Yesterday, just a sleep ago...

The rain was at a temporary truce, fog bound the Western Washington, so the Trusty Triumph rolled out of the garage and turned on to warm up. At nine thirty in the morning I wondered at the number of fools running without headlights, it was thick fog. Interesting trying to gauge where I am in the ride when I can only see the road just around me, makes the journey a bit longer. I seem to be one of three riding a bike to work. Park it 'til evening return trip - what was that point about Daylight Saviings Time? It is so dark so early I have completely forgotten.

My sister mentions walking through the fallen leaves, the fat Maples await the stirring of my feet, and I am always taken back to the mountains of Pennsylvania and their colors for the weekend tourists. Homeboys soak it up while looking for deer. Which reminds me that it is hunting season and I haven't seen one - but as I look into a little valley in the woods, there she is. Looking back at me, pistol range and I am not carrying, So I talk to her about where she is, how she looks and wish her luck. Wondering if the hunters of yester-year would have let her go for another year or a bigger one around the corner, and would they have talked to her - probably.

In the evening as I walk out the gate of the prison and across the road I find another deer waiting for me - must be a sign, this one is feeding on a particular clump of vegetation and ignoring me, but most long legged females do so I am comfortable being a fleeting distraction. Again, we are talking short pistol range - less than twenty-one feet, and silly me, I start talking to her, too. Since the island is a National reserve there isn't any hunting on it, the deer population is large, only the coyotes and bumbling bears make an attempt to thin the population. Maybe I should think about hunting this weekend, enough to find some I could shoot, for me it is the time on the hunt more than the meat, I wonder if I can pick up a cougar instead. I wonder a lot.

Blood Pressure Alert...

Mine is really where it ought to be, thank you Doctor Jin, just hope my liver survives those three pills. Discussion at work about a brother (not mine) that had tried to hurry across America and was stuck in Michigan - and how Americans seem to push themselves to get it all done. Maybe I am not pushing so much any longer and that would be a good thing. I like to think I am accepting what is and fixing what I can when it is possible and not worrying about what I can't, there are a few billion folks out there and so many more capable then I.

Reading pieces of Paul Revere's Ride, and both books from writers that ought to know about Crazy Horse. Next trip to South Dakota and I will go see the mountain and the carving of his image. All I have to do is schedule the time to break free, after I get some new tires on the Triumph. Actually planning on motorcycling to the Idaho Appleseeds since a sleeping bag and possibles fit well if packed properly. Have you noticed, Summer is fleeing? Best catch some of it before it is gone again. My program manager is going to be on the beach for two weeks, and has one shopping bag of books to read and expects her sister to have another of recommended reading. I will continue to add more books to the McNeil Island collection, talk information resources and entertainment with the fallen (ever wonder where Fallen Angels go? Purdy is where).

Yeah, acceptance is important and being in love is excellent, and being loved is really good for that blood pressure... okay, I will still take the pills and watch Doctor Oz on Oprah... yeah, right.

I have to help reorganize this home...

My wife bought a new refrigerator/freezer for her stuff in the garage and that shifted this stuff and this other stuff and now we can bring the Korean Cabinet out to the garage and get more space for a chair in the guest room. And we don't need to do it now but soon, so I moved it this morning, I have enough that I should have done that I haven't done.

Among the things in the cabinet that we haven't looked at forever are the games, boxed games, cards and such. I come from a Canasta playing family that hasn't passed on to the next generation but in the Army I learned Spades, Hearts and Bridge (before Bill Gates was introduced to it). I also learned not to play poker nor Blackjack for money (Vietnam flashbacks).

Anyway the Stratego game, Uno, Global Pursuit and many others have been exposed to the air again. And the really important, RISK games - I had all three versions, have been known to play multiple boards and universes. I had a birthday in Germany and my wife invited my crew and friends and their girl friends and wives - lots of food, drink and fine looking ladies - and the men got the Risk boards out and we played the night away. There were some upset women, but what can I say? These were the days before electric gaming in one's pocket, we had to carry playthings in the tracks and back packs.

Just when you think you are hot, some game comes along and shows that you're not.

Time sure flys when we're having fun...

Yeah, even a quiet day - aside from going out to have a nice dinner - goes too fast, most of today has been talking about our dreams and nightmares, our better past and all the blessings we have had. The missed opportunities and the funny way we got more than we deserved and the laughter and warmth of three or four different cultures, hundreds of friendly good folks we met and the things we need to do as we shut down the operations as the body gets older and slower and the heart pounds on steadily. As long as it is together we will be okay - either of us alone is a danger to society, luckily we aren't as dangerous as we once were, and certainly better that we behave because love and laughter has been our brightest spot in the darkness of "THEY" and their conspiracies against our happiness.

I wrote that I wasn't aware that I was surrounded by so many beautiful women when I was younger, but I was totally aware, in the picture my sister Joy, my mother holding Paula (who was a knockout then and now) and behind the camera I figure my little sister Nanette (as an angry teenager). Best part of it that their hearts are what is the most beautiful, lasts long past the earliest wrinkles and the nightly removal of makeup.

Procrastination will kill me, but I am not ready yet...

Doing my bills this morning, as I try to correct the yaw in my course - and I look at my annual percentage rate on one of my credit cards... yikes! I am paying that much! Take the beautiful card out, get the stainless steel scissors out and cut that bad boy into bits. Step one taken, sigh. No wonder there is a credit crisis - who could pay that much for so little -- besides me. Nevermind, the workday awaits and I have to exercise more than my checking account.

Why I don't need a purse... or do I?

I saw this from NFO and thought about what do I carry - the basic stuff is the watch, the wallet, the handkerchief, the folding brush comb, keys to the car and the home. On the right is the things I could carry around the home, shopping (which I don't really) and riding the motorcycle. On the left is the work related things, take-home keys for the library, DOC ID badge, pocket protector with pens, and the memory stick on a cord. There are other knife choices, but the Leatherman Wave and the Case pocket folder are basic minimum. Come to think of it there are other pistols, but I really don't carry them unless I am going shooting. Add a digital camera in a pocket sometimes, and a flashlight in a sheath on the belt for night ops. The items on the right are prohibited in a Prison Environment, the items on the left are necessary tools of Power in a Prison Environment (very little power, only a library, folks). Anywhere I would not be treated as a freeman I cannot carry the items on the right - Communist China, Zimbabwe ... Massachusetts, Illinois - you get the idea, and the number of gun fights I have ever been in are somewhere in some military history or NEVER HAPPENED, no matter what someone told you about the dangers of firearms. I am getting too old to worry about carrying a weapon, but then I stopped worrying about heart attacks and cancer once I accepted my mortality and almost ancient status. The youthful immortals can plan for a finer future, I am going to be busy living what I have left. Take care out there.

Fashion for Carry Concealed Pistol, WA

So among my things done today was figuring out how to walk around with a pistol and be comfortable and keep it concealed. Remo Williams' instructor in assassination told him that anyone that is carrying a weapon walks differently because of it - and since that is a pulp fiction series I paid attention because it could be true. So I took my smallest forty-five and holsters and hung them around my waist - which as soon as I lose the love handles will give me room to hide things under the loose skin folds no longer containing fat. Okay, I don't want to wait that long.

Putting it inside the trousers still gives it away, and one has to have trousers that allow that much room to put a pistol and holster inside them. I have some, but if I want to die pretty it looks bad, I would rather put the pistoled holster on the belt outside and then put sports coat, long leather jacket or car coat, or rain coat over them. Still the weight of the pistol will drag the belt down on that side, but not enough to be concerned over. The most comfortable carry is with the weapon on an inside pocket of the heavier jacket, or in the back pocket of my blue jeans - but the concealment issue rises again. In the end a shoulder holster is the only way to go, daily, in comfort and maximum concealed - hidden in the arm pit (almost) with broader back muscles and pects helping hide the pistol. Just have to get those extra muscles from the prop shop that Johnny Carson used for his Rambo spoof.

Then again I was struck by sixty years of living mostly without ever needing to carry a firearm, and when I did need one I always had lots available. I keep thinking that I won't be carrying soon, and then realized after having dressed twice to leave the home and both times making sure I was carrying sharp knives - for whatever they would get me, that I would carry a pistol concealed as long as I wasn't going to court or work at the prison. I had best get that shoulder holster rig, for ease of wear and ritual. One magazine in the weapon, one on the harness and one knife on the harness. Dressed for the worst. No one will ever know, they need never know, and the rules say they must never know.

I've been asked to play, Start with rules:

Here are the rules for this little task:
1. Write your own six word memoire.
2. Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you want.
3. Link to the person that tagged you in your post and to the original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogosphere.
4. Tag at least five more blogs with links.
5. Leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play....

Warrior, wheels and wenched World's wonderful!



I find myself tagged by Breda, because Christina LMT had decided to share her touching (look hard for word/work play) generously.

Now the toughest part, not being very social I find it difficult to reach out to anyone and ask them to play, those that I could or would don't have blogs - sure sign of an ancient technologically challenged generation (MINE!). Curt, Wyatt, Jerry (looking for the Falkenberg fellow always), ToySoldier, and MC (because my son thinks if I had skated I would be doing what you do) would be my choices but they are busy folks with real lives beyond the blogsphere.

Just the boy at the back of the room, don't pay him any attention - he fades into the wallpaper neatly...

Why are you writing, you never say anything important?

Anniversary of my blog, NOT! But I should take some time to say something, seems lots of people I like to read are falling in weight faster than I (good for them) or falling apart with poor habits or cancers or medical nonsense - no one knows which. I hold out that the best will pass on too soon, and others will hold on and get only better and I will never know which. Really, my mother is still in a nursing home and my sisters and former sister-in-law are sure she may never leave there. I am saddened by those that do pass on, before I got to know them better and they change my life, especially. One blogger I loved to read dropped off, she was great but had a life off of the internet to live, I pray that she is blest.

I find that I am still running out of time, when I was sixty I knew I had ten years, well, I only have nine years, nine months and so many fewer days, and I am sleeping through parts of them with those wonderful military dreams with the barracks with busted plumbing. The airborne operations, long unit runs and running off armored vehicle ramps are all cool but why the busted plumbing and wall lockers that are broken into? What a waste of my remaining time, sleeping and dreaming. But not my greatest waste, currently I am wandering the internet looking to see everyone's remarks, when I could be working out, working harder, learning more about fixing plumbing.

I was doing a journal type weekly letter for most of my computer life, and sending it to my family all over, and my two friends. Then I thought I should try blogging, since I seemed to have so much to say. The idea was that I wouldn't have to bother my family and those last two friends with emails that were too big and mostly me, yes, almost all I write about is the wonderful ME. So I stopped writing letters and my mother went into the hospital, nursing and rehab homes for her improvement, so I don't have someone that would bug me when I didn't write and the blogs prove that once in awhile I have done something and have something to say... even if it isn't on the Presidential Candidates' list of things to consider for their campaign (if they aren't reading my stuff, am I reading theirs? nope), the Chinese don't worry about my take on Tibet either. So what happened to my family and pair of friends, well they are fine, glad you asked. I don't know that they bookmarked my blogs or website and check back in, or if they are smart enough for feed everytime I post... I know I don't use all the tools when I wander the internet, if it becomes too complicated I avoid it.

I am still resisting tying myself to a cell phone (I don't like answering regular real telephones in my home, and only do it at work because it is on the list of things I am to do - the inmate workers can't answer the telephones). I don't feel alone without the telephone, but then I jog and don't listen to music as I go - because I can run songs through my mind between daydreams or profound thoughts that will fade with the miles, I once built stories to tell while I jogged, that worked well. I become convinced I should turn off the computer more also. I am not an expert, interesting nor noted -- just me and I will pass along with all the others in Global warming, the next Ice Age or while pretending to chase long legged redheads. So slow in this older age.

Went to say good-bye today and wondered...

A memorial, a celebration of a woman's life, was held in my church and I attended. For she was a great little old lady, she had a heart that would have been crowded in a giant and she loved her world well with it. I normally duck mentions of death, especially if I know the person and want to remember them alive -- in my mind they never leave, their memory and spirit are always present. I find the pictures of her as a young woman with a short skirt and a hulking dashing boy friend leaning on a truck interesting - I certainly didn't know her then, looking at her grand-daughter I can imagine her young and lovely, but I knew her as elder and frail and interested and happy. Her husband is going to be lost for a bit, she was the center of his world.

I keep reading about war, for I pretend that I understand it too well, and I found this on the Rogue Gunner's blog. My concerns about cultures that risk their women fade as I read and wonder at this pilot and her duty well done. Never doubted their bravery, never doubted their skills, only wonder at our culture's wasting warriors and wenches for fat politicians... I am probably wrong to value women as potential mothers, there are so many of them that won't be, shouldn't be, and can't be... but still, I think a loving mother is the best thing for a baby and child, and no government program will ever match nature's.

Old Dogs and new Tricks...

My program manager sent a new master time sheet for keeping the records of the hours we are open and instructions, along with a sample that she doesn't really want me to follow exactly but close. So I try to save a copy of the master with the new title, and the computer tells me that the form is protected unless I have the password to modify it. Ah, I don't have the password, and when I report to the person that sent the form I can't use I get silence. It doesn't matter, if I can't do my job because I don't have the essentials then I do the best I can after I notify the boss. I started one that I could modify, but not based on the one she insisted.

I also find that I no longer have motorcycle insurance, and I was sure I paid that online two weeks ago with my credit card. When I check the insurer has no such record but I am talking to a computer which sounds pretty smart, but wasn't that the same computer that I paid? I check the credit card company and get a live person (hurrah!) and find no record of the payment I thought I had made, must have only happened in my dreams. Okay, today I go find a real person and buy real motorcycle insurance this morning. I will pay by check and then go visit my Credit Union to record the new insurance, before the State comes after my tags. Real money and real people are so much better than this virtual stuff sent across the cyberspace. But I was already moving away from trusting the computers to be friendly to me, locked me out of my online service - for my own protection, from me and my old man mistakes.

I have often said things about not carrying a pistol since my life has been mostly fightin' free. But my wife went to her child care duties yesterday and found the parents of one of her favorite babies (they all become favorites quickly), murdered - some left over romantic possessive jealousy rotted into death for the betterment of the stupid murderous person... and it isn't going to get better, but the baby is lucky in that she is too young to remember the missing parents. Not enough hand to hand fighting going on? Would have been better for all involved if they had just punched and kicked on each other until they got tired and then gone and washed up. It didn't happen that way and I don't get all I ever wanted anyway. I had best go learn those new tricks before the computer messes me up some more.