:00

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

2011-12-31T12:02:00.001-06:00

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

2011-12-24T12:21:00.000-06:00

It is a little know fact that Man when speaking shuts down his brain-Tom SwaimA 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

2011-12-22T08:23:00.000-06:00

35mm taken in 1961 from the deck of a warshipWinter 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

2011-12-15T11:28:00.000-06:00

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.

Old Fools Journal: Colonel Potter is dead, long live Colonel Potter

2011-12-08T10:07:00.001-06:00

I know there were other officers in charge but Colonel Potter was the most important one to me. That was because he delivered some of the most aggressive messages on war, the insanity of war and the insanity of those who insist on war in the TV series "Mash".

I vaguely remember an interview when he was asked if he thought his performance in "Mash" (a thoroughly anti-war series) changed anything he said in essence that he did not know about that but he did know it certainly changed him. It did not change me but it did cause me (I was already a commie, faggot, pinko, anti-war, peacenic hippy according to some) to think deeply about it and I'm still thinking about it. That character actor (Harry Morgan) influenced how I feel about it today.

Who would think that something so inconsequential as a TV show and a movie would have such an impact on ones life and philosophy?

Here is a song that also helped mold my young mind.

I used to think that those who grew up and matured in the '60's and 70's would bring us into the light but I see that they and their offspring have not done so. They have only deepened the darkness.

Old Fools Journal: December 7 Again....

2011-12-07T08:29:00.001-06:00

Now, what am I supposed to be pissed about? Seventy years is a long time to remember to be pissed off and I think I'll quit. I wrote this last year. Mostly no one knows what I'm talking about and I am starting to doubt that I do as well.

It turns out that we, the good guys, are just as bad as them, the bad guys. I could give examples but I won't.

I thought when I was younger that by the time I got to this age I would be at peace with myself and the universe (whichever one I happen to be in) but I'm not. I am combating that by limiting my intake of stimuli. Even that has limited effect. Lately even reading Zen quotations pisses me off if I am not careful to limit myself to severe disappointment. Severe disappointment is debilitating enough but the alternative leads to anger then hate which gives me indigestion and gas. When I start farting I know I've gone too far.

My goal is to not become a quarrelsome, grumpy old man that reminds everyone of how it was done in "my day". Now is "my day" and I don't much like it but I can't seem make it better. The old "my day" is gone and can never be fixed or returned.

Oh well, life goes on, then you die.

Meanwhile the cats and dogs are bearing up in the cold very well with big fluffy coats and lots of stored fat. They are happy to see us everyday without fail. My plants have not frozen yet and I'm having lettuce and tomato salads flavored with herbs from the garden everyday. I can't seem to eat the greens as fast as they grow.

This lettuce is harvested everyday now and I still can't get ahead of it.

I can only eat mustard about once a week so a 5 gallon bucket of it is enough and Thaddeus bailed on me this year so he is no help. It this does like last year I'll have greens until it gets hot again.

My rice bowl runneth over.

I'm starting more plants indoors (mostly herbs). I know there is a Santa Clause but for children only. If there was one for old men and I could sit on his knee I would ask for a green house big enough to live in.

As you can see here the wood shed is almost bare. Unlike the squirrels and the ants who have been busy preparing for winter I was like the grasshopper and fiddling instead.

God has no religion.-Mahatma Gandhi.

Old Fools Journal: Brrrrrr! or If I was not so lazy I would move south

2011-11-30T11:36:00.001-06:00

We have to abandon the idea that schooling is something restricted to youth. How can it be, in a world where half the things a man knows at 20 are no longer true at 40 - and half the things he knows at 40 hadn't been discovered when he was 20? Author C Clark.

You would think that a man my age would be accustomed to winter having it's way wouldn't you? I know more about surviving winter than I ever wanted but it still gets worse for me and my bride every year. Thin blood I guess. I'm pretty sure that's better than neuritis, neuralgia and tired blood. When I was a kid they had medicine on the radio for that. Of course there was "Carters Little Liver Pills" and Hadacol to fix you right up. Hadacol is the worst tasting wine I have ever had. When that snake oil lost its profitability they come up with the "heart break of psoriasis".
The pharmaceutical companies were just as sleazy then as they are now. Only their greed has grown but that's the way of greed. It must grow or it dies.

That cat is supervising and as soon as I was finished it brought in reenforcements to see how fast they could tear it down.
This is sure sign that winter is upon us that and the fact that the Kumquats are twice as sweet now as they were before we started having these cold snaps. Nothing like cold to sweeten up the citrus.
It has gotten down to 34 degrees F so far so the tomatoes are wrapped. It doesn't help if we have a hard freeze but for the occasional dip to freezing it works. These plants are loaded. They also need to be moved further out into the yard to get more sun. Maybe later.

It's awful hard to lose weight around here. My room mate (SWMBO) keeps bringing me stuff like this. They are hot with the icing still runny. Yesterday it was cookies. I'm still holding at 185 pounds 2 and three tenths ounces but who's keeping track. That's the lightest I've been in 25 years.
I'm snacking on things like radishes, cucumbers and kumquats these days all grown withing a hundred miles of here. We have local turnips now but the potatoes have dried up around here until March. My latest are from New York and I must say they are beautiful. If I can get some seed potatoes I'll plant after the first of the year if I live that long.
The radishes are from Mississippi and they are the crispiest and most delicate flavored I've had in a while. Nothing wrong with Mississippi soil.
I cooked the radish tops with a little salt and vinegar. Delicious.

Poor Alabama crapped their nest with their last legislation to get rid of the Mexicans and they are too dumb to know it. It started coming home to even the dullest when they couldn't get people to pick the tomatoes. The loss in revenue is expected in the billions the first year I've been told but I don't know how to check so that is for what it's worth. You can't renew your drivers license or turn on your utilities without papers to prove US citizenship. I wouldn't go near that place now and if such a law were implemented here I would start packing. Apparently those pure bred, pink skinned, red-necked aristocrats over there are all descendants of the original inhabitants or sprang directly form the soil of Alabama and none came from immigrants. Man and his arrogance never ceases to amaze me. Alabama, the "Your Papers Pleez" state.

That big pile of pallets is about gone.

This wagon load is good for about a night. Oh well there is always the furniture and musical instruments.
I do love my little stove.

I made my regular weekly run into one of the villages that surround us yesterday and I could not believe how few people were out. Did we have the "Rapture" and I missed it? I did notice a reduction in prices of a lot of things that I guess are not moving well. Some things that normally go up this time of year have gone down. Gas is even down to $3.10 a gallon. Not what I expected. Mostly it's all too much and I can do without it. More than prices will have to change before they will get this old skinflint to loosen the purse strings.

I'm at the age where food has taken the place of sex in my life. In fact, I've just had a mirror put over my kitchen table. -Rodney Dangerfield

Old Fools Journal: Misanthropy Aint's So Bad or Coming to grips with some unpleasant truths.

2011-11-26T09:31:00.001-06:00

It would be easier to pay off our national debt overnight than to neutralize the long range effects of our national stupidity. - Frank Zappa
It is time come to grips with the fact that I am a incurable misanthrope. It came to me in a drug and alcohol induced dream in the middle of the afternoon this last week. It's not that I don't like people it's that I trust them to look after their own basic nature. Individually I find some people to mostly be noble and trustworthy but generally most would throw their mother out of the gondola to keep their dirigible from crashing.

I sometimes go weeks with no other conversation than that with my spouse. I would converse with my grandson but his conversation with me is limited to a few grunts and defensive posturing.

Americans seem to think they invented thanksgiving but few see further into history than their own childhood nor can most of them see past their countries borders. The majority can't even see their countries borders. Their view of the outside world is based on whatever is on the TV screen. "I know it's true because I saw it on TV" is ever true in these United States. I actually know a man that gets his facts from the National Inquirer and swears it's gospel.

Few Americans care to understand other cultures and it has gotten so bad that some worldwide periodicals (Time being one) tailor their stuff to send into the American bubble. If you don't know what I'm talking about it doesn't matter. If you do, good, I think.

That crispy skin on the turkey is delicious.
Since we have no family or socializing friends we pretty much don't do much at Thanksgiving and christmas. SWMBO (she who must be obeyed) nearly always boils a turkey in oil (deep fried) mainly because this is the time of year that turkey is cheap.
Thanksgiving was always celebrated in both our families and we did it for years because of inertia. SWMBO still does a lot of cooking but only about a third of what it use to be and I suspect next year, if we last that long , it will be even less.
Thanksgiving day to me means it's less that a month to winter solstice when the sun is at it's lowest point. It's an anxious time because if the sun doesn't start back soon then virgins have to be thrown into the volcano to entice it. I would throw myself in but even though I feel like a virgin the sun god knows different.

When I went to get some things from the engine room the other day I found that our Shell Plant had invaded and was growing fine in the dark. It had a hatchet and a sledge hammer but I manage to subdue it in hand to hand combat. I started by swearing at it until it got kind of wilty.

It's surprising how much heat I can get out of a single palletFirewood pickings are a little sparse this year. As you can see in the photo I am cutting up unusable pallets for the stove. They will do for now and I will be waiting for the firewood Gods to provide.
The jeans I'm wearing I have had for more than thirty years and most of that time they have been too small. Now they are too big. Without a belt they stay around my ankles.
This is one of the few chores I don't do in a kilt (modern, causal, work, polyester type). That little chain saw can put sawdust and chips in dark crevices and cracks that no one ever sees. It becomes uncomfortable quickly.

I took a mug shot on black Friday when regular people were out pepper spraying and tasering each other while combative shopping. It may appear that I am deceased but there is a twelve year old boy very much alive in there.

From the day before thanksgiving until the week following I do not even go out. This year even the day before was iffy and that was just in traffic and at the grocers. It's no wonder I have misanthropic tendencies. Next year I'm moving the "no shop" day up by one.

My christmas shopping is done. A good word done, it rhymes with none. The economy will have to depend on someone else. If I can't afford teeth then I can't afford christmas.

In the spirit of christmas someone stole my broken turtle shell from next to my front door this last week in broad daylight. It's no big loss but it hurt my feelings.
*christmas not capitalized on purpose"
The tomatoes are racing the cold toward completion. You can see a couple of red ones here. I have been eating them for 5 or 7 days now and they are delicious. When these are done that's all until next spring. I'm trying to buy fruits and vegetables only in season now. I have two tomato seasons here, spring and fall. I'll start sprouting some seed in January with hopes of getting some stout plants growing by March. Otherwise it will be canned tomatoes which I really like so it's OK..

Louisiana is not thought of as farming country by the more civilized states but everything I need is grown or caught here. Now if we could just get these goddamn oil companies out of here before they screw it up worse than they already have.

Free Bradley Manning.
He has done more for transparency in government than any politician.

Old Fools Journal: Again? or Seems my life is on a continuous loop

2011-11-22T12:03:00.001-06:00

"We are
Born like this
Into this
Into these carefully mad wars
Into the sight of broken factory windows of emptiness
Into bars where people no longer speak to each other
Into fist fights that end as shootings and knifings
Born into this
Into hospitals which are so expensive that it’s cheaper to die
Into lawyers who charge so much it’s cheaper to plead guilty
Into a country where the jails are full and the madhouses closed
Into a place where the masses elevate fools into rich heroes"
— Charles Bukowski

Forty eight years ago today John F. Kennedy was killed by a man with a gun. He was the President of the United States at that time for those of you who are history challenged. His problems were over at that moment and his killer's problems were ended soon after with another bullet. His killer's killer's problems got worse but he didn't make it four years. He died of lung cancer I'm told. Much of that time was spent in court. I wonder if he was so primitive that he still celebrated his killing.

I know exactly where I was that day. Do you? I was in my first year of college at the Northrup institute of Technology in Inglewood, California and at the time the death bullet left the rifle I was learning to program a rudimentary computer the size of a large building with punch cards.

Politics was not my strong suit then and I just barely knew who the President was but it was a strong blow that brought on heavy emotions and changed my life in subtle ways that I have never sorted out. Like the rest of the so called civilized world I grieved for the family. Even though they were very rich they had been touched by something that makes us all equal. Wealth does not make grief better.

Things went on. I had a life to lead with my own family of nearly five years but my thoughts changed and I became more interested in how political things work. I developed a strong dislike of the Dallas Police and they became a synonym for police fuck-ups. I found that a lot of people hated other people so strongly that they celebrated their death even though the death of one changes nothing physically. What it does inside the head of the individual is another thing altogether. I found that I did not hate which at first I thought to be a failing. I found that my aversion to killing was not a bad thing and did not make me a sissy.
I started a dialog with myself that has not yet ended.

To Protect and To Serve
(Origin of the image is unknown. If anyone knows please contact me)

They were protest in those days and the brutality of the police was pretty much the same as today because those dirty long haired, pinko, communist, socialist hippies had to be stopped before they corrupted the world, killed if necessary. It's still the same today only now it's the children of the beaten that are doing the beating of the dirty long haired, pinko, communist, socialist hippies.

I still wonder why Nazi uniformed shave head types (sometimes disguised in business suits which is another kind of uniform) that smell of dial soap mixed with sweat always seem to think that peaceful protesters are dirty.

Old Fools Journal: Yes I Am A Vet and No I am not a hero

2011-11-11T09:25:00.001-06:00

I recently found out that the United States Government considers me a war Veteran. It's based on dates I served. Before that Social Security gave me a small extra pittance because all of my service was aboard a war ship and to those deciders it's the same in peacetime as in wartime.

First on this one.

Then on this one.

It was just a job and I never was shot at. I had it better than a homeless vet has now. I was not a hero and I shirked my duty as much as any other sailor. I did the job I had agreed to do and was only AWOL a couple of times. It was not patriotism that caused me to join or stay. I joined because I was 19, bored and it was the easiest way to get out of El Paso, Texas. I was active for four years and one day. I separated honorably. It was a great adventure.

Don't thank me as I got back more than I put in. Give your thanks to those like my father and my uncles that fought in the last real war. That was WW2 if you have forgotten. Give your thanks to those that managed to survive wars made up by old political white men and then get shit on by the government when they are used up. Give you thanks to those who volunteer and serve and don't rise in rebellion when they are not supported by those same old political white men. Don't thank the dead as they no longer care. Thank the living and thank your lucky stars more of the injured don't go berserk and kill out of frustration.

Old Fools Journal: Fall Garden or You call that a garden?

2011-11-09T12:00:00.001-06:00

Gardening is cheaper than therapy and you get tomatoes. -unknown-
This video was made September 25th and forgotten until today.

Of course things have grown a great deal.

I did get a few shots yesterday while picking my salad for lunch. Near the end of this Oct 17 post I featured the beginning of this endeavor.
At this end of the salad bar a little lettuce. There is some baby spinach in there as well. The seed packet cost 33 cents two years ago.

Then on to the new very tender and still sweet spicy mustard. We have been picking this bucket already for salads and I had a mess of it simmered for lunch a few days back. It is hardly touched. I plan to have it again today for lunch as it really needs to be thinned out. If it does like last year I should have mustard until spring if I'm careful. What are the chances of that?

Then on to the snow peas. They didn't produce like I'd hoped but I planted it all over the place as an experiment. I only have gotten about a third of what I should but now I know how it works and what to do. I'm still getting peas and we have already had several meals with these little dandies as a side dish. I call them my candy bushes.
I'm hoping to outwit the snowpea gods in the spring.

With the addition of some homemade celery salt, fresh ground pepper and some local homegrown tomatoes the salad was delicious. I may have to do it again today.

The tomato plants are loaded. This is of one of the cherry tomato clusters. It is near life size. The regular tomatoes are of a smaller variety with hopes of at least getting full grown green tomatoes. I'm hoping that the first freeze holds off long enough for some to ripen but if they don't no big deal I'll ripen them indoors and some will get fried green. The rest will be pickled.

All this stuff is in buckets except for the sage and Brussels sprouts. I used the cheapest store bought soil I could find because I was too lazy to go dig up some of the garden. There is no reason for anyone to not have fresh greens, chilies and herbs. There are failures to be sure but the successes are worth it.

The temperature is dropping and I'll soon have a fire going and that's OK as I intend to withdraw into the infinite depths of my navel to contemplate the meaning of life, the universe and everything.

When weeding, the best way to make sure you are removing a weed and not a valuable plant is to pull on it. If it comes out of the ground easily, it is a valuable plant. ~Author Unknown

Old Fools Journal: Dream Flying

2011-11-07T08:59:00.032-06:00

Knock on the sky and listen to the sound. ~Zen Saying

I sometimes have dreams about flying which is not surprising since I did it for 45 years amongst other things of lessor significance in my life. These dreams however are mostly of difficult situations. A lot of them involve flying down streets with wires above or in the forest with tree limbs above and looking for a way up. I never crash and I'm never fearful of crashing in fact there is never any fear involved.

A crash is a hard landing that causes property and personal damage. If the aircraft is still usable and the pilot and passengers can still walk away it is not a crash even if it is in an area too small to fly out of.

I once owned these two or maybe I should say they owned me. Even though I flew both around the U.S. and into Mexico quite a bit they never show up in my dreams. The machines in my dreams are usually generic however I had a spell some years ago when it was always a Boeing 720 doing impossible things. Now that was fun and I woke up with the afterglow of having fun. This photo is a scan of a 33 year old kodachrome print taken at Gillespie Field, El Cajon Calif.

The reason for these dreams is unknown to me as I have never had any sort of fear of flying. I've flown high and I've flown low with no apprehension in either case. When at 20,000 feet without oxygen I was aware of symptoms of hypoxia and the need for more oxygen so I did what it took to get more. When under 500 feet the airplane still flies the same but the pilots perception changes. Once you get past that it is just as comfortable as at a higher altitude. Crop duster friends and pipeline inspectors are pretty nonchalant about flying close to the ground. Towers become important and the lower you go the higher the traffic volume of things such as bicycles, cows, rail crossings and such. Until you get below the distance of the airplanes wingspan it pretty much performs the same as at 10,000 feet. Take into account that I said "pretty much" in that statement. There are some differences and there are some real differences above 45,000 feet especially when you approach an area called coffin corner.

I've taken a lot of chances flying in my lifetime and survived them all through pure dumb luck. It didn't matter that I had quick reflexes and that I just happened to make the right move at the right time it was still dumb luck. When I was young I thought I was the best until one day another asshole did it better and I've never made that mistake again. I've never thought I could walk on water. I'm satisfied with competent now.

My maternal grandfather stopped driving when he was 65. He said he was not good enough to continue and that he just put everyone else in danger. I always respected that and wanted to be as smart as he was was. While I still consider my driving to be safer now than ever before because I give it my full attention at all times I would not do it for employment again. That would require everyday operation and involve fatigue and boredom the very enemy of safe anything. My flying became unsafe in my estimation when 90 percent of what I did was with muscle memory unencumbered with the thinking process. I often could not remember what I had done two minutes before. I just wasn't there. I started making mistakes in judgement not because of bad judgement but because of no judgement. Anyone of those without dumb luck and I would have been a goner.

There is only one thing I did not and still do not like about flying is the noise. It is incredibly noisy. In my dreams it is always silent. I attribute that to the wonderful mysterious workings of the the mind. I am thankful that mine works that way.

I still go to those places depicted in the photos at the top of this post but I don't take an airplane with me.

- - -

Today is my moms birthday born in 1918. I don't have anything to say about that except I have to be the luckiest son ever born to have such a mom. She would be 93 today. Happy Birthday mom.
Photo is a scanned kodachrome taken in 1988, Hunstville, Tx with a cheap camera
-30-

Old Fools Journal: Deadly Cats or I'm glad they don't weigh 500 pounds

2011-11-05T12:12:00.001-05:00

I witnessed something a few days ago that I have never seen before. I have watched dogs and cats hunt in the past and some are quite good at it but I have never seen cats hunt in the trees. I don't mean among the trees I mean up in the tree tops.

Arrow points to squirrel harvesting acorns
Lately I have witnessed our cats working together or fighting together up in the tree tops.

This last incident however takes first place. One of the cats we took in when Thaddeus Babin passed was a big orange cowardly walking appetite. I guess he got hungry. He went up the tree like a rocket and grabbed the squirrel that was giving him shit and hauled it's screeching kicking ass down to the ground. By morning there was nothing left but the tail. If this is the whole tail then the squirrel was a juvenile and there were two juveniles that have now gone missing.

So it goes.

It has been raining acorns for over a month now. Since we have lived here these oaks have dropped their leaves in the spring but have remained green year around. I understand that this far south they do that and further north they act more like other deciduous trees. Our experience has been acorns falling every other year. This year has been different. It has, at times, literal been raining acorns sometimes it is a downpour and sometimes it is just a drop now and then. I don't believe that 10 minutes has passed without at least one falling.

This is the tree I live under and the
tree of the great squirrel slaughter.

Yesterday evening, two days after the killing, Sonny Boy was found dead in his favorite spot next to the food dish.
So it goes.

The photo below is the two treetops
that are raining acorns on my roof. There are four others in the yard. According to my neighbor these trees were here when the house was moved here over 50 years ago. I can just imagine the drama that has happened in and a round them.

I have much more I want to share today but my eyes have been going south on me and today they seem to be just over the horizon. I can't focus either eye very well with the right being worse than the left. Just one more thing on the list of things that make me not recommend old age.

Life is still good.

Old Fools Journal: Happy Samhain* or Have a happy pagan new year

2011-10-31T17:21:00.001-05:00

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.
Say this aloud only if you mean it
but beware, there are consequences even without
the cauldron and it's ingredients.

Imagine three witches around a bubbling cauldron saying these lines.
Witch 1 - Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.
Witch 2 - Thrice and once, the hedge-pig whin'd.
Witch 3 - Harpier cries:—'tis time! 'tis time!
Witch 1 - Round about the caldron go

In the poison'd entrails throw.—
Toad, that under cold stone,
Days and nights has thirty-one;
Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i' the charmed pot!

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.
'excerpt from Shakespeare's Macbeth'

Only a few of the 7 billion hoomans on Earth that have heard this know it is Shakespeare or even that there was a Shakespeare but these lines have given many of them a thrill or a chill just the same. I don't remember when I first heard it or read it but it certainly gave me a thrill and a chill.

I was an adult before I knew who Shakespeare was. I was exposed to him in school but I didn't know. I was an even older adult before I saw Hamlet and that was on film. I have never seen the play I am sorry to say. The images that play at the drive-in theatre in my head come from Walt Disney's cartoons. The cauldron and those witches were permanently etched into my memory tablet. I finally read it and found I knew the story as it is a universal story that is used often in daytime and night time soap operas.

The part with the witches is my favorite and I always think of it at Halloween.
I am not a superstitious man but the thought of someone making a curse of double toil and trouble I find frightening.

The temptation to say those lines with someone in mind has been a temptation that I have struggled to resist. As far as I know there is no way to take them back and I fear the consequences of backlash.

To find that someone said those lines in my direction with my name on it would hurt me so I guess spells do work. It doesn't matter that it requires the spellee's cooperation as we seem to give it willingly.

I read the "witches chant" once a year and it gives me goosebumps still.

We have no children so there will be no bonfire tonight and no sacrifice, animal or human. Even though we have plenty of cats none will be sacrificed.

*Samhain (sow-un)is a Celtic celebration older than even the thought of the Johnnie come lately God based religions.

"It is bad luck to be superstitious." - Andrew W. Mathis