My vision is shorter than the depth of the view...

Holiday time and the world isn't as it should be, mankind looking at the ground instead of the heavens, missing the wonders. Personally, Home Depot and my wife's displeasure are upsetting my harmony with the Universe - and she won't allow me to blow the whole thing up. Nice lady is my wife. That is the woman not telling my mother the truth about her terminal cancer (which she doesn't have, but my aunt told my mother it was so - so it is). There are real sad things out there, tragic and at the same time wonderful events in the near and more distant future. Sure enough one of my brothers-in-law told me off in an email - as I rippled his harmony in his Universe (I refuse to live in his, although if he were within a thousand miles I could get to him on the Trusty Triumph and beat him up). Well, it wouldn't be worthy of my real skill and fading powerful muscles and deadly techniques - and why would I want my sister to think badly of me? There are enough problems with Earl that she doesn't need to remember the terrible fellow I was, and could become again. At church I was charmed by three beautiful young women that weren't paying any attention to me, when they smile the world is brighter - come to think of it those little children's smiles and laughter were a wonder, too. I was told I was really sounding good in the choir today, I think I said thank you - they have no idea how little I know what I should sound like, when and where, only when the director cuts me off am I on cue. As the Pastor gave the sermon on Advent, John and the future now long past I started working on a Christmas story, or my Christmas story for this year and season. Being that I told my lonely mother that she should write one for this year and of her being all alone this Christmas, another dear friend of hers died yesterday. As I get older I do notice the passing of those that were always around. Some so young and some so old and all of them loved, not enough to keep inside one's heart but wrapped around oneself like a soft warm blanket of goodness.

Thanks, Jeffro, nice to remind me about those...

100 Things Meme

In bold are the things I've done.

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language (but no one but me knew it, so I had to go with older ones that everyone else spoke better)
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo's David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the EvergladesWrestled a gator, too.
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby (participated)
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
100. Read an entire book in one day

One thousand words... for a little of my Thanks

Remember to be Thankful , for those that serve...

A C-141 cargo plane was preparing for departure from Thule Air Base in Greenland, and they were waiting for the truck to arrive to pump out the aircraft's sewage holding tank. The Aircraft Commander was in a hurry, the truck was late in arriving, and the Airman performing the job was extremely slow in getting the tank pumped out. When the commander berated the Airman for his slowness and promised punishment, the Airman responded, "Sir, I have no stripes, it is 20 below zero, I'm stationed in Thule, and I am pumping sewage out of airplanes. Just what are you going to do to punish me?"

butlerwebs.com/


Thanks to my mother for reminding me to be thankful for all the wonders and the works. This is never the day to be alone, reach out and touch someone, somewhere, somehow - we are not going to be alone in saying thanks, in giving thanks nor earning a heartfelt thanks. Thanks. Especially to the Rogue Gunner where I gleaned the idea, never alone.

Courtship or adoption, gone straying again?

I must be something, riding my motorcycle to work today and home. I seem to have attracted the notice of a feline from across the street. Well, some folks have it and some folks don't - or it could be that their front porch doesn't have the warmth of my garage and home, I am really not that attractive without the baggage of civilization's comforts. But I do pay attention to little things, which has its own rewards. Apple pie baking, pumpkin pies in the making and so far so good. Good night.

Just thinking

Three weeks of three days at McNeil Island Library, all Monday Tuesday and Wednesday - then I go off the island for: two days of Thanksgiving, two days of Institutional Library Services conference and training, and two days of Instructor Boot Camp (for training Riflemen). That will drive me half-way through December and almost into January and I will have not met my goals for that year when I look back from sixty-one wondering where it went this time.

I could go back and read all my posts and figure out if I did anything, thought anything or made the world a little better. Or I can just feel I did; remembering a smile teased from someone, some quiet evenings finished with some wine and cheese, the morning jog with the dogs and the heart walkers, the walks to the dock getting my mind ready for the work day, the great rides on the Trusty Triumph and the general awesome beauty of the world, women and wonders when I open my eyes and really look. But then, how much time does one have to look back and reflect.

That was about enough, and I have exercises and jog to do, breakfast gruel with banana this morning, take the vitamins, go face the day, books to order, books to weed, reports to prepare and information to find and as the things I haven't anticipated are suddenly in my work flow keep it all moving so it doesn't get jammed up, piled up and pushed aside. I should learn to tango, since all my choir rehearsals have produced a little appreciation for the notes I should be hitting and the way melody and harmony might actually be something I will understand in a few more decades. Do I have that long?

I have made a decision, about Christmas giving this year - I, William Earl Dungey, being of sound mind and such have decided that I have too much and it has gotten in my way and I will be giving much of it away to the Food Bank, Goodwill Industries and other places where it can do more good during the coming year. And because I think something special should come from all my financial blessings I am making a cash contribution to Project Valour-IT. I know you are all going to be busy, trying to get the Economy running right again, and tying up the year with ribbons and lights, and bringing joy to children and young excited folks - I will try to make sure my family, relatives and friends are represented in a small gift for those that we have sent far away to risk and lose so much - they gave so much and can't be ignored by the promise of a Holiday Season and the New Year - they deserve to be the center of it. Make sure there is room at your table, in your heart and your life - for all those that need a touch, a hug, some of your talent and time, just a quick smile and a hot mug of cheer with the music of life. Go gently and do good stuff, we will be better for it.

What I almost missed by being a loner...

You know that men understand women not at all - because they are men, and women shake their heads when men do things they can't comprehend (although the women will be sure they do Understand men - but that men are just fools or fallible). My point, quickly, is that we understand ourselves and our environment better than someone that doesn't live it with us. Trust me on this, Eskimos, Mongolian herdsmen and camel riding Bedouins live well where they are much better than I ever will be able to - in their environment and culture.

So in my studies and my storytelling, I have been bumping along on the American Revolution, Militia, Minutemen, and the Second Amendment to the Constitution. And for various reasons, me being a loner mostly, I kept concentrating on the People keeping and bearing arms - without the infringement from government. LEAVE ME ALONE! should be painted on my t-shirts, but I don't like too many printed shirts, plain dark somber colors. Okay, so far, that seems to be an important point from the Heller case - it does belong to the People (by only one vote). But you shouldn't trust the government to get it right, any more than you should trust a man or a woman to really understand the other gender. I don't trust the government goodness (and I do believe in fairy tales) when they spend so much time dividing the population into groups with different rules and privileges - I know why they do it and it never is the reason that they tell us, but back to what I almost missed.

Living in this high tech age, where Farmer Frank can plant, weed and harvest bushels of corn and beans that in the long ago past (1890's ?) would have taken long strings of horses and hundreds of men to produce on more acres (look at the pictures). So we don't really understand the old German farm houses, with the animals on the ground floor, the family on the second floor and the workers living in the tiny rooms on the third and fourth floors. We have trouble understanding community - we don't live in communities we just call where we live "a bedroom community" I watched my wife get up and leave for the day in Korea, to help the community replant the rice shoots (they have machines for it now) but everyone went out and helped replant the rice from the village, they would all go out and help harvest (they do have machines now - which is why they have so many people making cars for resale in America). Anyway, those are just two examples of community activities that everyone participating in for the benefit of the community. About the only community activity I see now, is sandbagging against floods - and we are being encouraged to stop that and run away by our government. Mandatory evacuation orders. I must be wandering again.

Back to my point, when you live as a community you also protect yourself as a community, establish good manners, laws and priorities -- and the community expects cooperation and responsibility from its adult members. You will talk, you will vote, you will abide or you will have to walk away an outcast, an outlaw (those are real important historical terms of condition). The MILITIA is the community's military power -- we don't have that any longer, governments don't want independent militia, an armed and organized bunch of citizens. The militia of the 1770's through the early years of America was the men of the community - not the state and never the Federal government. If we had communities today, not ones that just sleep together, the militia would be all the adult men and women of the community, armed and trained to protect the community. From sandbagging, fire fighting and catching crooks and perverts - it would be the community militia, but mostly the Community that would protect itself.

I now read that first part of the Second Amendment as what the Founding Fathers lived within, communities where the people formed their militia (not the government's nor King's military but the People's). Until you build communities again, it won't come back -- there are some places in America that aren't just bedroom communities: but they aren't on the news, on the Interstate or bothered much by Washington, DC. But then once upon a time Americans lived in communities not in enclaves (computer caves?) preparing to become part of the Matrix.

Where were you? you know when...

My wife presented me with a problem the other day, and I gave her an easy solution since I felt prepared and I went off to work, stopping at the Credit Union to report that someone had given me too much money, $546.43 in round figures on the 23rd of October, when they checked the deposit they found it entered at a branch I never use, and they would get back with me about it when they investigated. Now my inmates aren't yet redeemed and they always tell me to keep the money and don't report it - about eight years ago someone dropped a couple grand in an almost dead account and I turned it in, too. By Thursday they found the teller that hit a four instead of a one and the proper account for the deposit, and there is a happier customer somewhere. Although, having read No Country for Old Men, my token Hispanic offers to take the drugs and the money off my hands if I wander across some loose loot I feel obligated to remove from the environment, I told him I would be keeping the engraved forty-five. Just appreciating fine mechanics and art blended so well, and he will never be allowed to lawfully have a firearm - I will have to hold it for him.

Anyway, the week is wrapped up at work, I have a story to tell at the Antique Sandwich Company in Ruston tomorrow night with the other story tellers for our share of Tellebration. Wish you could be there but only because some of the other story tellers really are great, and the food is fun - the closest I get to working as a counter-culture fellow from the seventies...

Anyway, I came home to a wonderful pre-Thanksgiving week dinner, intending to do my shopping and such tomorrow, maybe shooting and cleaning up the church yard and many things, for tonight would be watching wrestling with my wife. I almost stopped to get some batteries I didn't have for a flash light but didn't - I am a recluse and if I didn't have a wife I would be a hermit. Anyway, after dinner and checking a third of my favorite blogs, I sat down to get a quick wargame in to destroy my enemies and hear the wails of their women, when the power went off. Which brings me back to the title of this post, where were you when the lights went off?

Well, my wife was on the treadmill in the garage/gym, and the darkness with a treadmill that doesn't move suddenly is dangerous but she wasn't going too fast and she found her way to the family room. Where I was looking for the candles and match sets that once were strategically placed around the home, but our house is still in disarray from the vertical blind installation which hasn't been completed yet. And my flashlight is with my carry knives at eye height on my right hand side, except that was what I gave my wife to replace hers until I got D size batteries for her flash light. That isn't too bad - there is one candle in a decorative dragon candle stand in my bookcase behind me, and matches are beside the knives and a match can light a candle and destroy the power of the darkness. Cool, go to the family room and hit the switch to the gas fireplace - ah, instant heat and flickering light - so romantic. My wife finds more matches, more candles and navigation is now a breeze. But if I stay home I may have to talk, time to go find a store with power matches, batteries, more candles and kerosene lamps. I feel so lucky that I don't have to crank the tin lizzie to get her going for the drive in the darkness, some technology is still working.

Ever read S. M. Stirling? This isn't Dies the Fire, but still it is so quiet and dark outside our home, I stop and ask neighbors if they need candles, batteries or anything. They say they are fine. I do find power for the protected, down the road, and two stores where I stock up a bit - the missing batteries, two more flash lights, matches, candles and the kerosene lamp I have been promising myself during every blackout. I return home with the essentials. Back home to set everything right, plenty of emergency light, NOW. The oil lamp is so nice for sustained light. So I am set, and I call my mother to talk for an hour, after about forty-five more minutes the power returns and we can watch the last hour of wrestling, eat the blue cheese and drink a little wine.

Aside from the way Gravity Rules things in my life, Murphy has a way of making his Laws well known. I should have stopped for those batteries on the way home two days ago. Lived and learnt! Practice with one hand, off hand, other hand and in the darkness.

Back on the Island in the Library...

I keep forgetting the thousands of people that are waiting for news about the Library, so here goes. I have had my annual evaluation: I am found to be in compliance more often than not, I am a bit better when working with others, I am keeping the Gang of Three posted and aware, will have to check the banned books list more often, and I have weeding priorities scheduled with my monthly reports. I feel much better this year than last - since being thought of (and on record) as not polite shamed my parents' best efforts and myself. Only five more to go?

The Audit team for the ACA certification had their three day visit, and the entire prison glowed - but I am mostly proud of two and a half of the library work crew and the Corridor Porter as technical expert in the wax, fast buffer (red pad, white pad), cold water or snapback. They put a mirror finish on the library floor yesterday morning that was remarkable - and so I am remarking about it. If the bakery were open I would be buying them a dozen doughnuts apiece, might even plug in the coffee pot if I didn't fear it would spoil them. The Audit went well, the Superintendent sent us an email saying so and I forwarded it to my bosses.

We have been hitting the weeding hard, and finding way too many books with pages missing, pictures removed and in general destroyed for petty gratification. Discouraging, since there was a comment posted on our Institutional Library Services blog about how Washington Prison Libraries have a reputation for quality materials and service, if we are a bit discouraged what is it like caring for a library that is completely falling apart? The destroyed books are removed from the collection, the ones that wore out are replaced - and I love replacing books that have been read a few hundred times to the point un-repairable. But I almost cry about the ones that Stupid destroyed for his personal pleasure - and it doesn't help when someone says - well we are in a prison everyone here is a lawbreaker. Our recently re-elected Governess has been scrabbling to find a couple tons of money - she will be right behind the next bailout plan - since most of her tax money is from latte sales and they aren't hot except at the bikini bottomed Latte stand. Overall she is looking at cutting services and programs and although prisons can't be cut - she says - the stuffing inside of them is up for grabs. The inmates will get cheap comic books and boring government manuals for self improvement in their future.

Which brings me back to the coming new Hope, I am thinking the heat under the pot we have all been swimming in will get turned up. Don't know if it will boil us before we jump or not, but I have seen two comparisons that remind me about how fragile civilization is for a country and voter choice having dire results - the election of Hitler (he didn't seem to have bad things in mind for Germany) and the elections in Rhodesia that produced Zimbabwe - going from a country that fed millions to one that can't feed itself. If pirates from Somalia, that fine country of gangs and clans and tribes, can take ships at sea and the civilized world looks on fearing insurance rates might go up, I wonder if it isn't time to allow the whole thing to collapse. Lets us all go hide under our beds until the uglies get hauled off by the enlightened government of goodness sakes. Then I remember that I am working in a prison library, the shelves and patrons are full of fantasy and ugly reality, I have to bring some order find the correct information and attempt, one patron at a time, to make a difference -- my posterity depends on it. Yours does, too. Be careful out there.

There are signs everywhere, I should prophesize??

I got up this morning and hit the scales, naked (don't visualize, please! it isn't polite), and I was 186.5 pounds (ain't an ounce of truth in that number), so I did it again, and was 189.0 pounds, same lie different verse, then 191.5 pounds was my high (nothing changed except time), and when the last time I got on the scale it was 186.5 pounds I decided to quit weighing - the numbers aren't really important - especially if they aren't true and you don't believe in them. So I didn't bother finding out what the blood pressure was today. Had my breakfast and got out the door to find a package from Freds in RAMSEUR, NC 27316 --- all night it had been waiting for my attention. Cool, my Marine shooting jacket (now have two to shoot twice as much), and a t-shirt that Defines Rifleman, wonderfully and has SHOOTING the only sport endorsed by the Founding Fathers, along with advice on shooting skills and TARGETS, lovely targets, lots of lovely targets. So I check it all out, and go back outside to move the garbage to the curb and put on jogging shoes, pick up the hand weights and go jog. Constuction on the short route, I back up and take the longer one. I think about riding my motorcycle last night - dark and cool, and if I am on the motorcycle and dry - that is always Cool. When I got home the lights were on, the garage door shut, I made the turn around and rode up the drive to the landing strip. Shut the machine off and back up a bit, and looking over my shoulder notice the door is open, my little garage door opener works on sound of purring Trusty Triumph and I am welcome in, to soup and salad and a kiss and a smile. About the signs everywhere? don't worry about the minutia, keep that little garage door opener working and happy --- She doesn't fear me falling on my bike, having seen that several times - what she may fear is the day I don't get up and lift it back on its wheels and ride home to her. Better do some more pushups.

I am a cabbage,

I went to church after watching CBS Sunday Morning - it was on but I wasn't. Practiced with the choir and looked at the pictures and displays for the 100 year Anniversary of the Spanaway Methodist Church, which had a circuit riding preacher for many of those years. After eating I decided that two miles to church wasn't half the fun of fifty miles going back home, not even one twenty-fifth of the fun. I pretended I had power and muscles and a girl friend waiting - the truth was more like the Trusty Triumph had power, and I went along and enjoyed the sunlight and cool, my wife would be many more hours later coming home. Lots of flashing inverted V's from other riders, save the bad dudes with bad attitudes - must have been ridin' Harleys. I get home eat a snack and fall asleep watching one network coverage of a Seahawk football game and wake to the Goodfather, and fall asleep and find myself watching the Sunday Night Football game - I have become a cabbage in the lazyboy recliner. Some one must have set me on 'day of rest' cause I have.

I don't understand memes...

Gimme 5...

5 Things I Was Doing 10 Years Ago

- Working as a newly hired Library Assistant on McNeil Island Corrections Center
- Missing my son off in the Navy in Spain
- Missing my father off to Higher Realms
- Singing badly in the church choir
- Trying to be a better man

5 Things on My To-Do List Today

- Clean the gutters and the roof before the next Pineapple Express
- Dumping the old blinds and one old coffee table
- Exercise vigorously, and like it
- Finish two books
- Take cool pictures of self in Rifleman gear

5 Snacks I Like

- Apples
- Melons
- Nuts
- Popcorn
- Asian Pears

5 Things I Would Do If I Was A Millionaire

- Not tell anyone about it
- Give money away
- ten acres with shooting range, swimming and hound and little animals
- travel and tell you about it
- Continue working in the prison library

5 Places I Have Lived (for various lengths of time)

- Minnesota where I was born
- Ligonier, Pennsylvania where I started becoming me
- Fort Bragg, North Carolina, where I was young and foolish always
- Korea where I met my better be better half
- Firebase Phoenix for far too long

5 Jobs I Have Had

- Ticket taker at the movie theater
- Dishwasher
- Rifleman and Machinegunner
- Primary Jumpmaster on a flight with a jump refusal
- Leader of small fine units

5 People I Tag to Answer

All those that read these words that haven't every looked at their life enough (not five, hmm?)

Different week at the Library...

Should have known it would be different this week, the signs were there in The News Tribune's frontpage. The prison has been on a two day lockdown over the weekend, when I get on the island, Monday, I am told that there won't be normal movement and the Library will be searched when they get done with the Hobby Shop, no stone unturned. So about twelve Corrections Officers come into the library and start searching through the fifteen thousand items on the shelves and in the cabinets and drawers, looking for contraband (tobacco, weapons, drugs, tattoo guns and inks, alcohol of strange variations). Hours later, they haven't found anything and are off to shake down the chapel. I had worked around them, answered their questions, shown them about the hiding places for barcodes and sensitive strips, demonstrated the security gate and exchanged "my thieves are better than your thieves" stories with the officers. The poor officer that had to search through some of the piles of cardboard packing material wondered how I was going to pass the inspection before the pre-ACA audit. I wasn't. It didn't help that nothing was where it should be, books in strange directions as they marked their searches, the floors trashed and chairs everywhere. I put much back but was moving mail and requested ILLs and answering email and reporting to my supervisors far away that it was happening - no reply. Outside the rain has been very heavy and constant, fears of flooding are building with the increase in rainfall. I go home to spend Veterans and Remembrance Day with my wife.

Wednesday, I return, it is still raining hard and I don't walk to the dock - my exercise thoughts have run away - at least something is moving, I don't seem to be. I have a crew and we start to clean up, catch up (socialization is mandatory), I mention the coming inspections and between everything else normal, getting the books for F-unit (Segregation and IMU) and sending ILLs out and answering the email we get ready to open after lunch. The inmate patrons surge in, having been kept out of the library for days, the two hours are hectic but rowdy and normal and then three inspectors show up, the Interior Captain, the Fire Captain and one other man from Headquarters, and they hit me hard. Daisy-chained surge protectors, unauthorized extension cords, not clean, not in compliance and not prepared for the audit next week. It is especially painful because this isn't the first time I have been told about the daisy-chained power cords - and I haven't fixed it. My bosses have told me to get DOC supply to provide, DOC says that they will, and no one has - but I haven't been vocal enough about the problem, so it is mine. The inspectors tell me to get everything fixed they would be back in three hours - it is the end of my day, I close down and say good-bye to the crew and slink home a failure again, except we did get the books to F-unit and served the patrons for three hours.

I sleep on my problem, I can sleep pretty well when I need to. When I wake I go through the morning events and pray harder, and leave my sleepy wife. I stop at a hardware provider and pick up two surge protectors of longer length and a face plate for a double socket. I get to the island and find the crew and lay out a plan, we work together and rewire the computers, rerouting cables and pitching ideas back and forth until it is done, recycling old cardboard, reorganizing storage, discarding hot trash, and destroying old worn, torn books, cleaning shelves and floors. Restoring organization to the library. We are aided by the sure knowledge that we aren't going to be open today. The Law Library is moving from upstairs to downstairs across the hallway from us. That means shelving and big giant books with lots of laws and tiny print. Too much for the normal Law Library clerks they have borrowed more inmate workers for the shift and no movement to the Law Library or regular Library by inmates is allowed. Sure enough the return promised by yesterday's inspectors does happen, and they are pleased to see we have improved everything they found, except the shelves aren't dusted yet - we would work on those cleaning things, washing the legs on the chairs and such - more to come tomorrow.

I am still working the computer, answering email, book and music requests and then comes an offer from our Program Manager to put in our ideas for our quarterly conference, and the other Library Keeper chime in, they have good ones. Then as the inspection team has departed and I have to send an email off about the better results to the Fire Chief, and I have talked to my Liaison, the Associate Superintendent for Programs about the ACA readiness and what I need to do and could us -- I stop and think about what I would like to discuss at the quarterly conference - and I write "I would like to talk about how little support I get in my work." or something like that. I am such a whiner, I do reply it to all, and I go to eat lunch. We continue to move hot trash and dirty rags out to the lower compound and back gate, do more cleansing of the library and shelf reading and organization - then it is the end of the day and I can look around and smile. If we can just steal a buffer and some wax and polish tomorrow we can really fix it up right. Well, I don't really mean steal, I mean borrow one just for the day. When I check the email I find two other Library Keepers that would like to say Amen to my comment or discuss the lack of support, and the Program Manager that would like me to tell her, in private, what I mean. I am such a whiner, but then all my buddies that help me get through the day, every day at work are all inmates, felons and you know what kind of guys they are. One of my crew is getting out just after Christmas this year. Telling the Program Manager means the Supervisor isn't in the discussion and that can't be good. Well, will sleep on that one tonight - they won't be ready to open my library tomorrow either.

Friday Update: Still not able to open, we went for the shining of the tile floors, cleaned it first moved all the furniture, secured wax and applicator and laid it on, four or five coats in some spots, it will dry firm by Monday, and we will put the library together again and open that afternoon and evening. Not too much traffic from other branch libraries, nor ILL requests, I made sure the overdue notices were printed and distributed, and moved mail and looked at books to buy. A nice quiet day, the crew and I were helped by a porter that secured the wax for us - favors, I get favors - just because... did stop over at the Law Library to see how they were coming along, they will be open by Monday if they don't get locked down again. Since it costs a lot of overtime for the special searches and lock downs, I don't think it will happen unless there is a real security threat.

From the Big Bad Wolf...

The Bookworm Award...

Rules:Pass it on to five other bloggers, and tell them to open the nearest book to page 56. Write out the fifth sentence on that page, and also the next two to five sentences. The CLOSEST BOOK, NOT YOUR FAVORITE, OR MOST INTELLECTUAL!


Okay I will play, the book beside my left elbow as I stood at my computer reading is:
(well, just guess)

"The response to the call for the minute men was remarkable. This was a touchy point, since it meant that the regimental commanders, in allowing the minute men to organize themselves and elect their own officers, would actually be giving away not only one-quarter of their strength but also many of their best fighters. In view of this, the active support that the regimental commanders gave to the reorganization is one of the best indications of the strength of the minute man concept."

from "The Minute Men: The First Fight: Myths and Realities of the American Revolution" by John R. Galvin

Now to five bloggers that may read and respond, well

My sister teaching in high school Just a Math Teacher not very original title but she writes about her work well.

Little Drops into the pool of Life, whose Friday funnies are great and what she cares about shows in her other postings.

North View Diary which I automatically reversed to Northview Dairy, which isn't far from totally wrong since there are real cows on the property. The words are worth the read and the pictures are awesome.

The Breda Fallacy.. Breda is working on nail polish and sharing right now, but she works as a real librarian in a real library so she probably reads when they let her out.

Oops! one would think I don't read any men's blog so I give you - Wyatt Earp from Support Your Local Gunfighter, I don't know for sure that he reads, there are rumors.

another Veteran that keeps a Library at McNeil...

Veteran's Spotlight:
Luan Vu , Library and Archives Professional

By Jose Cortez
Communications Consultant

Luan Vu’s voyage to the Department of Corrections took him through the Special Forces in Vietnam, a Communist re-education camp, a high seas rendezvous with a ship and then an immigration center in the Philippines.

Now he provides legal resources to offenders for their research on appeals to state or federal courts at Washington Corrections Center for Women (WCCW) and McNeil Island Corrections Center (MICC).

Vu started his professional career in 1965 as a high school teacher teaching chemistry, biology and physics in Vietnam. After the war broke out, Vu was recruited from local militia by the United States Special Forces in 1970 where he served as Platoon Leader until the collapse of South Vietnam in 1975.

He spent the next seven and-a-half years in a communist re-education camp until his release in 1982 when he joined his family’s bakery in Vietnam. He saved enough money to buy a ride on a fishing boat that rendezvoused at sea with an American natural gas tanker heading to Japan from Indonesia.

Luckily for Vu, he spoke English and convinced the captain (who was also a Vietnam veteran) to take him and his family to Japan. From there, they went to an immigration processing center in the Philippines.

He then joined his in-laws who already had set up a life in Olympia. He has lived in Olympia for 23 years.
“We provide a meaningful legal access to incarcerated persons,” says Vu. “I try to be nice to everyone, including offenders.”

Jane Parnell, Associate Superintendent, says that Vu is a very hard worker and doesn’t get caught up in politics.
“He is very knowledgeable about the law. He works at two very different institutions so he has to adjust to the different populations and he really works to meet the needs of offenders,” she adds. “He’s very into family, and he’s a real solid citizen.”

She also says that Vu is so adaptable and changes his schedule to meet the requirements of the law libraries at the two prisons.

Before coming to the Department of Corrections, he was a youth counselor at a group home from 1987 to 1997 and then worked at the Washington State Supreme Court Law Library in Olympia.

“The field I was in before I came to DOC was very limited and I as soon as I heard there was an opening at McNeil Island I applied and got the job,” Vu says.

Soon after, he became the librarian at both MICC and WCCW.

“I love working here because it’s a change every day and I like the staff. They are all very nice people.”

Vu has been married for 35 years and has three children. Outside of work he enjoys photography, traveling and reading. He eventually wants to write a history of how he came to the United States for his descendents.

“I want them to know where they came from and how their family got here,” He explains.

Veterans Day, who and where are they...

I studied a bit of history, my mother made me - thanks, Mom! And I know that Veterans Day wasn't always such, it was Armistice Day, when the guns fell silent. The eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month and the guns fell silent. That must have been wonderful and a bit unbelievable for the trench rats and their brethren the mud slogging combatants of the Great War, a perfect peace later ruined by politicians at large elegant tables with papers and punishment and plunder on their minds, such little men.

What I knew of Veterans from my early years was that they were the stuff of legends, they were the backbone of the troop formations and armies that I read about. They were the stiffening and the perfection of deadly thrust and totally unafraid in the face of thousands. I knew about the 300, about Napoleon's Old Guard at Waterloo. All that from the stories, movies and television - boy, did I know veterans and what they were good for. Of course being a Boomer, I was living with a veteran, his Ike jacket hung in his closet with his ribbons and patches on it, there was a Japanese saber, a pistol belt and an M1 bayonet, too. I didn't understand what that meant to him, why The Gallant Men and Combat! , some of my favorite shows, didn't excite him or even entertain him. Being a high school graduate of 1966, I knew the godless Communists were waiting for me in Vietnam, although I did waste a semester in Coral Gables before I went off to become a soldier. My father did tell me that I wouldn't like it as we said good-bye.

So I had to learn to go where I was sent, do what they wanted me to do, to do it well and to understand they would punish me for my failures and foolishness. Although the foolishness was always so much fun, I did have enough pride to really work at war and becoming a soldier.

I guess that I started to consider myself a veteran by the time I was a Drill Sergeant, I had served in Korea, Germany and Vietnam, had bit unfriendly fire in Korea and Vietnam and had done just fine. My father finally talked to me a bit about his war when I came back from Vietnam - he only had Leyete and Okinawa, as a Combat Engineer and a teenager - the year he lost being nineteen. His brother was in Italy and mentioned that he was glad he hadn't earned a bronze arrowhead on his campaign ribbons, that was given to the assault forces, my father had one. Another veteran in my life, my uncle earned a commission in Italy and stayed in the Army through the early Cold War years. I thought he was too tough on his sons, but then he had four of them. My grandfather, the Methodist minister and missionary to El Cerro in Montevideo, he had served in the American forces in France in the Great War, he hadn't served in combat duties since he was a Pacifist but he did serve. He spent most of his life working for International Peace.

My mother is still pushing History at me, yesterday's email:

Remember our ancestor   Jabez
Cleveland  who died in the Battle of Bunker hill. And our other
ancestor  who fought in the Revolutionary war, as a member of the
Virginia Militia, he was an Archer (last name, don't know his first
name).In the Civil War only Don's family fought in it.

Those Civil War veterans were named Bauer,
which in German (where they came from) means farmer or peasant.  Which
gets me to my point about Veterans Day, I have a point, really.

The Veterans that really ought to be thanked, are the ones that went to
battle and came home and built a life away from the terror and turmoil
of combat, that work hard to keep their children and grandchildren from
the fear and outright terror of killing or being killed by other men
trying their best to live through it all and get home to build a
different life. Don't get me wrong, most of them have exactly the same
courage to put on the war gear and go out and face the fury again, but
they also have the discipline to build that better life, the patience
to put up with a little stupidity and discomfort for the future, and
the intelligence to want to have Peace and know when it is time to go
back to War.  And to the unknown woman with daughter and husband that
stopped to tell me that she thanked me for my service in Vietnam, me
the tough guy that couldn't break through the fragile armor that hid my
pain to say anything - I want to say Thank you for that little touch of
kindness, it has always meant so much.  A Nurse and a Marine
are veterans worth reading, but there are thousands of stories out
there, think about the Veterans and those young people in uniform
becoming Veterans as I speak.

One sister, no known blog so I share

Mom asked us all to tell her three things we are thankful for this Thanksgiving. Here are my three:

Church mice - those people who quietly see what needs done & do it, not expecting anything in return. Those people who go the extra mile without being asked. Those people who care, when one feels few care. Church mice are most prevalent in Church communities, but they are everywhere - at work, in your neighborhood, etc. Thank God for Church mice!

Glimpses of God - this might smack of Shintoism, but these are the things of beauty, humor, or awe one comes across as one is preoccupied with one's own troubles or work. The sun on a fall colored tree, birds courting in spring, the crunch of fall leaves as one takes out the garbage, beautiful photography that pulls one into the scene, passed along automatically through email. Things that make one stop & just enjoy the moment, briefly forgetting the troubles one can't do anything about or realizing the importance given to one's tasks was needless. Thank God for beauty & humor - both God-made & man-made.

Love. The love of God for each of us, the love of friends & family. The fact that love multiplies with use. Thank you God, for your love and our ability to love. Help us to spread this love further afield.

Amen

Jo/Joy/Joycelyn

Honey do, and of course I will... to the best of my...

One of my workers asked if I had a honey-do list waiting for me this weekend, and I never do - I build my own procrastination pile and play around it avoiding my duties - or so I will say so. Today was different, there is the installation of the bright beautiful vertical blinds. The crew will call around eight am and tell us what time they should arrive. Yes, I am old and hired experts to install the blinds, and we were told that for eighty dollars they would take down the old sets and take them away. I even went to the ATM to get a hundred to cover it and then looked at the job.

First I have to move the furniture from around the windows in six rooms - I can do that, and did. Then I looked at taking down the curtains where they were hung, and did that and put them into the laundry basket for washing. All that is left is taking down the old horizontal blinds and I start doing that. Now, there is likely an easy disconnect system that has been holding the blinds up for the last thirteen years, but I am better at destroying things than creating them - I am excellent at killing people in bunches and breaking stuff - they paid me well for that for years. Anyway, short story I have all the blinds down and before the last one dropped to the floor overcome by my efforts and gravity I think I figured out the quick disconnect. But I don't have anymore to practice on to prove it.

My mother called and gave me a welcome break, she wanted to talk about some man that yelled at her and made her feel terrible. I asked if she wanted me to beat him up or take him out - but she is much too good a Christian Lady for her to think that was a good idea. My theory about men that abuse women is that they are cowards, that is why they bully and beat on women - because they know they are afraid and want to be strong and tough - they do need to get a new point of view - as they eat dirt after a real man tries to whip them into shape (jellyfish-like works for me). I don't think my beating them up will change them, just confirm in their mind they need to hide their abuse better or they will get beaten again. Anyway after we discussed all the better stuff about her life and mine and caught up on everyone around us and whatzup (no, we didn't talk politics - we have real lives) I promised pictures of the new improved home in the mail - I have the before pictures already, love digital cameras with lots of memory. Gave her my love and took hers for me and my wife, who is out doing church stuff - where is she going to find community service time? Some days I hardly see her.

Once, long ago and far away in Oklahoma, my commander asked how my wife was, and I had to tell him I didn't know. There is a lump in the bed when I wake up to get to work, and when I come home at night there is a meal waiting for me and the clothes have been washed, but I don't dare waste any sleep time checking to see what is under that lump in my bed, but the next time I get a day off from being a Drill Sergeant I will check and find out if she is still speaking to me.

I did love being in the Army and Airborne and importantly useful in trying situations, but I love my wife and my ability to slowly work through the short remainder of my existence on Earth much more. Smooth Jazz is playing loudly and it is time for lunch and to check my mail.

Friday, furiously finishing...

I normally step out long and quickly, the foot race to the gates from the ferry, and today I am a winner! I pick up a backup tape on my way into the prison, get the distribution from Control and open the library, turn on the computers and the day is fast and full and fun. Everything in its place and still bubbles of something new and something different, when the patrons show up in the afternoon they are loud and boisterous. I have three hours of roar and rumble of bass voices, then suddenly Recall is sounded and the library empties, my crew cleans off table discharge, puts the chairs in place as I turn off computers. They wish me a good week's end and one mentions he has a four day weekend since his mother is visiting on Monday. I tell them that I will see them Monday, Lord willing as I time stamp the time sheets for their departure. Silence, I put the radio away, turn off the lights, pick up distribution and walk to the door, going out and turning around to lock it. Check the door, turn the knob and shake - the library has finished its first week of November. Only rest a bit before Monday starts it again.

Uglies keeping one awake at night?

Well, I guess next Halloween we'll see Earl "sitting out ... on a rocker
on the porch, with a beat up hat, corn cob pipe, jug of moonshine
(almost), shotgun and hound at my feet with the King James Bible open
before me - and giving out candy and grinning at the kids with my teeth
out. That should scare them well enough... one of those rednecks that
the fellow fears while among the cultured of San Francisco."  Should be
an interesting sight - I'll have to see if I can manage a visit to him
then!



Well, y'all come, y'hear? The above picture was lifted from
Hillbilly Beans Espresso, of Little Rock, Washington.

Anyway, don't be bitter thinking this is King Charles the First
against the Parliament, nor are we going to go from Rhodesia
to Zimbabwe anytime soon. The fools and the stupids that
aren't locked up already will attack like the fellow in the one
of my comment responses - a college educated fool with bad
language and attitude but I am already on record against bad
language, I can't help his stupidity, but I try. Time to return
to bed and better sleep. God loves us, even the worst of us.

The best I get is name calling and bad attitude, nobody knocks
on the door to ask me to come out and fight in their joy about
the election?  No one fights anymore, wonder why that is? It
isn't civilization, and he already has bad manners - must be
fear... pure fear. And the worst that could happen in a fight is
to die, everything else heals eventually... even pride, go gently.

Ah it is raining, really Northwest Coast Raining...

It is constant, it is heavy and there is more on the way, the streets are wet, when the drains plug up with fallen leaves the roads become little rivers flowing to find escape from the cars spraying and splashing large fans of water. The large umbrellas come out, the rain coats and rubber boots, it is darker, and the rain falls heavy drumming upon the roofs and roads. The Sound absorbs the rain from the Pacific but the trees and ground want to shed it, and can't. Since the ground is already soaked, the rivers start to rise flooding in the near future, warnings on the television to clean the drains of leaves, watch driving across slick wet leaves and an example of a car that went over the embankment when it slid out of control.

In the library today my crew and I worked on steadily, the primary shelver was on a mission to find all the books I would withdraw because of pages and pictures missing. They are torn or cut out because there are so many stupid people in prison, ones that still believe their wants out weigh that of the many, and if they don't get it first some other guy would steal it anyway. Always remember that these inmates will be released back to your neighborhood one day. As I say that I remember putting about forty-two donated books into the collection, many brand new donated by inmates that do care and will share. When I put the newspapers out about Senator Obama's victory with his speech and pictures of his family and Senator McCain it was a pretty good set of coverage. In an hour they were all stolen and the local bookie couldn't get his NFL spread for this weekend's betting. Do remember that I am not here to provide targets and opportunity for more crime, I do circulate real fine information and reading material.

Ah, a day without real rain, quick get the bike out...

Yes, I did, grabbed the motorcycle boots and threw them on, opened the garage door and looked at that dry pavement - in the dawn's early light (yeah, PST!) and rolled the trusty Triumph out to idle waiting for me. I forgot a ballcap, and no matter how warm those gauntlets are, the wind chill from riding fingers folded forward, means frozen fingers! Did I mention Global Warming isn't really happening here? not today, Mount Rainer has a foot or more of new snow from the Pacific. When I had finished my 'to work' ride I stomped into the Depot and declared "So bold the fool with frozen fingers!" Warmed up a bit and walked down to the dock - slower pace and the cold doesn't get an assist from the speed of Earl walking. The ride back in the evening was better, the day was warmer, but I want to know why all those other folks are on the road all around me - don't they have somewhere else to be? So I got two rides in today, twenty-six smiling miles and laughing at the really good parts - and only thirteen colder than a well digger's ... whatever.

There is good news...

I am going to work very hard on becoming an American Rifleman. I can't be a Nation of Riflemen, but I can be an American Rifleman. There are tough times ahead, I need to be able to take my rifle and ammunition and make that well aimed shot and hit the target as I called it. That kind of skill and discipline is exactly what will get me to that great life that my family has always worked for, each shot is new and exactly (if one is doing it correctly) like the last one.

Those life skills don't change either, what has made my life a success to this point are truths that I can offer to others, and have. Many may count the number of dollars to mean their success, and others count the numbers of A-list invitations and coverage by Star and People magazines, but I count the smiles of the people I love, the laughter of the children I tease in their growing up, the touching of the elders that have lived it all before me - before they go away. I count the thank you's that I can respond with "It was nothing" or "de nada" and mean it. It costs so little to be so good, but it does improve with practice.

Yes, I will work on becoming an American Rifleman, each shot a work of art, a moment in time when the man, the rifle, the bullet and the target are one - dependent and yet separate - frozen in thought, action, follow through and release - on to acquire the next target.

Yes I know it is election day but...

I don't want a media circus using my interest to pump me full of their ad time, I don't want to think that commercials today cost almost as much as the Superbowl. I don't want to know anything about the election exit polling and predictions. I still remember Peter Jennings reporting Florida three different ways in one evening, and it took the Supreme Court to finally decide that issue.

Since no one is paying attention to me, the law should be that the media may not engage in prophecy on election day - no predictions of the winner, no reporting of the results until the last polling place closes as far to the West as that is - Hawaii gets four electoral votes, Alaska three and those seven could be all that matters. And only the votes counted - not any exit poll junk numbers, and stop using percentages - one candidate gets ten votes, one gets five - I don't want to know that the first has a hundred percent lead - I want to know one had ten and one has five. The voters don't need discouraged by MSM. Actually, the only two things that should be allowed to be reported - where the polling places are, and any emergency reaction teams for fires, floods and avalanches. And then I would also like the television and cable companies to have NO Commercials the entire day. Call it a tax that doesn't enrich anyone save for the silence - nice nature pictures and mood music might be nice.

Well, have a great voting day, the three from this home are cast and probably counted, and although Washington seems to be a BLUE state (who picked that color?) the Democratic Governess was reported to be behind in early voting - by a Republican sympathetic newspaper, strange days and stranger ways. Where is Guy Fawkes Day? Can't get here soon enough.

An aside, the picture is from my better past - many of those young people became just fine citizens of note, and many of them were members of the Junior High Rifle Club and shot targets down in the High School gymnasium. That small difference is probably only part of the reason the Nation is no longer as wonderful as I remember it then - but put the guns back into the schools, it would make me happy and I know there are some young men and women that would love to engage targets for score, one bullet at a time...

Raining, constantly raining, November has arrived

Not only do I have the extra hour they took from me last Spring back, but I have all the rain that I missed (lightly) during the dry Summer, and since I was motorcycling I wasn't missing it too much. The heavy drops pelt the skylight and rock on the roof, the water flows down to the gutters and down the down spout and out onto the lawn. The moss will love it, the moles will build more drainage to stay a bit dry, but the grubs and worms they feed on will like the moisture.

Hibernation begins, staying inside instead of running along the roads, my wife is much better about hitting the treadmill than I, but I can do it when I don't get distracted by what I found on the computer or the mindless mush of the television - now in HDTV - better pictures but same commercials framed by folks that don't know how I think. One day they will surprise me, but it will never get repeated. We did decide that the YMCA wasn't for us, the Air Base and Fort Lewis have the same facilities and equipment if we need them, and in the end driving somewhere to exercise only makes sense if one is going to be social at the same time - team sports or events for charity. Otherwise sweat at home, run that heart rate up and then get the hot shower and pose in front of the bedroom mirror (better not imagine that - we are Seniors far beyond foxy fifties). Although my wife did get some cute pink patterned pajamas and top to lounge around in after her workouts, I just slide on old gray sweats and a muscle shirt (muscles only in the name not on the body).

Cup number three of coffee, the mind is working. My blood pressure was good this morning, the weight excessive - stupid candy eating fool I am, should have frozen it until next Halloween, or taken it to leave at the church. Anything except gobble it down - chocolate and sugar - when it comes time to report the cause of my demise - look for the wrappers before your eyes - chocolate and sugar - no surprise. CSI will only have to find out who bought the goodies and charge them. See how boring that episode would be?

Well, nothing to write about, the darkness is waiting outside, the rain still striking the roof and I have time after devotions to exercise, breakfast, clean up and go off to work. I must pay those bills and the taxes, millions of us must pay the bills and the taxes, billions of us must pay the bills and the taxes, what was that about the hamster wheel whirling on?

For something in Support of Veterans' Day

Virtual Veteran's Day - An Open Letter To Milbloggers

I am an airborne Vietnam through Gulf War I veteran, all 27 years and five months and a day of serving the United States of America and our allies, many of which fought beside me in some bad places. I have never felt the need for Veteran's Day, but I always wanted the country to accept my service and that of all the others that wore the uniform -- and I have always felt betrayed by my countrymen and politicians for Vietnam (not the fighting there - for the laughing at us being fools enough to think we had honor and dignity - Clinton, Gore and others were so much smarter about deferments and getting out of country early - because they were smarter and better than us). Sorry about the bitterness, but it is still there and won't go away this Vet's Day. Be a better person than I, and support your service people - don't throw them away, they will give everything for your protection - everything.

Raining again and alone...

Wargames to play, rain to stay the day, and why don't I go away? Hmm, have to iron all the shirts and trousers, that will take the entire movie Road to Perdition, and to rest and recover from that Frank Miller's Sin City, time for one more wargame before I try to become a better man. Hopeless cause, no real mail, email sparce.

Flipped one calendar five more to go...

Yes, it is November, time to change the calendar to reflect reality - some months it is two weeks before I get to the last calendar - time is relative? I had to check blogs after my measuring, and leave a note or two - don't give up on Halloween - for all the little ones especially.

I know very little about music, I like it, I support it, and it isn't on my list of talents nor goals - but I am singing in the choir until the younger men take up the slack... and that could be a bit. Anyway I was recommended to listen to a beautiful woman. Younger, really beautiful, lady... and being me I was happy to go chasing after her - don't ever want to catch one, it is the prancing after the thought that thrills me. Well I found her and listened and was happy - sometimes waiting on the loading is worth the wait and then I noticed another song by the same fine voice and it called to me, being who I am and where I've been and what I know about the world.

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep every so often there are wonders in the world worth sharing.