The Laughing Wolf

Congratulations Soggy Wolfie!

It is with great pleasure that I tell you all that Soggy Wolfie has earned her BSc. J. degree and has been accepted into a master course in England. Drop on over and congratulate her.

LW

A Quick Thought

All in all, it has been a sucky week for writing and writers in this world. And while we are richer for those who are gone, the leaving bites hard and big.

LW

Catching Up

It has been an interesting couple of days. The good thing that has come from this is that I am getting back in touch with people, some friends, again when things had drifted.

I have also been ordered not to die. I am not to go off by myself, be found in front of the computer, be in an auto accident, or anything else. Of course, I am now trying to figure out if this is just because they want the pleasure of doing me in themselves or not...

There was something else I was going to write, something profound and witty, and now I don't have a clue what it was. I am still dragging a bit after last week, and while I can and will perk up and do for a while, it also means I tend to drift when I slow down. More soon, as I have some good things to say about some local establishments at the least. :)

LW

Instapundit Family Reunion?

Sorry for lite posting, and am way behind on e-mail (will be working on it, not ignoring you, just busy) and such. More soon.

Meantime, I had a wonderful Monday evening when I was invited out to join a group for dinner. I had a great time, even though I thought it was an Instapundit family reunion:

"Get off my hobo!"

"My hobo is on fire!" "Well, you shouldn't have thrown it onto the flames..."

"Can we shrink wrap the hobos?" "Nah, already done in Blade III"

"My food, mine!"

As for me, all I can say is that my hobo was very tasty, and it and the company much appreciated.

LW
who was informed Sunday that his purpose in life is to be lawn furniture for wolves; and, who found out tonight that the orchestral part of "Jabberwock" by the Cruxshadows (Tears, and thanks again for the gift!) times beautifully for being chased by wolves...

I'm Happy

A lot got done here at the lair this weekend, even if such did negate my desired restful weekend. I will share a bit of it with you later this week, but for now, I simply want to thank Bloodspite for the Kentucky product with which he graced me. For I mixed it a while ago with fresh mint and powdered sugar, so that I could have a mint julep on this bleeping hot evening. It was good. I am happy. My blood pressure is coming down. Now to see if I did that laundry...

LW
oops...

Whew

Whew. Things are going, and I hope that the light I see is the end of the tunnel and not yet another train. This year has seen me help an entity start what we hope will be a major subject matter blog; redesign a WWW site, which has entailed my starting to learn about coding and more; a complete re-do of all that entity's publications; assisting with some electronic newsletters; and, also doing a number of smaller jobs. It is an interesting time, to be polite.

Meantime, at the Lair, I have done some serious yard work; put in a garden; decided which of the major projects that needs to get done will get done and when; and, tried to cope with an explosion in the rabbit population. In fact, I have a new best friend I will share with you, Hasenpfeffer.

Still tiny, still thinks that if you sit perfectly still no one can see you, even when you are in the middle of the road or, better yet, on the patio. Foolish enough to let me get within 4-5 feet... Still considering names for the older relatives, have so far only come up with Jugged (as in Jugged Hare), need to hit the cookbooks a bit.

More soon.

LW

A Delightful Weekend

My friend Waldo came to visit this weekend, and I certainly enjoyed myself. I think the proof that we both needed some time to relax and unwind showed up in both of us taking a nap Saturday afternoon after lunch, and the fact that neither of us was truly game to get up early on any day.

She reminded me that we have now known each other for more than ten years. We met online, through an online writer's list that a friend forced me to sign up for at the point of one of my own guns. That's my story and I'm sticking to it... The list was full of interesting people and more than a couple of good writers. Indeed, a couple of the members have gone on to be published and successful authors (no sneer of mere midlist writer from me, and on the off chance the originator of that phrase does stumble by, bite me). That list also went from online to real-life, as some semi-regular meetings were held that brought in people from around the world. Some truly delightful people, ones I miss seeing to this day. The catalyst for the list departed, and it is a mark of how special it was that the list not only survived, but remained robust and productive for several years after.

All such good things end, and a good bit of the weekend was spent playing catch-up. What have you heard about so-and-so, where's Waldo (couldn't resist), and who is the latest to be published. A lot of good memories to go on top of a nice weekend, icing on the cake indeed.

Saturday was largely spent talking and resting, and Sunday found us outside picking up limbs and burning up my brushpile. Lunch was s'mores made with bittersweet chocolate instead of milk chocolate, for a delightful and healthy lunch. At least it was by the time we got through justifying and rationalizing. Supper was hamburgers cooked on the grill, and I sent her home with some smoked chicken breast (chicken marinated in orange juice from Friday night to Sunday morning, then covered with macadamia nut oil and a bit of truffle oil, then a spice mixture) and some beef (brined in molasses, water, salt, vinegar, and a touch of spice for the same time, then a good rub applied) smoked for several hours (and brushed with macadamia nut oil on the odd occasion). We both picked up a bit of sun, but it was worth it.

Add to that various bits of good news that came in (friends safe, my relative E finding out that the cancer has NOT spread to the brain, etc.) and I shed some stress. I hope Waldo did too, even if she did find the house a bit cool for her tastes. Hey, I was nice, I finally did cut the heat up.

This weekend: just what was ordered.

LW

I Am Alive

Just have been very busy at work this week and have company this weekend. More soon.

LW

The Only Thing Worse

Than bodies are parts. Parts no longer fresh. Nuff said.

LW

Being A Real Friend Today

Friends help you move
Real Friends help you move dead bodies

LW

Some Thoughts On A Marine

Crossposted on Blackfive

There are a number of things going on in my life right now, some of which have prevented me from posting or commenting as I would like. One of them in particular, along with this discussion sparked by Army Wife Toddler Mom, has helped bring back some memories of a Marine -- my Dad.

I will keep it short today, for to tell his full story is a thing for a book. What I will share is just a bit of his time in the Marines.

Dad was born in the early 1900's, just in time for the family to be devastated by the Great Depression. They kept the country house and farm, and lived there, but there was no money for any luxury, including college. At the recommendation of some family friends, including I believe one in Congress, Dad enlisted in the Marines so he could apply for the Academy and a college education. All was on track, and the tests showed that he would be in the upper ten percent of his class, when someone deliberately delayed his paperwork such that he was two weeks too old for the cutoff in place at the time. Not even Congressional pressure could do anything about this, and the episode left Dad with no love for or trust in high command.

In the tradition of the Corps and his family, he shut up and did. A good shot by Southern standards, he earned Marine marksman qualifications with rifle, pistol, and (eventually) BAR. He was good enough that he did competition shooting for the Corps, even unto National Match level.

It was there that one of my favorite stories derives. When I was small, I did the typical boy thing and made some comment about "gurls" not being able to shoot. This earned the ire of my Mom, who was the first woman on Mercer University's rifle team, and a story from Dad. He told me the story of the "Girl From Texas."

It was on the long-distance (1,000 yard?) range, and the competition was down pretty much to Dad and this woman, who was I think younger than Dad. Dad was just getting ready to take his shot when she shot, and the signal for dead bull came up on his target. Dad immediately halted, called the range master over telling him he had not shot. As his gun was being inspected and his not having been shot verified, she called out that she had shot, check the target. Maggie's britches flew at her target, and the sign for dead bull once again flew on Dad's. Yep, she had shot the wrong target, dead center. Her mastery of invective impressed Dad, who I think learned some new ones when she cut loose. From what I remember of the story, that is how he did beat her -- that one shot.

Dad was also the sole survivor of a training accident that first time through. On his cruise, he and his mates were called out onto the deck of the battleship they were on for a naval gunnery demonstration. It was one of the small guns, a 5-incher I think. Dad was standing in formation behind one of his best buddies in the group, a big red-headed fellow who was larger than Dad in every dimension. A good thing for Dad, as the gun blew, and Dad came to hearing someone grab him and say "This one is dead too, brains all over." They were all over, just not his, but his friend's who's body had shielded him such that he lived. I found out about this one day after Dad met a former buddy of mine, who reminded him a lot of his long-lost friend.

When his hitch was up, he left the Corps and went back into the world. When WWII came, he was working for Hercules Powder as a foreman, which was a draft exempt job. Dad's boss, however, kept only getting temporary deferments for him. Dad told him that either make it permanent or he was going back in to fight. His boss didn't, Dad did, despite having a wife and trying to start a family.

Dad had to laugh, sort of, when talking about going in. He went in and started the process, and was startled when the man told him he could pick what service he wanted. Dad had figured that there was no choice, given prior service. His memories of before were not good when it came to high command, and he had some reasons to want to fight in Europe, so he -- on impulse -- asked for the Army. Nope, no can do, full up for Army today. Well, in that case, give me the Navy. Nope, no can do, full up for the Navy today? Then what's left? Marines! Step right this way. He made the comment one time that the process felt oddly like coming home...

Because of prior service and prowess at hitting targets, Dad was assigned as a marksmanship instructor in San Diego. How he and his wife ended up living next to Joan Crawford is a story for another day. For now, I will just note that those days were why Dad swore Gomer Pyle USMC was a documentary, not a comedy. No place on a range was safe when some of those kids got their hands on a firearm (much less a grenade).

One day on the range, he and the other instructors heard an announcement over the loudspeakers. Marine snipers were urgently needed, and the following people had volunteered. He and several other instructors heard about their volunteering for the first time as they listened.

Dad packed his wife back to her family and found himself headed into combat. When he arrived in Hawai'i, he saw a notice on a bulletin board for a bodyguard and orderly for a Navy officer. The requirements were close, and knowing that his mission was in effect a suicide missiion, he decided to apply.

The officer who interviewed him grilled him pretty hard. When Dad listed his prior orderly service, the man growled at him "Are you a goddam retread?" "Sir, yes sir, I am a goddam retread Sir!" Dad was quite happy to distract him, as his prior orderly service had been for the captain of the battleship, and was his convalescent duty for all of about two weeks after the gun had blown. The man told Dad he was everything they could want, and more. Would he like to meet the man he was to guard and serve? Sir yes Sir. The man went and knocked on an adjoining door, opened it, and said "Admiral Spruance, would you like to meet your new orderly?"

This led to some interesting times for Dad, including sleeping on the Hiroshima bomb. For today, that is it. This month marks both his birth and his death. Thanks for reading and letting me share a few memories of a man who loved his fellow Marines with the same passion he hated high command, and who taught me a lot of very valuable life lessons and skills.

LW

I Do Empathize

Army Wife Toddler Mom is having trouble with a stubborn father. Believe me, I can empathize.

Dad was many things, among them stubborn. That can be a good thing, and it can be a bad thing.

When he was younger, it meant not letting a little thing like an axe in the leg slow him down. As he got older, well...

He was at work one day (after his 70th birthday, I might add) when he began to feel bad. He kept going, until he more or less collapsed and required an ambulance. Turns out that a group of emphysema cysts had gotten together on his lung and blown out, collapsing his lung and him. Had the lung not dropped, I suspect he would have just kept going. Several surgeries later to fix that and prevent others, he was unceremoniously fired for not being able to come back to work and do all he had before. It was also during this time that he did something that let us know what was to come.

Mom was supposed to go on a school trip to Ireland and England, as one of the chaperones. She started to cancel, and Dad argued that she should go. After all, it was paid for and the doctors all swore that he would live until she got back, and on and on. Mom ended up going, after putting up pre-made meals, arranging for people to check on him, take him to the grocery or wherever as needed as he was not yet cleared to drive, and so forth.

Dad saw her off like a good Marine, chin up, and played the goodbye scene just right. Then, as soon as he knew she was gone and the ride not coming back (an hour or so), he hopped in the car and drove to the local Nu-Way hotdog stand for a delicious and deadly chili dog...

There was a big list of no-no's for him, and I think he took it as a challenge. He evaded, bribed, intimidated, possibly man-handled, or otherwise dealt with his keepers to do many of them. None of the truly big things, but he chipped away at the list a little at a time with yard work, garden work, and more. He knew he could do, and would not accept otherwise, and was also determined that Mom and everyone else know he could as well.

In later years he got very devious and sneaky for evading the full effect of doctors. After we lost Mom, it got worse. Worse to the point that he had problems, and refused to deal with them. It came to a head one day when he had a series of small strokes -- and made a pot of coffee, sat at the kitchen table, drank it, and cried for most of the day. He was scared of the change, of not being able to do, and the future. He was also very unaware of how things had changed in terms of treatments, fortunately his girlfriend and I were not.

It took some effort, especially as we could not trust the only other relative around who could help (long story) to assist, but we worked things so that Dad invited me to move back home to help me out. Had to be that way, you see, as Dad needed no help at all. I put my life and plans on hold, and invested all I had, into a year with him. First up was getting blood pressure and other under control. His girlfriend (who I often refer to as my stepmom, though she legally was not such) got him to his "real" doctor (his GP was useless IMO). This took some effort, but when the Big Mick examined Dad, he was furious. So much so I thought I was in danger, but it was just how much he wanted to thrash/paddle Dad. It worked in that it did intimidate Dad into following most orders, and we were on the road to getting things stabilized. Not to say that there were not some issues with blood thinner and more, or other problems, but we got things to a point where all could be reasonably happy.

Dad continued to push things a bit, which was a good sign for him. When he got back on his feet, I resumed my life and let him have his again. I knew he was pushing, but I also let him do so. To be honest, as much as some of it bothered me, it also amused me and I felt all was right with the world. If he had dropped dead plowing or working his garden, he would have gone happy. We bought him a year of life on his own, not existence, but living.

The end did come, and I was called home because there had been a serious problem. His doctor did what he could, but when we brought Dad home from the hospital to a house that had been handicapped accessed, and he realized that he would have to be cared for 24/7 for the rest of his days and would not be able to go and do, well, he was gone in about four days. In some ways, it still hurts to think of those final days and the end, yet, I also almost always laugh. When I called hospice to let them know that Dad had died at zero-whatever-hours, the person at hospice let out this anguished yelp of "But we just got him!!"

Yes, having a parent or other do what seems to be foolish things is never fun, and is great for getting up the blood pressure and such. Yet, at the same time, I understand why they do so far better than I ever did before. It is a good sign, if you care to think of it that way. As long as they push, then they want to live, not exist. When they stop pushing, that is a bad sign.

If you are in this situation, it is not fun, but enjoy it while you can. It is far better than the alternatives.

LW
yes Tammi, I do come by it honestly...

If You Would Be So Kind

I have a lot of things I want to post and do, but work and life have other plans. I do hope to get to them soon, but in the meantime, if you would be so kind, I would apprecate thoughts and prayers for the best for the relative I mentioned the other day. "E" as I will call them, went to M.D. Anderson Cancer Center, which found that the adenocarcinoma is in both lungs, not just one. Along with the fact that it has metastisized into the pelvis and most likely further, and, well hope was for some better news. E faces some tough choices right now, so my thoughts are for what is best and right for them. My thanks in advance for your thoughts and prayers too.

LW

I Really Should Not Have To Say This

But if you get an e-mail purportedly from a bank or credit card company, promising you a chance to win $20.00 if you just take the time to fill out this wonderful survey, and you get it multiple times (and most likely from multiple IPs and with slightly different return addys), just say no. If you don't, don't come crying to me over what happens...

LW

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Corned beef simmering? Check
Cabbage ready to steam? Check
Stout? Check. Re-check. Check

Enjoy your day.

LW

This Be The Life

It is snowing and pretty out. My new cafe-au-lait scented candles arrived last week, and three are currently filling the upstairs of the lair with light and scent. I have taxes to a point that I can send them to the accountant, and pray that I get money back this year. There are other bits and pieces that make life good. Plan to enjoy it as much as I can the rest of the day.

LW

The Odd Things One Learns

Whilst under the weather. Kosher salt, sprinkled into ginger ale, foams up just like Alka Seltzer.

LW

A Few Interesting Tidbits I've Run Across

by the English Werewolf:

I've been doing my usual semi-random following of links these past few days, and have found a few interesting little items that might also interest one or two of you.

The first is a story published by the Scotsman, newspaper of Edinburgh, UK. Francis Fukuyama, writer of the book "The End Of History," and one of the founding fathers of the neocon movement, has publically stated that the whole neocon thing has "evolved into something I can no longer support", and that it's now time to tear the whole thing down. According to the article, Fukuyama believes this failure has demonstrated "the danger of good intentions carried to extremes" -- and in regards to the Iraq war, "Although the new and ominous possibility of undeterrable terrorists armed with weapons of mass destruction did indeed present itself, advocates of the war wrongly conflated this with the threat presented by Iraq and with the rogue state/proliferation problem more generally."

He says that the radicalized elements of Islam are a byproduct of the modernisation of Islamic societies. Not to put myself on the same intellectual level as Mr. Fukuyama, but I'd long been thinking that Islam seems to be entering their own version of the "crusade" period that Christianity went through starting in 1096. Just as with the Christian fanatics, only a small percentage of those claiming the faith are involved in the atrocities, yet it poorly reflects on all members of the faith. Let's just hope Islam doesn't take 250 years to work through this phase!

The story's here.

The other two links I've been holding on to for the past couple of days are actually related. Ever since the State Of The Union, I've been waiting for Big Oil to "disappear" the President, who has publically uttered the "E" word.

Ethanol.

Of course, they probably aren't too concerned, because W seems to believe that this is a future technology, inevitably approaching, but somewhere just in front of the Hydrogen world he's previously promoted. While there are aspects of the ethanol-fueled society that are indeed "yet to come" -- the production capacity to actually replace a large percentage of today's gasoline consumption, for example -- we're much closer than W thinks. This article published on the LiveScience.com site updates the work to find efficient methods to produce "cellulosic ethanol." In other words, ethanol from non-seed sources such as corn stalks, wood waste, even the switchgrass W mentioned in the SOTU. Essentially, the new technologies will probably rely on microbial assistance to break the cellulose plant material down into basic sugars, which then can be fermented into 199 proof ethanol. Termites (hosts to the microbes being studied) to the rescue of human civilization -- talk about irony!

(An aside; the switchgrass reference was planted in the SOTU due to the efforts of Sen. Sessions of Alabama, who got the info from an Auburn U. agronomist working with ethanol production from switchgrass and other fast-growing plants.)

Here's that article.

The Prez has been using the "E" word a lot in public since the SOTU; however, he will never master the art of oratory (sadly...). The White House recently released a transcript of one of W's appearances; this one in Golden, CO at the National Renewable Energy Laboratory (which, oddly enough, had recently had its budget CUT by Congress; Congress did see fit to add back some of what they had cut so that some researchers and staff could be rehired). Several bigwigs of industry were also on the panel; unfortunately the WH skipped their segments in the transcript.

(Maybe because the other panel members were able to maintain trains of thought long enough to complete a sentence?)

I'm pretty sure W is moderately intelligent; I wish he could sound it. Transcripts only emphasis his shortcomings in public speaking.

The transcript is at www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2006/02/20060221.html . (For some reason, MT is cutting off the entry at this point when I set it up as a link.)

There are several million cars on the road NOW that can run on E85 fuel -- 85% ethanol, 15% gasoline -- or any blend of ethanol and gasoline from 0/100 to 85/15. The problem is that there are practically NO E85 PUMPS in this country! Unfortunately, the oil barons control most of the pumps -- another reason they're not terribly concerned by W's current fascination.

Even if you can't use E-85 (and most cars can run perfectly well on a blend of 20% ethanol; I run mine, both non-flex fuel cars, on 20-30% ethanol as often as possible -- but then, I'm one of the lucky few living within a few miles of an E85 pump...), you can help push this fuel forward. Just ask, when you fill up, where the E85 pump IS -- and, when the station owner looks at you with a clueless expression, you can say that the President says we should be using E85 instead of gasoline, and that it's the owner's PATRIOTIC DUTY to offer an American-produced fuel to his customers.

And it really is....

EW

(we now return you to your regular ranter....)

The Flu Bites

Nuff said. At least no pinfeathers and/or bird calls.

All hail G! And R., who were kind enough to bring me soup, drink, and more yesterday. Thank you very much!!

More later.

LW

I Think He Knows Me Too Well

Even before we met face-to-face, I have to think that BloodSpite knew me too well. A slightly mofidifed version of his link is now up on my wall at work.

LW

Lost Has Lost Me

Okay, I admit I have been enjoying the television show Lost, possibly for some of the wrong reasons. Mmmmmmm. Nice lingere on a nice body; Mira Furlan as a guest star; and, some quirkiness that reminds me a lot of Twin Peaks.

Well, that quirkiness was almost enough in some respects to kill the show from the start, and has kept me from being as strong a fan as some. A good show does not mess with your suspension of disbelief, and this show did seriously tread that ground. The entire accident, and the subsequent scenes on the beach did not work for me as a pilot. The burning of the remnants, full of things needed for survival for alleged health reasons, did not work for me from both a health standpoint and a survival standpoint. Yet, great gams and the possibility of more lingere lured me back.

Problem: No more lingere.

Problem: When the need for an army came up, the so-called leader turned to a cop on the matter, when there was another present who knew about military matters. Hint for the confused: police do not make a good army, and using soldiers as police is a Very Bad Thing.

Problem: Many more items of factual disconnect that boggled my suspension of disbelief.

Then, last week, they had the character of the Iraqi Republican Guard torturer reveal how he became a torturer. It was the evil Americans and the American military (and/or CIA). They made him a torturer in GWI, and that is why he was what he was.

Oh. Give. Me. A. Frelling. Break.

This is the final jumping of the shark for this show. They can show Evangeline nude, naked, or more, and I won't be back.

LW

Happy Valentine's Day

Now, in Valen's name, I go to polish the tines of my forks...

LW
yes, it is an old and bad B5 pun, deal...

When The Going Gets Weird

I should go pro. Sorry, lots to post, just no time, no energy. Not feeling great, and to top it off, someone tried to steal Pups yesterday. They were not successful, but I am less than amused that someone would try that in broad daylight. That tends to mean amateurs or desperate, and niether is a thing I care to deal with. I will probably be even less amused when I find out how much replacing the lock they punched will cost. More soon.

LW

A Hopefully Less Interesting Week

It seems that I managed to concuss myself Sunday a week ago, and then had a reaction to the concussion. I just love experiencing new things, and, yes, it probably was the reason I expressed myself in such a pithy manner in regards Google. Feeling a lot better now, and amazed the Borzoi, who maintained until now that nothing could dent this hard head... Hoping for a much less interesting week this week.

LW
who now has the CT to prove there is something besides rock in his head...

A Kilt Is Not A Skirt

I had wanted to leave this as a comment over at Professor Althouse's site, but I don't have (or can't remember) a blogger ID. So, I am just going to post this here. This comes from reading about a rather clueless dweeb attacking Sonia Belle on her site, and an afternoon perusal of Althouse to see what all was there beside the message that set off the morality police. Here is the comment that could not be left:

A couple of quick points. First, a kilt is not technically a skirt, and only the ill-informed (or bigoted), or someone really trying to start something, call them that. :) There is a really old and bad joke about it being called a kilt because the last person to call it a skirt got kilt...

While Craig is technically correct (and I agree with him on the regimental tie issue), the fact is that general usage today has people wearing tartans they like no matter what. Personally, I like the tartan(s) of my primary clan, but I also don't blow a gasket if I see someone else wearing it who is not related. In point of fact, many clan societies will try to get them to join if they like it so much, as an associate or similar member. I don't recognize the tartan he is wearing, but will also point out that there are a number of regional, city, or other tartans which can be worn by those not in a clan.

I would also ask Craig how he arrived at wearing proper automatically becoming indecent exposure? That comes across much more as a cheap shot than anything.

And, I fear that the following will forever ban me from being blogrolled:

I am a descendent of Duncan, slain by the traitor MacBeth.

Fountain pens at dawn?

LW

Thoughts Go Out

To those in Florida affected by the horrible truck/car/school bus wreck. May the light shine on you all, enfold you, warm you with love, and light your path in the dark days ahead.

A quick Damn You! to every miserable jerk of an editor, reporter, headline writer or other responsible for misleading headlines or ledes/stories on underage driver in multi-fatality crash or similar dreck. You are supposed to report the news gott damn it not write irresponsible, inaccurate, and sensationalistic crap. Oh, wait, you are MSM and "real journalists" with mulitple layers of fact checking and oversight, writing false and misleading stuff is what you do for a living. Feh.

Should the kid have been driving? No. Were they in any way at fault in this accident? No. That family appears to have not just lost seven children, 7 children, but reports now say that the grandfather dropped dead of a heart attack when he was told of the news. Any illegitimate offspring of diseased and defective professional sexual service providers who would compound this tragedy by lying or misleading should suffer unspeakably for their crime. A pox on you all, for you have no shame or honor.

I may have words to say in regards the driver of the dump truck later, but I will wait until such time as blood tests, phone records, and more are in. For it may be that I pity them as I pity few others, or it may be that worst curse to be placed is simply to remember it fully for the rest of their life. It is too soon to tell, and I sure as heck am not going to trust most media to give me accurate information on this matter.

LW

Okay, I Need A Keeper

House elf, slave, something... I can take the cold fairly well, but this afternoon and evening I was starting to feel cold, really cold. Had sort of felt it last night, and was a bit puzzled that the bedroom was down at 50 instead of the normal 52-55. Well, it finally hit me that I had turned off the heat yesterday morning while hauling some stuff in and out -- and never remembered to cut it back on. It is now back on, but it is clear that I need a keeper...

LW

Drive Through Rant

As long as I am doing some quick lunch time blogging, allow me to rant a moment.

If you are in a drive through for any business, it is not necessary to keep one, much less multiple, car lengths between you and the vehicle ahead of you. Doing so not only interrupts the traffic flow, it can interrupt the product flow as well. It keeps people from putting in orders, and makes everything as jerky as your driving. Think a minute about others and it will help you and them get your order/work done faster.

LW
who gets cranky when his mocha is delayed by selfish and self-absorbed types, some of whom need to hang up and drive...

Comments In General

First, when I comment at other sites, I try to say something halfway intelligent, though sometimes it is just a quick rant. Emphasis here is quick, as I don't have time to read a lot of my favorites these days, much less read the comments. I think spelling, grammar, and syntax (and occasional missing words) clearly show the "hurry" factor. In fact, I have been taken to task for not reading the comments to posts (and still await the promised spanking from a certain female for not doing so). When I do "read" comments a lot of it is skim and most of it is skip. I look for names I know and find interesting, pro or con, and most often the comments I read in any depth are the ones just above the comment dialog box. I probably owe an apology or five for making reference to "a post above" rather than using a name, but if the comment is back up a ways, I don't always have the time or inclination to go back up to find it. If I skip your comment, it is nothing personal, you probably just happened to be higher up the comment thread.

If I am slow responding to a counter-comment you made in response to my comment, well, I don't always read the follow-ups. I do sometimes on things of particular interest, but not always. Some of my friends and readers will tell me of such a comment, but... To those that do, thanks.

Of late, the only comment thread I have even begun to closely follow were those that came out in response to my book posts on Blackfive. Some people truly got what I was talking about in terms of using the fiction as a means of gaming out things, and most of all I got some new authors to read.

And a general comment/disclaimer that is probably due again even though I posted a shorter version on Blackfive a week or two ago. Please note, I have never served my country in uniform, and have only worn the uniform in ROTC. I am not now, nor have I ever been, the employee of any intelligence agency. Much of my career has been spent around DoD and related areas, and NASA, and I have gotten to do many fun, wonderful, and interesting things, both on and off the record. Anything I say is strictly my opinion and does not represent in any way, shape, or form, the official policy or opinion of the U.S. Government or any agency or entity within; past, present, or future mother-in-laws; or, anyone else.

That is all.

LW

Dialog Of The Weekend

It was a good weekend, and a mostly fun one. Part of it has left me bruised a bit from helping move something large and cumbersome, but am glad it is done. We had Winter Wolves out at Wolf Park, and a fair turnout with interesting and nice people. In fact, I was very glad to see a couple of individuals who showed up. Attended a brunch on Sunday, and did some other visiting and meetings too.

It has also resulted in the following quote, worthy of a blogmeet:

"Heavy breathing does not qualify as dialog."

I love it.

LW

More Coming Soon

I actually have a fair bit to blog about, from an update on those ceramic brake pads to some serious discussions. They will have to wait until I recover from work and FritzFest. Just a quick thanks to T1G for putting on the dog so well! More on that soon too...

LW

A New Year Wish

I want to wish each and every one of you a Healthy, Happy, and Prosperous New Year! Be safe out there tonight...

My holiday from blogging, such as it is, may continue a bit longer. To be honest, I am getting things done, having fun, and making happen that thing called life.

Over the last few weeks, I have had the opportunity to go out to Wolf Park in the evenings to prepare "meatballs" to give medicine (and prepare them to get medicines) to the wolves. It has also given me more time with the people who truly know wolves and animals, and when you have the chance to learn from people with 30 years experience, take it. My thanks to all for sharing and helping me learn.

To say I have enjoyed it is an understatement, as I have been able to get to know some of the more "interesting" wolves. Indeed, I have come to think rather highly of two of them, who surprised me by being some of the daintiest/most careful takers of meatballs (actually, portions of hot dogs mostly, with some ground meat or dog food balls). This has precluded pictures, but do have some nice ones from other occasions I hope to share soon.

Work is going to be a bear in January, with at least two major we-need-this-yesterday projects that will take up at least the next six weeks. If not a bit longer.

More will come, just not sure when. Meantime, thanks for continuing to stop by, and all the best in the New Year!

LW

Exploring The River Tam

I've long promised this to Jon, and have a few minutes this morning, so I've decided to explore a bit of my fascination with the character of River Tam in Firefly and Serenity. I freaked out the volunteer coordinator at Wolf Park (not hard to do, but fun) a while back by noting that part of it was that she was a "psycho killer kitty, which I like." It is indeed that, and more.

First, I admit that I find Summer Lyn Glau to be beautiful. I was not surprised to find out that she is a premier ballerina -- the moves she makes show the training -- and would be less than surprised to find some form of martial arts in her background as well. Her official site has more, and there is also an unofficial fan site up as well. The fact is, I do think she is pretty, and the grace with which she moves is captivating as well, especially for one such as myself lacking in grace and coordination.

But looks and grace are only part of the equation. While I know nothing of the actress and the person/soul that she is, I do know a good bit about the character. Joss Whedon does little by halves, and that is truly the case with this well crafted character.

First, Joss brings in the waif motif. She arrives curled up naked in a fetal position, vulnerable and helpless, small, and in a way that brings out both the protector and predator. In some ways, the start of the response is the same for both if you look at it from a behavioral standpoint. The desire to investigate, to explore, to find out more. The protection response is strong in most humans, and there is suggestion -- if not evidence -- in scientific literature that some of this is hardwired, particularly in males. There is something about something small and helpless that tends to catch our eye, and bring out the desire to protect.

This is taken a step further by having the character very childlike, which again brings out another level of protectiveness in people, both male and female. In the series, there is a moment that the actress played brilliantly, where while hiding on the outside of the ship from enemies within, she is focused not on the situation, but staring out into the universe with joy and wonder. This, and other similar scenes, reinforce the childlike quality to her, and make her both appealing and deserving of protection.

Yet, it is also clear that the character is not a child, but a woman. This is, in part, an appeal to the predator. The knowledge that she is much more than she appears, and could be more still, is a well-crafted appeal to the male (and some females I know).

This, in turn, leads to the delight (to me) of the hidden depths. You realize quickly that the character has depths unplumbed (get your mind out of the gutter!), and with it comes the desire to know more. Part is because the depths hold information critical to the show/movie, and because in most normal people it hits the curiosity button. What else is it that they know? What are their thoughts, particularly on X, Y, and Z? What other gems lie hidden within? This is also an indication of age, experience, and maturity, which again appeals to the pull of the adult, the knowledge that she is a woman and not a child.

Adding spice to this mix is the fact that she is quite deadly. For all the protective response she invokes, she can and will hold her own in a fight. She clearly needs protection and guidance in social and other situations, and can and does fall prey to various forms of social combat (never recognizing them for the field of battle that they truly are). Yet, when it hits the fan, she can and does give a more than good accounting of herself. At that point, her character becomes both protector and potential predator, leaving one to wonder a bit at how far she might let that predator slip...

All together, this makes for a rich and delightfully complex character. Far too many characters in entertainment today, and in real life, exist in only one or two dimensions. Really interesting people, fictional or non-fictional, have many layers, levels, and dimensions. In this character, you can clearly see this richness for all the character's tender years.

For me, the character brings forth the protector and the predator. The sense of wonder at life and the universe is a delight, and I sense a kindred desire to explore. Within that is a seasoning, wonderfully free of cynicism, that knows the universe is not a nice place and that not all people are nice and friendly. She is one who watches and is prepared, but does not let that rule or preclude her enjoyment of life and experiencing the wonders. Finally, River is also one you would want at your side and back in any fight, for you know that she can look out after herself if you are not around and that she can and will protect you. Indeed, after the battle you may find yourself being the one stalked...

A bit brief, but it fills in some gaps and fulfills a promise to discuss this further.

LW

Christmas 2005

This year is the first year since Dad has died that I have truly been into Christmas. Christmas is about family, and my fondest memories of Christmas are of Mom, Dad, Ralph, and I enjoying the time. Next year I shall endeavor to write of Christmas Eve, a special day, but for now only of the day.

We would get up and go into the living room and see what Santa had brought. Then came the stockings (both mine and the dog's), then the presents under the tree. The stockings contained a mixture of fruit, nuts, treats, and always had a dime in the toe for good luck. These were not, with the exception of Ralph's (the dog, aka Mutt, aka You Bloody Beagle), store-bought but rather old fashioned real stockings from before the Great Depression, upon which an initial was carefully sewn by the owner. While the store-bought were pretty and nice, the real stockings held a heck of a lot more...

We would have coffee (chocolate for me when younger), stollen, or other home-made delight to eat whilst we enjoyed it all. Sometimes the food was simple, family treats from when my parents were children, to more elaborate, but all made by hand with love. And occasional imprecations and invective in working the stollen dough... Then, it was a trip over to an Uncle's house for Christmas morning there, an exchange of gifts, and -- always -- egg nog. Then, it was back home to the madness that was the mandatory gathering of Mom's family and a huge dinner. Many years this was enjoyable, and a few years not so much. Things got much better after we broke the tradition a bit but kept the great get-together and feast.

To this day, I honestly can't remember if it was Christmas or Thanksgiving that Ralph ate the turkey intended for the feast. The stinker found it out on the counter and cleverly pulled it off and rolled backwards so that it came down on his chest and did not make a thud on the floor. A chunk was gone out of the bird when the deed was beagled out, and consternation hit. Ralph was sent out in gorged disgrace, and my parents tried to figure out what to do. Back then, the holiday meant no stores were open, and even had one been, the odds of them having a bird that large were next to nil. So, Mom scrubbed the area with Comet, and Dad wisely trimmed the area down. We roasted the bird, and then in a major break with tradition (noted by all), carved the turkey before everyone arrived. I forget the exact excuse used, but it worked.

The food for the feast was always plenty, and plenty good. It was the one time of the year we got some of the treats, and all made the most of it. It wasn't just the trypto that had us in a coma afterwards...

Yet, the memories that mean the most to me are of the first of the morning. It is the little tin bell that was always on the tree, and was one of the first I was allowed to put there. It is on my tree right now as I right this, along with the bird's nest and the glass pickle... It is of Dad with his cup of coffee, sleepy, grumpy in act and proud and happy in fact, in robe and pajamas. It is of Mom dressed in a bit more for cooking, expressing delight at some surprise. It is of the two of them on that old, formal sofa, underneath the portraits of Bishop Pierce (a X-great grandfather) and Miss Nancy, his wife. It is of Ralph investigating his stocking, knowing which one was his without coaxing. It is of Ralph trying to get out the sliding glass door with the long rawhide treat that hit both sides. It is of sitting on the cold wood floor or the bricks of the fireplace in my pajamas, bathed in the warm glow of love. It is of the two pair of jeans always under the tree, the pants that had to last me until next Christmas.

Yes, Christmas was special, and was both dreaded and loved by Mom. Dreaded for all the work (and expense), and loved for both the reward for the hard work and for the celebration of her faith. As the ovarian cancer ate away her insides, her wish was to make it to Christmas, to be home for Christmas. A woman of strong faith, it is my opinion that by her lights she was indeed home for Christmas when she left her shell behind 11 years ago this day. It made for a strange Christmas, but a surprisingly joyous one, for she was home and was free of the pain. I doubt that anyone who has not lost family or friends to that horrible death can understand, but Dad and I both felt relief at the end of her suffering even as we mourned her loss.

Yet, it was when Dad died that it became odd for me. For, this is a celebration of family and no offense to any Aunts, Uncles, or Cousins out there, but my immediate family was gone. Things just were not the same, no matter the efforts of friends and extended family.

For some reason, this Christmas has brought back some of what has been missing. I am not sure why, and I am not sure what it is, but -- with the exception of things said and thought whilst dealing with all the oh-so-delightful drivers -- something has returned. The new lair is getting some major cleaning and work, and a tree is up. Decorations are out, and the living room is aglow with the warm light of candles on mantle, sideboard and hearth. My favorite Christmas music is playing, and I am the happiest I have been at this time in several years. By rights, this should not be for I do not have someone special here to share it with me, nor was I able to do for family and friends -- most especially my friends -- as I would like. Time has been short, and I am like Tammi on this, for in a perfect world I would have already written all.

Yet, I am strangely happy. I have had a wonderful visit with this guy, though he was not supposed to see my true form. Actually, I treated him better than family, as I left some coffee for him Friday morning. I have dinner tonight with other friends. Perhaps it really is as simple as realizing that friends are the family we choose. Who knows.

What I do wish for each of you, no matter your beliefs, is the joy of the season, is the wonder of it all as seen through a child's eyes, and is whatever measure of peace is needed to comfort you. Sit back from the rush, the consumerism, and the madness that is the surface, and take time to enjoy the delight and love that is at the heart of family -- those chosen as well as those of blood. Share that gift with others, and let the light shine forth from window, heart, and hearth.

May the light shine on you all this season, fill your life with its glow, and warm your souls and hearts with love.

LW
off to be sure dimes are in the toes of the stockings...

Christmas Movie Meme

If it had been anyone else other than Tammi, I probably would not do it. But, it is, so here it is:

1. Original Grinch
2. Snoopy Christmas
3. Miracle on 34th Street (original is best)
4. A Christmas Carol (original is best)
5. Frosty The Snowman/Rudolf

Okay, most are television, but deal. They were the the ones that said (and say) Christmas to me. Two others deserve honorable mention:

Scrooged: Carol Kane had waaaaaay too much fun hitting Bill Murray, and I am not convinced all of it was acting. Add in some others that I like, and it is a good fun romp.

Ghost and Mrs. Muir: The ex had never seen it, so one holiday we played it for her. The fact that she had gotten it confused with the Ghost and Mr. Chicken at one point before watching raised an eyebrow with both Dad and myself. Watching it somewhere between Thanksgiving and Christmas is something of a tradition these days, need to see if I still have a playable copy... What, it has a Christmas scene in it...

LW

Five Weird Habits

Well, I have been tagged by both Sgt. Hook and Teresa, so here is a short and sweet version:

5. When rinsing items, I have a tendency to rinse three times. No idea where that came from...
4. When wanting to leave somewhere and getting sidetracked by people, I will pull out my car key and start playing with it. Think that came from trying to "remind" a friend that I needed to leave on multiple occasions
3. I hold doors for ladies and those senior to me, though I have been known to let a door go on those who have shown they are no lady or otherwise a boor
2. If eating out by myself, I read as I hate to waste the time just waiting
1. I prefer my water without ice, just faucet or room cold

So, what are your five weird habits?

LW

An Odd Connection

Reading this post at Eric's reminded me of an odd moment this weekend. Whilst spending time outside in the snow, I had one of those sudden bits of deja that can afflict one from time to time.

One of the earliest dreams of my death began, I think, in high school. In this dream, I am in a C-130, geared up for a low-level jump. So low, in fact, that we do not have on reserves, for if the main does not work there will be no time for such. We are in mountains, known but unsaid. The ramp is going down, and below -- far too close -- is ground moving by. Long stretches of snow with patches of snow-covered evergreens and the occasional nasty bit of rock are going by in vivid detail. Somehow I know that I die not in the jump, but afterwards.

This weekend, out at Wolf Park, I looked up at some evergreens and it hit. The snow in the trees was as I saw it in that dream. A very different angle, but the same. It hit fast, and faded. For a moment longer I stared at it, simply enjoying the beauty of the sight.

LW

A Day Of Thanks

Amidst all that is bad in the world, it is good and right to set aside time to remember all that is right with our worlds. Indeed, I think it should be done more often than once a year. That said, here are a few of the things for which I am thankful:

Old Friends: Or rather, long-term friends. Those that have known me for years and still -- for some odd reason -- like me and continue to be the family that has chosen me, or I them. They stand through thick and thin.

New Friends: I have made a number of new acquaintances in the last few years, a number of new friends, and even some True Friends in the bargain.

Absent Friends: Two-legged, four-legged, whatever. Each has enriched my life and given more than I would ever have dared ask, or deserve. A reminder that it oft is nice to get what we need, rather than what we think we deserve. See you in the light my friends.

Health: No, I am not in the shape I care to be, but the results of the physical appear to be quite good so far. In fact, far better than I expected. Who can complain about that?

Work: A steady paycheck has been good, and I have gotten to work on or with some neat and interesting things and some neat and interesting people. For the latter in particular, I am thankful.

The Lair: I have long wanted a home of my own, and while it has been a money pit of sorts, it is also wonderful. For it, and the opportunity it presents, I am thankful. Still think friend G is trying to kill me with the flowers and landscaping though...

Good Neighbors: One set of neighbors in particular have reminded me of what it means to be a neighbor, and to be neighborly.

Meeting People: I've had the chance to meet a lot of people this last year, and I have met some truly wonderful ones. Meeting new and different people is truly a wonder and a blessing.

Learning: I have been given so many chances to learn this last year. Work has exposed me to new professional concepts, reminded me of things long forgotten, and -- best of all -- has introduced me to new areas of research that are simply fascinating. Wolf Park has exposed me to so much more than just wolf poo. P & G have taught me more about animal behavior in just a few short months than I have learned in the last ten years, and may even allow me to expand that into animal care a bit as well. A has taught me a good bit about bison and bison herding, though A may be coming around (at least in one particular case) to my position that bison are best medium rare. A different A has taught me so much about foxes, and taken the time to show the details and subtle points on these fascinating creatures. My thanks also to Wolf Park for letting me attend Dr. Ray Coppinger's seminar, more on that soon once my brain tops hurting...

Those Who Serve: Some I know, most I do not, but for them very special thanks this day! Each sails into harms way, no matter how they serve. Those in the military openly defend me and mine, and keep the enemy at bay. They liberate not just territory, but hearts and minds as well. There are those, military and other, who fight in the shadows and the dark. They too keep the enemy at bay, and remove their fangs as most sleep. Special thanks to you, the unheralded and unsung. Here at home, law enforcement, paramedics, and firefighters deserve our thanks too, for they oft fight a different foe. In particular, thank a paramedic or a firefighter today, and remember that outside of the cities many/most of these are volunteers. They are your neighbors, your friends.

The Good, The Bad: The Ugly, the beautiful, the pleasurable, the painful and all else have shaped this year and me. Together and individually, they provide the opportunity for growth and growth is good. The day we stop learning, and stop growing, is the day we truly die even if the body lives on.

For You: My readers, my acquaintances, my friends, and more. Your being here, your reading, your taking part in blog and in life is something for which I am deeply and truly thankful.

There is so much more, but this hits the high points.

Oh, one more thing:

J, I miss you too.

LW

If You Use Frelling Poison

To kill pests, then for Ifni's sake use it responsibly. I had thought that Ginger had been poisoned based on symptomology. I got a message this morning from my neighbor that they had found Ginger's remaining kitten dead, also apparently from poison. I've also found out that we have a neighbor who is known to use poison on pests.

There are times when poison needs to be used. Even then, there is no excuse for not using it properly. Animals that get hit by direct or secondary poison die very painful and nasty deaths. By the time symptoms manifest, it is usually way too late to do any good.

A cat who loved me and her kitten suffered because someone did NOT do things properly, IMO.

Think before you spread poison around, because other lives will be affected if you don't do it right.

LW

It Has Been Suggested

That I may not have been honest with myself or with you in my entry on #10 in the 20 Random Things listing. It was pointed out that I have done work for NASA twice, and that both times I did it for five or more years. With reluctance, I must admit that, as noted in the comments, it might just move me from sadist, past masochist, and into pain slut territory.

LW

My Secret Identity Discovered

Last weekend, I discovered that my secret identity has been revealed. While out at Wolf Park, someone was talking with a staffer and said something like "Satan did (it)" and without anything else being said, the staffer turned and looked straight at me. Good to know what they think of me, and also probably good to know that my cover is blown. Yes, I know I accused Blackfive of it, but that was just tradecraft.

Wrangling bison yesterday may have also earned me the title of "Beaner of Bison." I took my lunch hour yesterday morning to help out at Wolf Park with vaccination and worming of the bison. Getting started required coaxing Spike, the head bull, to move away. Spike wasn't interested, so Zammers and I went in to work the issue -- in a truck, as crazy we may be, stupid I try to avoid. Zammers drove us up and I was in the back, and after re-loading with apple chunks, we got close. I needed to get a chunk of apple near Spike to get his attention, and lure him towards those already thrown in a vain effort to move him, or just to get him out of the way. I picked my spot and threw -- and beaned Spike in the face near his eye. That got his attention. My next few throws were better, and we got him away enough to get started.

Started included acting as part of a mobile "wall" (at least it is that from the POV of the bison), to get the chosen bison into the chute for the squeeze cage. Being on the end of the mobile wall, I found myself more-or-less eye-to-eye with more than one unhappy bison looking to escape. As in just a couple of feet between us, and if they had figured out that they could break the wall with ease or decided to try to take the end of the wall (and one did think about it) it would not have been pretty.

As soon as we let out the first vaccinated and wormed bison, however, Spike burst into the holding pen, causing the call to go out and everyone to run and climb like hell. It seems that one of the bison cows in the chute leading to the squeeze cage was his current favorite lady, and Spike was not happy. Not happy to the point that if he could have gotten anyone, at best they would have been maimed for life. I was standing next to the Vet when this happened, and I went up, flipped out and over the overhang, and got up on top of the squeeze cage in just about two seconds when the call went out. It is most interesting to have more than 1,200 pounds of large, angry bison jumping up, attacking things, and giving you very nasty looks (did he remember the beaning?) from just a few feet away. Yep, #16 in spades, or spikes. I'm taking Monday afternoon off to go help with doing as much of the rest of the herd as possible.

LW

20 Random Things

Well, I've been tagged by Zammers to list 20 random things about myself. In no particular order:

1. I have been presented to royalty, a Queen, by a Playboy photographer
2. I have 5 static line parachute jumps
3. The reason I don't have a free-fall jump is that we had problems with repacking the chute after that 5th static line, and as I was starting to jump I was told "If it doesn't open, just reach behind you and beat the hell out of it with your elbows." I caught a handhold and went back into the plane
4. I only jumped chutes I packed
5. My very first jump took me through a cloud, and it was bright, moist, and peaceful -- one of the most wonderfull experiences in my life and over way too quick.
6. I was a virgin until my 20s
7. In high school, I played the trumpet and while in college was in a fortunately short-lived band known as the Devastation Hall Jazz Band
8. In middle and high school I was in the Chorus, as well as in church youth choir
9. By the time I was a junior, I was singing first bass, but was (and still am) flexible enough to handle most bass and baritone parts
10. I am sadistic
11. I will always regret not forcing Dad's doctor to get us the morphine patches we asked for instead of using the liquid the twit gave us
12. An aunt who lived on the coast could call the dolphins, and get them to come up to us.
13. Dolphins are wonderful, and I suspect many tursiops are smartass
14. As a pilot, I have never gotten sick in a plane
15. I am told that I did turn an interesting shade of green flying through some weather that popped up, but I did not get sick -- too busy.
16. It scares me that I only feel fully on and alive in a crisis, particularly a life or death crisis, but damn what a rush
17. I have seen more than one ghost
18. I was born allergic to almost everything
19. One of my fondest memories of a lover was simply holding them, inhaling their scent, and listening to the sounds of their body -- peaceful it was
20. I have yet to begin to live

I am not going to tag anyone, but do sort of throw it out as a challenge

LW

Monday Must Reads

Instapundit has some good thoughts and great links on a bad history meme that is being peddled, and on the big loser in the whole Plame affair. My thoughts from a bit over a year ago are here and the only thing I would add is that it is more critical than ever to reform the CIA and the culture of intelligence. Also, don't miss this good post from Gray Monk. There is a lot of good food for thought here.

LW

A Delightful Bit Of Serendipity

I've been listening recently to the band Cruxshadows (darn you John Ringo) and had an interesting experience as a result. As I was parking the other day, a young lady was walking by and I realized that the crease at the base of her butt was moving with the syncopation of the song. Not the beat, but an interesting bit of syncopation buried within other such things. Absolutely delightful to watch her hips sway and the crease form in perfect match to that portion of the music.

The song also has some odd sounds in it, more than vaguely organic in nature. Together, it all reminded me of quiet times lying with my head on someone, and just listening to them. The beat of the heart, the whoosh of air in and out of the lungs, the hard-to-describe sound of blood travelling, and the other movements and operations of the body. Like scent, such things mark a person and make them unique.

LW

Thank You

I want to thank everyone for all the kind words and thoughts both public and private. They mean a lot, not just to me but I hope to the family as well.

It is funny how some people come into your life and make barely a ripple, and others come in quietly but then... Such people usually have a good effect, and she did on me. It is hard to believe that I did not know her all my life...

I've not handled parts of the last few weeks well, IMO, because this has raised some old ghosts for me. I knew all too well what she was going through, for I lost both Mom and Dad to cancer. Some of what was going on raised memories of Mom, of in her last days being able to pick her up in my arms -- a nightmare of hers. Years before, a work colleague had lost their mother to cancer, and this "boy" as she called him, had picked up his mom so that her bed could be changed. She did not like that, and felt that no son should have to do that to their mothers, and clean them as if they were a child. I picked her up from the sofa and held her dead weight in my arms so the "bedding" (pads to catch the blood and dreck that came from her as cancer ate her insides away). Another cleaned the puddle that formed on the floor, and cleaned her as well. At least she was spared that indignity... Such memories have made it hard for me to deal, to accept. It was Heather that had the strength and courage to tell me goodbye, though I sent word back that it was not goodbye, but an until-we-meet-again.

I find myself avoiding another person right now, and not just because of the long talks and lectures that can result. This male is fighting prostate cancer, and in watching him I can see things that remind me of my Dad, though the two are nothing alike in most respects. It is what the cancer does, the mannerisms it imparts that make me go to some lengths to avoid the person.

I had thought these ghosts slain and dealt with, but obviously not. Have a few things I am going to need to work on here soon...

And I will do it. I have already started to move on and stop feeling sorry for myself, for that is what most mourning truly is. Besides, if I don't, I feel sure that a certain cantankerous ursine will find a way to kick my sorry rear. You know, that knowledge actually is a pretty good thing and feeling.

LW

Still Running Behind

I am waaaay behind on e-mail, please be patient! For some quick ones:

J (female): I think I have found the recipes you wanted, will know soon
J (male): I still owe you some data, hope to have it to you this week
E (male): I hope to have that job to you shortly
E (female): Thanks!
G: I will get your job to you as soon as I get E's out

Everyone else: I still have two book reviews and one "good" post I need to get done. Soon. Have I ever lied to you? I mean about anything important...

LW

I Want A Partial Do-Over

Hey, if the White House can call one so can I. It should be obvious that I was not tracking well yesterday morning by the posts I did. I knew it was Thursday on one level, but on others I thought and acted like it was Friday. It was, needless to say, in parts very weird yesterday. I am so glad that it really is Friday, even with having to go start the process of the annual physical...

More soon.

LW

Carnival of the Capitalists Is Up

Go read and enjoy the excellent food for thought at Accidental Verbosity.

LW

Whew

The weekend was busy, with a work function on Saturday taking a large chunk of the day, and yesterday being spent in the yard. Not only did it get mowed, but I snapped and quit putting off some work, which resulted in the Indiana chain saw massacre being conducted on some limbs. If they dry out enough, I have plenty of wood now for my Halloween bonfire. The limbs were low and caused trouble and pain in getting the back pasture mowed. I also began putting bricks around the fire circle and put most of a pallet of edging stone in place in the front yard. I needed to do that so I can finish planting bulbs. Have also discovered that it is going to take 2-5 more pallets of stone to do what I want to do...

That said, I hope to get two book reviews and a bit more posted this week. We will see. I still have to get the rest of the stone put out, insecticide spread, weed killer spread, mole-b-gone re-applied, and bulbs planted. Oh, and of course, go to work. Off to the salt mines...

LW

Well, At Least They Are Not Attacking Us This Time...

Cant...Stop...Laughing... Not sure how to categorize this as it is humor, politics, and products. Haven't really eaten at Subway since they did those anti-American ads overseas, but may have to reconsider that... After I stop laughing. Darn you Blackfive...

LW

Saturday Day Was Fun

Just so you know, it was only Saturday night that was unsettling. Saturday day and evening was spent doing fun things, and not only did I get to meet a wolf I had not been able to meet before, I also experienced the invigoration of being nibble-groomed in stereo. I had two wolves start on opposite sides of my neck and nibble groom me up to the tops of my ears. Absolutely delightful, if a bit ticklish.

LW

Weird Dreams Of A Saturday Night

Dreams are supposed to be (wished to be) a place of escape, of refuge from the storm. Not so mine, at least on the surface. Saturday night found me being executed.

I was hauled into a room, a chamber of some sort and strapped into a chair-like thing. I was terrified, and had started to panic during the walk in. I don't want to die, I don't want to end, what if this is all that there was? Then, I got a hold of myself and bucked up. They would not see me grovel, fight, or panic. I would show them how a man dies.

There was cap with sponge placed upon my head, and my legs were strapped so my bare feet rested on an iron bar. So, it was to be electrocution, and painfully done at that. The bar would not guarantee good contact, so it would take a while and hurt like hell while it happened. They wanted an example, to degrade me. The chair-like thing suddenly swiveled and moved so that I was upside down, feet up, and then it started.

Maybe it was a refuge, a reminder after all. For when the show was over, I found myself still myself, but beyond. A reminder at the most basic level of the subconscious that something awaits. A message worth getting, but it did not make for a great Saturday night.

LW

The Second Time Around

Army Wive Toddler Mom has a great post up about some good news for her father. I am so happy for him, for them, even though I know that five-year-old.

Miss L was the baby sister of my Dad's best friend in high school. Possibly even the annoying little sister, but not real sure about that. She lost her husband about the same time we lost Mom, and they met again after about a year had passed. It was great for both of them, for it got them out and about. Most of all, it got them out of their shells.

They did not get married, for a number of reasons, but I gave marriage my blessing. My five-year-old was recoginzed, strangled, stuffed in a tun and the bung driven in. I also made Dad blush during part of my response to the speech he made after he drove five hours to ask my permission to date. Dad could be very earthy, even crude, but was the gentleman as well.

The joy they brought each other was a gift to all of us, and one I appreciated. I am so happy to hear AWTM's news. May that gift expand and shine on them all, and fill their worlds with extra warmth and joy. May all of us deal with our inner five-year-olds, and let such gifts grow.

LW

The Hot Tub Will Save Me

I think my friend G is trying to kill me. She is the reason I have more than 250 flower bulbs on the way that will have to be planted by the end of the month. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Given how I felt after having to spend more than six hours mowing and bagging the lawn the other day, I am not looking forward to the planting. Thank goodness for the hot tub, which is now filled up, adjusted, and fired up. I used it for the first time last night, and had forgotten how much difference they can make. The hot tub may be all that saves me from G's nefarious plot. Now to run cable out there so I can watch Lost while in the hot tub...

LW

Serenity: A Few More Thoughts

While the lousey wifi at the hotel works... I am in love with River. A woman after my own heart -- and probably my liver and lights as well... more on the performances later, if the wifi gets its stuff together...

LW
standing in a hallway afraid to move less he lose the signal...

What Lunatic Am I?

Well, I saw this at Bou's and had to try it. For once, we did not match. Instead of a Mad King, I am the only Emperor of America:

Which Historical Lunatic Are You?
From the fecund loins of Rum and Monkey.

Interesting since I just finished reading a Sandman book featuring Norton...

LW

Whew

Well, the impossible was done: around ten print items, four displays (largest 8'x10'), shipping, and a few other odds and ends done in just about a month. The printers met an almost impossible deadline, somewhat to my surprise. As much as I needed rest, however, I could not shut down this weekend and so got a fair bit done at the lair, including prep and priming a room to paint, setting up the guest bed (which needs a mattress) and starting to set up a guest room, and some much needed organization. More soon?

LW

Talk Like A Priate Day

It's "Talk Like A Pirate Day" and I took the test:

You are The Cap'n!

Some men are born great, some achieve greatness and some slit the throats of any man that stands between them and the mantle of power. You never met a man you couldn't eviscerate. Not that mindless violence is the only avenue open to you - but why take an avenue when you have complete freeway access? You are the definitive Man of Action. You are James Bond in a blousy shirt and drawstring-fly pants. Your swash was buckled long ago and you have never been so sure of anything in your life as in your ability to bend everyone to your will. You will call anyone out and cut off their head if they show any sign of taking you on or backing down. You cannot be saddled with tedious underlings, but if one of your lieutenants shows an overly developed sense of ambition he may find more suitable accommodations in Davy Jones' locker. That is, of course, IF you notice him. You tend to be self absorbed - a weakness that may keep you from seeing enemies where they are and imagining them where they are not.

Now to go find some rum...

Cap'n LW

Food For Thought, Lighter Note

It has been a long week, but I hope a good one. At the end of such, one needs something to lift up body, mind, and spirit. So,

Thank You "B"
A very big thank you to friend and reader "B" who not only did me a huge favor in aid of preparedness preparations, but who also made a very generous donation to Soldiers' Angels Operation Katrina Soldiers Relief Fund. Thank you so very much.

Best Line Of The Week
While it might help to know the person in question to truly appreciate it, I think this one is universal enough for most ...

"Does SoAndSo have a new boyfriend?"

"What happened, did she break the last one?"

On that note, enjoy your day, remember to laugh and to thank those around you for all the positive they do.

LW

Don't You Hate It

When you can't sleep, toss and turn, and then the alarm goes off -- and you realize that you have been dreaming not being able to sleep and are still tired... Bleh.

LW

Music Meme

Well, Bloodspite hit me with a meme a while back, and I am finally getting the chance to respond (other than sending a Bronx cheer his way).

1. Person who most influenced your musical tastes?

That's a hard one. My mother did in many respects, but she was not alone. Mom exposed me to a broad range of music, made sure I heard a lot of "Classical" (which is classical, baroque, and more), tried to get me interested in musicals and show tunes (stopped pushing so hard after discovering that my favorite line from Oklahoma was "I knew I loved her when I saw the moonlight gleaming off... the barrels of her father's shotgun."), and about anything to keep me away from that evil rock and roll. Another influence, and a good one, was the chorus director at school, who taught me to sing and expanded my exposure to music. Some subversive friends in Scouting got me hooked on that evil rock and roll, after finding out that the first album I ever bought had been Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass Whipped Cream and Other Delights. Even at that age I wanted to lick the whipped cream off...

2. Top 5 songs to drive to?

Only 5? Hah!

My Driving One CD includes:
Farscape Theme
Quixote by Bond (Born CD)
Paul's Theme (Jogging Chase) from Cat People
Voyager by Alan Parsons Project (Pyramid CD)
Rebel Yell by Billy Idol (Greatest Hits CD)
Skin Skin by Boomtown Rats (CD?)
Don't Cha Stop by The Cars (The Cars CD)
Miserlou by Dick Dale (Pulp Fiction CD)
Hungry Like The Wolf by Duran Duran (Rio CD)
Fire On High by ELO (Face the Music CD)
We've Gotta Get Out Of This Place by Eric Burdon and the Animals (The Animal's Greatest Hits CD)
Home and Dry by Gerry Rafferty (City to City CD)
Barracuda by Heart (Little Queen CD)
The Voice by The Moody Blues (The Best of the Moody Blues CD)
The Noah Plan by Peter Schilling (The Different Story CD)
One Of These Days by Pink Floyd (Meddle CD)
Buffy TV Theme

My Night Drive CD
Tubular Bells, Part One by Mike Oldfield (Tubular Bells CD)
Saeta by Miles Davis (Sketches of Spain CD)
Tango to Evora by Loreena McKinnitt (The Visit CD)
All Souls Night by Loreena McKinnitt (The Visit CD)
Blade Runner (End Titles) by Vangelis (Blade Runner CD)
The Last Farewell by Roger Whittaker (Greatest Hits CD)
Lunatic Fringe by Red Rider (As Far As Siam CD)
Invisible Sun by The Police (Ghost In The Machine)
Shine On You Crazy Diamond by Pink Floyd (Wish You Were Here CD)
Dierdre Of The Sorrows by Mychael Danna (Celtic Twilight CD)

Misc:
March Of Cambreadth by Heather Alexander (Midsummer CD)
It's A Sin by the Pet Shop Boys (Discography CD)
Paint It Black by the Rolling Stones
Strange Days by The Doors
You're Lost Little Girl by The Doors
Soul Kitchen by The Doors
Alabama Song by The Doors
Twentieth Century Fox by The Doors
Back Door Man by The Doors
Wintertime Love by The Doors
Peter Gunn Theme by Emerson, Lake & Palmer
Barracuda by Heart
Kick It Out by Heart

3. Number of CDs you own?
Don't have a clue. They fill a small U-Haul moving box, maybe a few more now... Finally gave away all my albums, the last two peach crates worth went to the English Werewolf a year or two ago...

4. Song/CD you were listening to when you lost your virginity?
To be honest, it is not the music I remember...

5. Song(s) played at your wedding?
Haven't had my wedding yet

6. Favorite Sad Song?
Like Bloodspite, I have several

Ordinary World by Duran Duran
Africa by Toto
Genesis Ch.1 V.32 by the Alan Parsons Project
Everything I Own by Bread
Biplane "Evermore" by Snoopy and the Royal Guardsmen
More, but that will do for now

7. Song you'd like played at your funeral?
Hmmmmm. Other than pipes doing Amazing Grace, I'm not sure. Part of me would like to have It's A Sin by the Pet Shop Boys and I Kissed A Girl by Jill Sobule played just for the grins of it. Another part would like Tango To Evora by Loreena McKinnett, Some Children See Him by Mannheim Steamroller, Winter Light by Sarah Brightman, and some others like that. Part of me also wants some Warren Zevon, even though Sleep When I'm Dead is almost too bad a pun even for me.

8. Song that bests describes yourself?
I don't know. But I am still looking for it.

LW

Dealing With Looters

This post over at Eric's ended up reminding me of one of the best pieces of politics I have ever witnessed.

Growing up in Macon, Georgia meant knowing one of the more colorful mayors in America: Ronnie Thompson. This is the person who stopped a train carrying nerve gas for disposal as it came through town, armed with a Thompson, in a display of grandstanding. Listening to the police scanner in those days was far more entertaining than network television given that you never knew what Ronnie would say (or what else would happen, such as engines dropping out of police cars). Thing was, Ronnie knew and really didn't seem to care -- at least until the riots.

The late 60s saw riots break out nationwide, and Macon was getting ready to have one itself. Things were bleak downtown, downright grim even, when Ronnie took to the police radio. The talk went something like:

"This is Ronnie Thompson, your mayor. I will personally give an all expense paid vacation to the Bahamas to the first officer who shoots and kills a looter."

It actually went a little longer than that, but that is the gist. The streets cleared almost immediately.

The areas hit by Katrina should be lucky enough to have a Ronnie Thompson right now... And, yes, I do feel looters should be shot.

LW

The Weekend

Given the news this morning, I thought I would share something that I found funny from this weekend. My friend and I had a good visit, which included time out at Wolf Park. Now, my friend is what might be termed vertically challenged, but usually is full enough of energy and attitude so that you forget. Doesn't work on wolves, as it turns out.

At Howl Night, she left the grandstand to go run an errand just before things got started, and I got to watch Erin and one other wolf exhibit some wonderful predatory behavior. It was enjoyable, to me, to watch them lock on and track her as she moved away. Glad she is not interesting in volunteering with the wolves, though they seemed most interested in having her...

LW

Instead Of The Usual

There is not a lot grabbing my attention this morning, just more of the same idiots being the same idiots. As for me, I could bay at them as usual, or I could share some other things -- guess what I decided to do?

Yesterday saw more than a dozen boxes dealt with, an antique dresser finally put all back together, organizing, and food. In fact, a lot more food than planned as some tomatoes ripened faster than anticipated.

Nearly a dozen good sized tomatoes to go with purple and regular basil. A quick trip into boiling water and the tomatoes were packaged and frozen. Need to remember to get lettuce so I can make a BLT...

A good bunch of purple basil, washed and ready to be made into pesto...

The start of a good batch of pesto, did this one and a double batch with green basil. I also made up a bottle of balsamic syrup so that I can do a favorite summer salad of fresh mozzarella, tomato, basil leaves, and balsamic syrup... On the grill were some veggies, flank steak Cubano, and a chunk of meat that did so so.

Enjoy the day.

LW

Dashing To The Grave

Army Wife Toddler Mom is a regular read for me. Their family recently suffered a loss, and I extended my condolences at the time. Today, I find the story of going to the funeral and I simply can't quit laughing. What a send-off! You just know that they were looking down and laughing, and what excellent blackmail for later...

LW

Yes, I Am A Prevert

No, not yet a full pervert (who knew there was a written exam?) but on the way, as I visit Bou several times a day to see what her weather pixie is up to. The pixie changes clothes more times than the jiggle-du-jour in a typical television show and has some very, very interesting clothing choices. Yep, find myself quite taken with that cute thing, to the point that I could see coming up behind her and going "Isn't that a buffalo nickle down there? Yes, go ahead, bend over, and pick it up. I'll steady you..." Yep, when you have fantasies of the pixie, there is no doubt as to prevert status...

LW

A Public Service

Eric is up to something delightfully different: he is taking requests and posting audio files of him reading the poetry of Robert Service here and here. Go listen to one of the best storytellers I know and broaden your horizons with some excellent poetry.

LW

What Is A Kludge, Pappa?

If I ever have a child, and they ask me what a kludge is, I will not attempt to verbalize it. Instead, I will simply show them this:

Ten pieces of pipe in less than two feet. That is what is between my well-head and my now pretty much defunct water pump. This was on my list of things to do as a year two or three project, but since the pump has got to be replaced tomorrow anyway...

LW

A Lucky Man Indeed!

Go wish the Prieto's Happy Anniversary. May the best be yet to come, and may the light continue to shine on them and the path they walk together.

LW

Belated Happy Birthday VW

A belated Happy Birthday to VW! May your new year be filled with health, happiness, joy, and no foot cramps. Be sure to check out her nekkid phot