Just looking at the morning news.... rain... here?

Oh, yeah, the weather for November may be a bit late but it is coming in today, the National Weather map has washed us out with floods and rain. So I drive the Caravan, and walk to the dock directly. As I walk I find a doe about fifteen feet from me, looking at me like I am crazy - she is in the middle of a condo apartment complex and she thinks I am crazy. Well, I do start talking to her, she doesn't know I have my hunting license, but she is kind of stringy, not much on the thighs at all - must be on one of those strange American model diets. But, like real females in my life, as soon as I start talking she turns her head away and starts strutting off to find a finer male... I really ought to take time off and go hunt - the barber in Steilacoom had his shop closed up for deer one weekend and elk another. Well, the walk was good, the work fine. The rains and the wind started beating on Washington and about 11:00 AM the announcement was made that the Still Harbor schedule was in effect.

Still Harbor is on the North side of McNeil Island, a nice harbor, and the seals love it. So because of the fear of getting stuck on an island with terrible weather -- a lot of people left. After lunch the announcements of what was closed, classes canceled, and there was only the State Library (ME!) open for business. Two very packed periods, but the last one was light, but until Recall I was there. The weather did let up a bit, and the ferry came back to normal operations by the time I was leaving, still for only a minute or the afternoon I was still there helping the inmates prepare for re-entry to the community.

I did notify the entire State Library that if they were coming to visit me that the ferry schedule was changed and I attached a copy of it. But no one ever comes, I am always reminded of that famous short story about an outpost, watching the frontier for the enemy, and because the commanders don't come out to visit, inspect nor reward the guards --- the guards feel more friendly to the constantly advancing enemy that at least know he is alive... it will be Veteran's Day soon, don't forget all those that you have sent out to those frontiers to watch and war on our enemies.

Tired out, and time to go to bed...

and I don't do half enough, I have to admire the rest of y'all, EnergizerBunnies all. Anyway, I have turned in my title for my Story on Saturday Night - really live. At the Antique Sandwich Company in Ruston, Wa. Oh, you wanted that linked, go Google it, I want you to show up and buy a five dollar ticket and enjoy good coffee, excellent strange local pies and such - and an evening of Storytelling. My story is "Hey, Old Timer" and it starts out all about me and then moves on to the important main character. Good seats at 7:00 PM.

I have to go shower, my wife's fine example of twenty minutes on the treadmill while I napped the supper away (difficult to keep my eyes open) made me go out and test the machine for forty minutes - yes, it can still bear my weight, the Country Music is more Rock than I like, but did enjoy the distraction from the blank wall in front of me... just me, the music and my mind... dangerous combination. Good night, y'all.

Well, the new Shoot Boss has had a great day...

Appleseed at Castle Rock, does. In spite of the potential down pours possible, the distances from home, the holiday foolishness of Halloween that one might miss (I gave out candy at my home to costumed children) we had sixteen shooters to learn from some dedicated volunteer instructors. Really glad that we fired all those rounds safely, that the groups were getting tighter, and the shooters got to do two AQTs and are eager to return tomorrow. Me, too, and I will like that one extra hour, this time.

How did mild mannered Clark Kent use that phone booth?

I am switching gears from Library Keeper to Shoot Boss, and I am just as far behind as ever. The shoot box did arrive, and my wife moved all fifty-three pounds of it inside from the porch. It doesn't have every thing I wanted, but more of some stuff and it will all keep to the next one whatever I don't use. My range clothing is laid out, the rifles cased, the other stuff already in the Caravan, it will need fueled up tomorrow very early, only two hour drive down I-5. I opened both IAAR and AAR on the Appleseed forum, and established a link on this blog to get to the public one. One last check in the morning of the load and the paperwork - I have to file everything upon completion with the folks back East, which will be fun, since Monday I have to do inmate payroll and the October reports, I did send off the end of October stuff today.

Oh, on my being Superman, my heart doctor says I am wasting my money and his time unless I come up with something better than a faint, once. I do like that opinion. I did report for my brain scan, to see if I had one, if it was taken over by demonic possession, if an alien life form is living there and spying on humankind.... results will be Monday. I do know that I really can relax deeply, that MRI machines are noisy, and that hospital gowns that open in the back are only for the convenience of the staff in covering patients, not in making patients happily securely dressed.

I never knew him well enough, too much time...

and miles between us most of our lives. He did pack us all in a sedan and drove out to California to visit relations there and along the way, we convinced him to stop at the Petrified Forest, which he didn't really want to do, and he thanked us after. He loved to play Canasta, nightly, the real game with runs -- even after his sight was mostly gone. And I think he caused the building of more Roman Catholic churches in El Cerro than the Pope was looking for, when you build a Protestant Mission they do come. My cousin took a picture of the memorial on the side of Friendship House (which is not the way it is said in Spanish - Casa del la Amistad). Earl didn't fit Spanish well, he was called Martin in South America.

Back from jog, just a quick note before church...

My cousin, a minister in New Zealand currently, was born and raised in South America, and she is now visiting Argentina and Uruguay and friends and family that are still living there. That was the background.

The picture is from the efforts of the current government to say that a previous government was so wrong. The reason I bring this up, is for those that still think one needs a King, or a Czar to get things done and have law and order.... re-read 1 Samuel 8, should be part of Civics 101, but the book doesn't cost $75.00 a copy.

It seems I have been outed... time for change...

Mostly it was a very busy, but satisfying work day. I got the new books and donations processed and linked and into circulation, got half the ILL requests sent, CDs tomorrow, sent out three bins full of return ILLs and some ILLs requested from us. Yes I carried it down the stairs in one trip, I keep thinking I am special.

A visitor dropped in, he works as a volunteer, helping with whatever the Governor can't find funds for, and since there is a hiring freeze that seems to be a lot. He remembered me from years ago, I had attended a Kairos closing and he had asked if I would write something up about my experience - he remembered that I had. Go ahead, ask me to write, anyway, he said of the forty or more people he has asked only three have written. I don't work in Kairos as long as I work inside the fence, too confusing to the inmates is my reasoning. I still help bake cookies at the church when I can. I gave him my business card, with the blog title and my personal emails on the back. I also had a nice talk with two of the Corrections Officers coming in and working, asking how I was, did I need a break - it was only last Wednesday that I fainted, wasn't it? We did get the Segregation Unit books out and picked up the returns, so even having things still undone (we had a five minute Earthquake drill!) I was feeling good about going home and returning tomorrow.

It is raining, I have mentioned that haven't I? and as I left the Visitors' Building I saw a man ahead of me folding up his umbrella, so I called and asked him if he knew it was raining, and he said did you hear what she said. She being the officer in the tower controlling the gate sally port. I said no, I hadn't heard her, and I stood waiting for the gate to open for me, and it didn't.

So I waited, and then the officer said plainly that one couldn't open an umbrella until they cleared the second gate to the outside of the fence. And she called me a "Jackass". I had been outed. I did mention that I didn't have an umbrella, my ID was on the outside of my leather jacket, and I am now known to the world waiting at the gate as a Jackass. Feeling as bad as she wanted me to feel, standing in the rain, at a gate she wouldn't open, not being allowed to verbally assault the Corrections Officer in the fine performance of her duty, I turned to the other people that were waiting, and explained to three of the ladies with open umbrellas that they would have to close them and make sure their ID cards were showing before the officer that had called me a name would open the gate. They closed their umbrellas and we all got through the two gates the officer controlled without having to submit to any further abuse.

It really was my fault, being a Jackass, it isn't the officer's fault that she had to tell the world that I am less than human. She does have the responsibility to make sure that no inmates or other monsters of various persuasions sneak out under the cover of an umbrella. It is really true, if I were to continue to work at a place that I am not given a civil level of respect that I am sure I am a Jackass.

First day of deer season here...

Of course I am interested, we can't shoot any in the Seattle Parks that have signs posted that there are no guns allowed - so I figure that is where all the bucks with more sense than rut will gather. Unfortunately for them, the rut rules, and Mayor Nickles knows that he was in violation of the Constitution of the United States of America, since he isn't going to be mayor soon, it doesn't matter. The city will pay the lawsuits, but it does show that fools still get elected to important positions and then don't know how to obey the law, doesn't it? Maybe a civilsuit against the fool instead of the office? I would be for that, his pockets aren't that deep but look at the message.

State Wildlife best guesstimate of 120,000 hunters looking for Bambi and close relatives there of, they had better not go to the city parks. I played a wargame, and packed the Caravan to go shooting paper in the pouring precipitation (RAIN!! with Thunderstorms and winds). I enjoyed the expanse of shooting positions, seems that those crowding me out the last few weekends are among those 120,000, go get'm guys and gals! I keep expecting to read about another deer harvested in Idaho, but haven't yet. Anyway, it was fun shooting, although I wasn't shooting like I thought I should be, wanted to blame it on the firearms, but they couldn't defend themselves and so I didn't. When I finished all that I could do, I decided to build my confidence back up and pulled the target rifle out, slung up, and started feeding it one bullet at a time, and shooting, one at a time, break the finger from the trigger, open and eject, cock the hammer, reload, close up and take aim and fire. Called my only flyer, and I was happy - that rifle still loves me and I had a group I could live with and brag about if I were that kind of a fellow.

I do think I am stuck in a different Century sometimes, single shot target rifle with iron sights, and that really works for me. And I don't have to hear about my happy finger, cause every shot is rebuilt from the floor, the sling doesn't move nor the non-firing elbow, but the rest does. well, I have damp rifles to clean, adjust and oil up a bit. Don't you just love the rain? Helps keep the blundering hunter sounds and scents down, but then the deer lay quieter than men, don't they?

Good guys shooting today, lent my binos for them's shooting too far and not knowing where their rounds were going. I talked to a young man (yes, they are all young now) with his new Assault Rifle (an AR with a Thompson Center barrel - sixteen inch) he wanted something he was familiar with - and was cleaning the crud off of it since it wasn't clean when he got it (?) someone was probably playing around before his purchase. He said it was for home defense, I asked why he hadn't purchased a shotgun, and he said that was on his list of to buy, but it would come after his CCW purchase. We went down and talked to another young man (I did say they all were young now) that had been firing his pistol but was now shooting his IMI Galil Assault rifle in 5.56mm. They talked rapidly about what was good and their next purchases (seems building an armory is high on their priorities) I had to laugh and mentioned something about the young being in a hurry. Do keep investing in arms, looks like there are young buyers out there, probably building them in Iraq and Afghanistan daily. Good guys, there was also a young family at the end of the line, all their rifles were the best the Communist could send America, bolt actions and semi-automatics.

Well, I have twelve new CMP chamber flags and one 54" synthetic sling (AWS all weather) by Turner Saddlery with the CMP logo, in brown, will look good with the M1 Garand, in the rain. Will leave the leather on for now. Leather like fine wood has a soul, as opposed to plastic and stamped metals... got to go and get the house ready for the return of my lovely wife. Later

Facebook funnies....

The children are beautiful, but the thug behind them doesn't have a hearing aid, hoping that he won't be mistaken for Secret Service (suit is way too cheap, although the shoes might make it and that is about thirty extra years of wear in his face and body), still it could make it difficult to get a job in day care, don't you think? You would be so wrong if you thought I was carrying a Glock that day, only a Colt .45 would have met the requirements and I fall so short. Still I do like that picture.

Watching in the wrong direction... aren't they?

Maybe we all are looking in the wrong direction, and that is when something to really fear jumps out and gets you... cougars anyone?

Looking at my last morning post and seeing the cheering over the breaking the 10,000 point barrier on Wall Street - one would think all those investors had read what I wrote and went out and spent wildly trying to get those big bonuses that Congress is worried about. I know that the market is only displaying the price offered and accepted by the buyer and the seller. I am glad there is a resurgence of confidence in the Economy, and if you really know what that means and what I meant you are going to make money.

Congress is worried about big bonuses in high finance - they are looking in the wrong direction - they have a taxing power, which I think they abuse, but they can fix the big bonuses quickly - tax them away. But they are looking in the wrong direction, the government is bleeding in money being thrown around, debt climbing and money printed in excess of good sense (that last is way too easy for Congress to overlook). If their books were my family finances I would throw up my hands and go a little more crazy. I am responsible and wonder why Congress isn't, they do look like pigs at the feed, but that says bad things about the pigs and that wouldn't be nice of me. They are looking in the wrong direction.

Okay, it is a strange day, maybe Mega Millions...

maybe Mega Millions will have my numbers for the grand prize! Why not, seems that I worked just fine at the WCCW with the women patrons and inmate clerks. Moved lots of mail, requested lots of ILL materials, and cleared many soon to be released inmates and did get the books back from Segregation and issued a new bunch of books, into a locked box on a heavy cart. I am certain there aren't as many women in solitary as there are men in the corrections centers.

But that isn't the big deal, not by a long shot. I remember telling everyone to write their Congressmen, Senators and the incoming President about how you felt about the 2nd Amendment or gun control or anything that you felt they needed to know about. Well, I did, and from one of my Senators I keep getting long messages about health care and other things that interest her -- from the other I get silence, hope she isn't ill. My Congressman is always there inviting me to the next town hall meeting, he does that all the time, not just because the Democratic Party sent him out for health care.

Anyway, today (the day the President learns he is important in the Peace process) I got my personal (as they can make it) letter from the President - I do have to admit his signature is artful and kind of cool. Mine and my father's signatures in script are flowing and can be read (okay, I have lost the last two characters in my flourish, but I could put them back in for clarity) but the President's is artful and therefore just a pretty thing without much substance, but it is pretty.

Well, the first mistake is he called me "Dear Friend" and I gave him my name, we don't have a relationship. He thanked me for sharing my views about firearms policy. He appreciates me, ah, if only all politicians appreciated me. He told me that he is committed to making his Administration the most open and transparent in history (why capitalize Administration and not History?). He also wanted me to know that my concerns will be on his mind for the days ahead. I would rather he fixed the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan or at least gave the nation a policy about them worth fighting for (don't hold your breath).

He told me thanks for writing and wants me to visit the virtual WhiteHouse.gov to learn more about his Administration or to contact him in the future. Sincerely,

Okay, I have the winning ticket, it has been that strange a day, best check email and answer and fall asleep in front of the fire place - it is getting cold enough to cause wood piles to shrink in the dark. I did tell y'all to write, the Post Office can always use the business.

The best and the brightest and the results...

Well, I was proud to go and cover for Doug, who is on a well deserved vacation, at the Washington Corrections Center for Women. Remember I do try to avoid them, and my wife admonished me not to wink at anyone while there today, laughingly. So I drove off and reported on time, in uniform (pocket protector and tie - the things I hide behind). I found I could open Doug's locker, and leave my keys, and I got to come back and leave my wallet, too. But I had no chit to turn in for library keys, and when confronted with the irregular and unexpected the institution shut me out. The shift Lieutenant couldn't issue me a temporary chit, and I could have hung around all day and collected my pay - but the library never would have opened. Sigh

I called the Associate Superintendent to report that I had been there and couldn't help their library, but I tried. I drove off, paid my four dollars for crossing the bridge over the Narrows - if it weren't so cold and the octopi so large I might try swimming to save the money next time. Anyway, I stopped at the Western State Hospital to report, request a leave and report that I have managed to keep two library branches closed instead of only one. Somedays, I should just stay in bed it is always warmer there than the cold, cruel world awaiting me - but then I could try to warm it up for the rest of humanity - start with a smile, a gentle attitude and sure knowledge that I am going to be loved by someone today. My supervisor sent off quick emails and got the corrections requested - she was going to cover tomorrow and Thursday, and I will try again on Friday --- wish me luck.

Why am I working in a prison library? or any?

After getting a sunburn on the Sunny beaches of Florida, Sunday afternoon, my wife says I am as red as a radish. But I was preparing to ride the Trusty Triumph to work and it was a bit chilly outside, not frosty yet but certainly stirred me to cut a couple of minutes off my jog because I wanted to go faster and stay warm as my breath clouded when I exhaled. Yeah, leather St. Johns Bay jacket, white, knitted by wife, scarf around my neck (flashbacks to WWI flying outfits), pulled on the almost winterized thick gauntlets and allow the motorcycle to warm up a little longer as I adjust the helmet. Florida was nice wasn't it? I waved good-bye and rolled off into the ride, and I don't have to share, go get your own ride, worth every penny and all the unexpected shocks along the way.

A walk to the dock, finally thinking about what I need to accomplish in the library, nap on ferry, and walk into the prison, okay it is a Corrections Center, but that is so many extra key strokes. I am on the outgoing mail, the incoming mail, and find a Library for the Blind bag, knowing immediately who that should have gone to - I know his name, been here too long? Check the four days of email, and answer some that have already been taken care of by others. But one has to look, sometimes they don't skip you and they wait. Find a message from my supervisor that says I have to get the branch manual updated before she returns, and I was so sure I had it updated before I left - put that on the procrastination pile. Finally I have a full crew the last one tells me that his unit was locked down - since movement is already thirty minutes late I could believe it. And we work and help the customers, I find small problems only I can fix, others they should have already and guide them back to doing it better for the library and customers. Sending patrons to me is only when they have done all they can, I get interrupted many times, and that sometimes makes me forget my place and I start over. Can't say there is any boring stuff in my library, everyone wants something from me - the hustle is constant.

Another patron comes to my door and I almost start to snarl, I am such a bad guy, but then I ask what I can do for him, he wants to know what to read -- seems he has a lot of time on his hands and wants to get that stuff he missed in school. He wants the classics and stuff the college types all know, kind of. So I hit Google and print out about three recommended reading lists - glancing at them most of them aren't on my reading list but the education and media elite think they are worthy. Sigh. So I go out and we start to talk more about what he wants from the reading, self education opportunities in the library (all libraries everywhere), and why he didn't do it all the first time years ago. I want to give him Ender's Game but it isn't on the shelf but recommend it (he looks like he need teenage male romance -- which is always competitive adventure not sex, folks). Yes, I did show him the Great Books collection briefly - but I won't start anyone on Dante or Plato, I talk and discuss some more and head for Heinlein - grab Starship Troopers and The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, tell him not to think about any movie about any book - books are always better. He is still oriented a bit towards the classics, been talking to others, and wants to look at Moby Dick and a Dickens or two. So I show him a Classic condensation with illustrations of Moby Dick and walk him over to Dickens and grab the Christmas Carol - since Nicholas Nickleby is way too thick for starting out. I then talk a bit more, another inmate slides a book about reading for self education towards him (now where did that book come from?) and recommends it -- there are no private conversations in prison, every thing is monitored. But that is one of the great things about real readers - they are always willing to share their books just like Oprah (yes, I mentioned her book club - he thinks he might like to join one in the prison). I do go back to the Great Books shelf and find Melville and Moby Dick, or The Great White Whale. So he thanks me and hopes he can talk to me again later and my day is done, it won't get any better than that, all twenty minutes of nudging him into reading and hoping I have picked books that will make him come back for more. I stop at my internet computer and add a couple of self study books for purchase, and the ones that were recommended by Bob to add to the next book cart.

By the end of the day, as I work to clear the paper shredder jamming (when you don't buy it you don't care for it lovingly) and wish my request for labels and removable tape had been filled and decide I will have to purchase them with my own money, since it seems the Governor lost all of hers, where do the dollars go? by the end of the day, I mention to one of the old library workers (a fine large hunk of a man - okay, potential thug or gentle giant) that I had a great fifteen minutes today - out of the eight and a half hours, and he understood. Yeah, I will have to remember that because they aren't often enough, but they are golden.

sometimes small town guys go farther than one thinks...

I have always called Ligonier Valley my hometown, but I didn't live in the town and was living on Darlington Road along side the Loyalhanna Creek that cut through the Chestnut Ridge that lay West of Ligonier Valley. I left for college and then adventures with the military service of my country and its best intentions. So I think having been elsewhere and seen and done a bit I can pretend to be a ex-resident expert on small town boy goes far.

I was thinking of that at the memorial for my friend and brother-in-law, William Gerald Leibel, Jr (Jerry), today. He kind of stayed home while I was wandering but then I realized that he had traveled to England with my sister to visit their daughter in her Air Force service, had gone to Colorado for the Renasiance Fair wedding of my brother's son, gone to Hawaii to visit and attend the wedding of my son in the Navy and in love, he did get around.

The minister said kind and good words about Jerry, and knew we all cared very much about Jerry and knew he couldn't catch more than we were sure Jerry was a very good man - in a fight, in a family, in his role as father - all a very good man. But they, my sister and her daughters picked a perfect place to say good-bye, it had a long white sand road to get to the park, the creek was perfect to the jumping fish and the dolphin, the breeze was cooling and the day was fine and we remembered Jerry and our lives with him. My mother had written her memories and I and my sister read them and shared our thoughts about her memories, good thoughts.

As I thought about how small town boys leave and travel, and that Jerry really hadn't, I looked a second time and realized he wasn't frozen in that place nor our hearts, but was going out with his daughters and wife, and his son-in-laws, and grandchildren into their futures. Kind of always there, a solid reference an anchor when you wanted an expert opinion - well, their dad would have done it this way, or would have said this about that, or not said anything at all unless it was 'do you need any help?' That part of Jerry that he gave away with his love will go on into our future, and we will be happy to pass it on, wherever the road leads us.

Thoughts on Registration...

Among the chores for today, was getting my updated car tags for the Caravan, and the kind benevolent government only asks thirty dollars for the tags, and then adds on bunch of fees and donations (?) until it totals out to $105.75. I went to a commercial place and paid them three more dollars for instant ratification. So I can legally run the roads of Washington and reciprocal governments that recognize the plates and want my lawful conduct doing good things in their neighborhood (Idaho, Canada, Oregon, Mexico and such). Since it has also been seven years that I have owned and operated the car, I get new plates with a new number - glad I don't use many motels that want me to remember that old number cause it is gone now. The Caravan is now 571 ZPP, and that could be for Zippy, but we all know about Caravans and Earl, Zippy might be correct for the Trusty Triumph but only on Earl's wilder days.

Then onward for registering my two rifles on Fort Lewis, and since I have a new tag number updating that on Fort Lewis, too. So I am giving the clerk all the forms, cards, numbers and best guesses, yes it is a twenty inch barrel, overall maybe thirty eight or thirty six inches. They didn't care about magazine capacity, and I didn't either. When they ran the Provost Marshals Office Ft. Lewis, WA Weapons Permit it runs onto a second page, I now seem to have too many firearms - fifteen is all that went on page one, one slid onto page two. I know there are many gun toting folks upset or straight out fearful of the government having too much knowledge about what weapons are where, and since the Commander at Fort Lewis (who has never thought through the implications of having registered weapons coming on and going off base - and not allowing unregistered weapons on base unless they belong to law enforcement folks) doesn't allow me to use the Post Ranges for my recreational shooting without being registered - I am content to register. When you look at my long history (over fifty years worth) with firearms and the number of crimes and injuries I have inflicted with the same --- I have to admit only when issued a weapon by the United States government has any living thing come to an end or grief, all my personal registered firearms haven't hurt anything that I wasn't hunting, with permission. So you see, registration does work - not that Earl would be a responsible sane adult male - some may think that was an oxymoron - but registering my firearms has kept them from terrible acts and accidents - 100% of the time registered. It really does work.

Now last point of today is that as mis-read and understood as the 2nd Amendment of the Constitution seems to be (I have family members that don't read it the same way I do, and my mother has a whole different set of views about law) isn't the government glad that we didn't write something like "The government has no Right to keep or bear arms against the People, every assumption of such a Right by the government must be infringed". Yeah, and when you think about that just a bit, can you truthfully tell me why POLICE have fully automatic weapons? I understand the military use and the tactics and training to make them effective, but POLICE?

So you want to make my day?

There I sit being polite,cooperative and listening in the ILS Quarterly meeting and I am blind-sided by Jill telling me that someone in the Office of the Secretary of State is editing our ILS blog postings, correcting grammar, adding pictures and other stuff that makes it better... I was almost ready to blow the building up, I have calmed down since and am not interested in getting the proper amounts of stuff to make mayhem happen, leave it all to the next earthquake or volcanic erruption.

I really think that helpful editing is like the defensive player tipping a beautiful spiral pass.... it isn't going to hit the target, not the way the passer intended.

So, OSOS, I think I am off of the library blog business - I really thought that a blog of institutional library folks with challenges, successes, passions and problems would be read by others in the library community, just because. Not everything can be entertainment nor entertaining, many of the blogs I read are just about what the author thinks worth writing or posting. And they go from awesome beautiful pictures to heart wrenching sadness and the Blues at their blueist. I know that when I did something worthy (not often as I should have hit it out of the park) I want to record it, I don't think I need to know who read it, nor why (they could just be trying to understand English from America) but I don't need anyone to edit my postings to their own direction.

Well, I am not going to do more than think there are an amazing number of fools and foolishness in the World, and continue to pretend that I am not one of them... I can fool myself most of the time.

Another day for the MOTORCYCLE!

And I rode it to work, and I danced it and flew it back home after - one shouldn't have a love affair with artwork built of metal and plastic fueled by mid-grade gasoline - but I have fallen from my ideal so I laugh and smile and get second looks from hot young women in SUVs with cellphones (wondering what she is looking at). Lots of real motorcycles out today, and we roar (or they do, I am going gently) but I am happy, yes I am, and just think --- the government did nothing to stimulate me, how does that happen?

Just wanted you to know, they were paying attention

I check what is written, and blog posts, and I watch for real people I would have loved. Got to be happy in life, there are so many Great Ones. Yeah, and he knew about shooting, well and for cause. Hope Heaven is happy, another good one to man the walls, watch from the towers and hold back the darkness.

Do read the story about the M1.

She said I needed a haircut, twice... I can take the

hint, get out of the house and do something while she attacks her procrastination piles (the whole works - laundry, windows, plants, rugs, garage cleaning, etc.). So I leave to drop off my prescriptions for later pickup, go shopping for Bonnie and Clyde and The Getaway (McQueen and McGraw) DVDs (no joy, only current stuff on Base Exchange shelves). I am reading The Dillnger Days by John Toland (required reading before watching Johnnie Depp?).

from page 30 and a Lamm bank robbery:
"As the robbers were getting into the car, the driver, an ex-rumrunner with a hawklike nose, saw a man carrying a shotgun walk toward the bank. It was the local barber, one of the thousands of Indiana vigilantes organized to help local police combat the increasing bank holdups, who had been sitting in one of his chairs watching a friend follow the robbers into the bank. When this friend, a very methodical man, didn't reappear and continue as usual to the post office for his morning mail, the barber became puzzled, then suspicious."

Lovely, now I know why Indiana gunnies rock - precedent! shotgun armed barbers! Okay, it was in 1930 before the government started snipping manly body parts away.

I did buy three DVDs, one a Sexy Road trip (on motorcycles, a B minus movie?), one Jodie Foster proves guns are bad "The Brave One"?, and one for my war collection "Taking Chance" I don't get HBO for lots of reasons, but this one is a keeper.

I ran into a couple from my church at the Exchange, I ran into one of the McNeil Island post office workers in the Commissary and the bagger at the Commissary was from Orofino, Idaho, where I stayed while watching the Boomershoot (says he hasn't been back in years - another retired service person - enlist and see the world and have no home to go back to, the towns all shrink too tightly).

Now to get the medication, find some rat traps (although I said I would shoot it if she wanted me to - I have a pellet gun, a good pellet pistol). Then prepare for the rest of my life... or some such foolishness.

The work week is done... fast!

I was watching some ants scurrying around in the heat and thought about how fast they get as it gets hotter, and it is getting hotter here. I seem to have dropped into that faster is better pace, walking to the dock today, longer strides more of them per minute and my trek over sooner. Maybe the doldrums from lolling in Hawai'i are in my past and the hamster wheel is spinning.

A short four day week, and we finished overdue notices today, added books to the collection, began to open and process books from the purchase orders, started training the clerks in new tasks and established a rotation of two weeks per station and job skills until everyone can do all the tasks. No more territorial rights, seniority dibs and been here longest. Our biggest circulation days were Monday and Tuesday, but we are open more hours then and were well used. I did inmate payroll and end of month reports, still waiting for a few missing numbers. I gave warning about my vacation (working out East) at the end of July first part of August - it will be fast, too. One of my older workers came back from court - he will leave when his address is approved, so I will lose two of the current workers in a couple of weeks or months and have to hire and train more, but that is a constant. I finished updating the Branch Manual, if you ever come to my library and want to know how to make it work, just look in the Branch Manual, everything except MY secret password is there to help you. Of course, I don't have time to read how anything is supposed to be done, I am too busy - which may be why they make me close and go off to learn, discuss and review how the library could be working if I read all the paper and plans that pass or plaster against me...

I was inspected this week by two fine men from Department of Corrections at McNeil Island, it was just a quick look around and talk to staff and inmate workers - giving the inspectors an impression that the library is fine and functioning, and the comment about needing one more worker was even in the report, I found out today that the Job Center lady is on vacation and who to contact if I had an emergency, I don't have one - we are full up again for a little bit.

For those that can't visit, we have two kinds of stands up along the roads in Washington now, one dollar for a basket of cherries (bumper crop and get them now!) and the fireworks stands everywhere - yes, you could buy totally noisy bangs for your bucks. Now I did catch World News tonight and know that the Stimulus Package isn't doing enough for the economy -- well, the President should take a lesson from a salesman in Puyallup, and he has Nearly Naked Fireworks stands, manned (or is it womanned?) by bikini clad babes. And those fireworks and the babes are moving, as opposed to America's economy. Although, I did catch that Ford is doing fine without the Washington leadership and oversight... The not so beautiful people are miffed about the babes, but they have been moving Latte for a long time in that costume, and the owner of the stands says next year there will be more of them.

I know that the world now thinks everything is new, but I have evidence that some things are forever, what was Eve clothed in before the Serpent ruined it all?




Those Greeks and Romans knew a lot about tile.