The rain's been fallin' for five days a week
Saturdays and Sundays too
just enough time between the rain drops for it all to dry
and I have to keep believin'
The grass is growing faster now
just ahead of the goats predation
just fast enough to hold the sand together in the sun
and I think I like believin'
I know that some would think I'm foolin'
foolin' myself and all I try to talk into fantasy
but believin's only halfway gone to being there
where I think maybe we all need to be
I know that some would think I'm foolish
foolish for thinkin' in terms of fairy tales and tree huggin'
but foolishness is halfway there to innocence
that land beyond knowing a tad to much to be happy
The rain's been kind for all this long long summer
workdays, vacation days too
just enough to keep me in clean till the dirty comes callin'
and I WILL keep believin'
believing in you.......
I am rarely in a good mood after watching the evening news, and today is no exception. Before I get to the why and wherefores, perhaps you wonder why I expose myself to daily doses of media if it gets my blood pressure in the upper ranges. Well, quite simply, it's the concept of "forewarned is forearmed". I want to know that killer asteroid is on it's way so I can be hugging my loved ones when it hits. I want to know that the price of something is going to skyrocket so that I can consider alternatives or cutting back. I want to know that the fascist wing of the Republican Party is starting to behave alot like Serbians so I can have my cure for that ready. So what if it all pisses me off? I'd rather be pissed off than pissed ON.
So today a fine gentleman strolled into a Unitarian Universalist Church (full of children, no less) and began to educate the congregation on the operation of a 12 gauge shotgun. A whole bunch of people got hurt badly, one died. The police suspect this might have been a "hate crime". You THINK? I would hate to think someone with Jesus in his heart and love for his fellow man thought killing people in cold blood was a right good thing to do. This church just so happens to welcome your average marginalized amongst us, such as gays. Damn, they must have heard Jesus saying something about loving everybody! How DARE they!? Why, a good BAPTIST congregation would NEVER think of allowing those SINNERS to worship in "the house of the Lord". God would be sooooo pissed, now wouldn't he? So, I imagine, since he couldn't get a crack at a homosexual in a "regular" church, this person, who I have no doubt heard voices in his head telling him to do so, had to go looking for them in a place where (GASP!) they would be welcome to praise God. Can't have people like THAT praising God, now could he........
You might notice that GOD never seems to get around to SMITING people like this. He SMIT those terrible sinners in New Orleans, but a cold blooded murderer? Naw, I suppose GOD allows such nut cases to do their thing according to his "mysterious ways" policy. He didn't interfere with Hitler, Stalin, or that Killer clown, either. Mysterious indeed........
Also, thanks to our new found lust for cooking oils that don't kill us, the indonesian government is allowing the wholesale slaughter of Orangoutangs, pushing them ever closer to the final extinction. There natural habitat is being slashed and burnt and cleared out for cropland for palm, and of course when the happy-go-lucky apes stroll out of their ever-constricting forest to sample a few plants, the farmers freak and chop them up with their machetes. I am starting to associate the machete with the very concept of evil, since it seems that every genocide, ethnic cleansing, wildlife slaughter seems to star this cheap and easy cutting tool. I wonder if all of these people had clauses in THEIR constitutions protecting their right to bear machetes? I would dearly love to pry a few thousand of those long knives out of some cold, dead fingers. I may be Wiccan, but I am not a roll over and die kind of Wiccan, not THIS one. Justice has to figure into the cosmic scheme of things SOMEwhere. Sitting back and being assured that yea, they will get THEIRS, is cold comfort to an extinct race of anything, so please, don't try and comfort me with Karma. It won't comfort the few remaining great apes.
We should have an annual "Kiss a Species Goodbye" day, chronicling the passing of whatever unfortunate animal we drove to extinction that year. We should make a real big deal about it, praising all the actors who made such a distinction possible. Give them plagues and awards and pictures of their smiling faces on a huge billboard and televise it all over the world like they do Earth day. Well, c'mon, if we are gonna act so damn human, might as well celebrate it, right?
Back here at Pendragon Hold, it has been raining every frickin day for the last month at least, and now I am beginning to suspect where all of California's water has gone. It's here. You guys are welcome to come take it back home. We have plenty now.
The PURPLE room is now finished, except for the trim, which THE Wife is doing in......you guessed it.....BLACK. Hey, she's a Witch, what do you expect?
I just made Frozen Pina Colada's in the blender and we'll be watching a movie as soon as America's Funniest Home Videos is over. Knowing my luck, Pina Coladas are indirectly responsible for the demise of some obscure snail somewhere. Sigh, oh well.........Salute!
You have just experienced another episode of "These Thoughts Escape Me". Be assured our security personnel are on the job, rounding those stray thoughts up and putting them back where they belong. Thank you for visiting.
The saga continues.........today I got an extra day off due to low census at the job, which delighted THE Wife to no end, not for having more time with me, since she had to work anyway, but for the work I get to do HERE, and she don't pay overtime. We had decided to prime the other three walls after the slightly unsatisfactory results we got on the first wall without primer, so that had already been done, and today I laid down the first coat of purple over the primer. You would THINK there would be an OBVIOUS improvement visible right off the bat, but you'd be wrong. I still have to have this first coat dry before I can make any judgements, but something tells me there's gonna have to be two coats despite the primer. I thought that rollers always lay down a nice, complete, even coat of paint, but instead these things seem to pull away half as much paint on the return stroke as went on with the first. It's aggravating. I have decided I do not like textured wall board.
We received a letter from the IRS. Panic ensued in my heart. With not-so-steady hands I ripped open the envelope and............they simply wanted a signature on a form to go along with the online filing we did this year.
I was VERY happy to comply.
FINALLY, something I wished would be done for years, has been done, not by a President, but by a candidate, but at least Barak Obama had the guts and honesty to do it. Yep, folks, he admitted to a humongous crowd of Germans that we, the United States of America, sometimes made (GASP, how DARE he suggest?!) mistakes, and that we could be better than we had been. Well, folks, I know some of you think that it is sacrilegious to suggest to someone other than our own that we as a nation are not perfect, and that we can actually be sorry for some of the choices some of our leaders have made in our name, but the alternative, which is holier-than-thou arrogance, has done more damage to our image as an example to follow than any terrorist could inflict on us. Yes, Kansas, we will soon (thou not soon enough) be rid of a stain on our presidency, and we, with the Gods' good graces, will soon see him replaced by a man who can lead us back on the path to a bright future that we are long overdue to enjoy. Providing of course he can force past the special interests and a lack-luster congress the work necessary to save our butts from the worst effects of global warming. Thank you, Mr. Obama, for showing our human face without embarrassing us before the world stage. Who else could have done it more eloquently?
There you have it, my usual mix of fact and fantasy, chronicle and crankiness, with a little eye candy thrown in to save the day. Have a blessed day and come back and see us soon.
As so often is the case with married life, a man's day off rests upon the whims of wives, and thus I spent this one within a house in disarray, furniture and stuff scattered about as we make room to paint her work room that witchy shade of purple she wanted. Looks more like grape cool-aid to me, but then, I'm no Picasso, am I? I also had dishes, laundry, cats, a dog, and goats to tend to. Listening to internet radio or NPR, the day passes easily, as I have no deadline to meet for any of these tasks.
I also get to share some chat time with Eddy in Iraq and Paul in Arizona. It amazes me when I stop to think about it, how nowadays you can communicate instantly with anyone on the planet with the right equipment and connections, when only 30 years ago such capabilities would have been solely the purview of some agency with access to super-secret high technology like the NSA. Hell, I have no doubt that I could target a hellfire missile onto some hapless sheep herder in the middle of Afghanistan with this computer if I only knew the right URL and had the proper flight control program installed. Not that I would WANT that kind of god-like power.
Then again, maybe I would....hehe.
And now to the news. It seems that hundreds of young, DEAD penguins are NOT washing up on the shores of South America, as the continuing weird consequences of Global Warming ARE NOT being visited upon the landmass of Antarctica. The Southern-most area of our globe is now NOT experiencing something that has never occurred before in recorded history, such as actual blizzards with real snow and freezing rains which drench then kill baby penguins in their nesting areas. I'm so glad that global warming is nothing but a liberal conspiracy to rob hard working oil barons of their hard-earned oil wealth, otherwise I would actually be alarmed and might want to do something about it, like back up some dump-trucks full of plastic, oil coated flotsam onto the property of their McMansions and give THEM a dose of what it's like to have this crap dumped on THEM. Yes, it would be terrible, being an entitled American and all, if I had to pull my fat head out of the sand and notice anything strange going on in the world that might have anything to do with my opulent demands for a larger-than-life lifestyle that nobody can afford to sustain and still hope to save this planet from the results. I wish I could afford an SUV so that I could drive down to the marina and offer to dust the interior of one of these fine capitalist yachts just to show my appreciation for their contributions to our superior culture.
When Rome burned, did it smell like toast? I like toast. Especially garlic toast. TEXAS garlic toast. You DO know that anything with TEXAS next to it is bigger than anything else, right?
Oh, hell, what am I thinking? I want some ALASKAN toast!
No slice of toast too big for THIS 'merkin, nosiree!
I have to go puke now............
It is with aggravating regularity, it seems, that I come to you to to report of a passing here at Pendragon Hold. We are an ark of miniscule proportions, with our animals of various persuasions, such as dog, cat, lizard, and goat, and as such, sometimes a member of our extended family passes beyond our veil prematurely, and thus we are left to ponder the whys and wherefores of life, awaiting our own time when we too will take our turn and leave our loved ones to carry on with the toil of living.
This morning I attended the task of visiting the goat pen to feed our ever-hungry charges, and was shocked and grief-stricken to discover our juvenile buck Pepper dead upon the ground, no cause of death evident, nothing to explain this tragedy. I could only imagine that Pepper had braved the horns and strength of our big goat Billy once too often, brave little fuck that he was, and perhaps suffered some internal injury as a result. Pepper never backed down from anyone or anything, and would throw himself bodily into the feed trough to ensure his own portion of a day's feed, and Billy, being the big bad goat he imagined himself to be, would butt this little guy something fierce in his efforts to dislodge him from his path to the grains. Pepper always seemed quite capable of taking whatever Billy would dish out, absorbing the punishment happily, it seemed, for he never complained and never fled from those horns. This may have been his undoing.
So, as has happened on many a night beneath Momma Moon, we set flame to the pyre, and bid Pepper a sad farewell as we assisted him on his way to the green, verdant pastures of Summerland, where ALL life forms find there rest before the God/Goddess/Powers that be decide where next one is to task him/her/itself in the continuing saga of life. I accept some measure of blame in this incident, feeling that perhaps I should have kept the little guy apart from the bigger goat, and hopefully the lesson I have learned this day will help me to ensure that such a mistake does not rob some future creature in MY charge an early end to their adventure on this plane. Pepper, please forgive me.
I guess there are other occurrences I could enlighten my audience upon this night, but somehow I am not up to it, and I beg your forbearance in this matter. I am a steward, and a poor one, and some measure of reflection is in order.
Until the morrow when happier reports will grace this page........Blessed Be.
The castle is in a sort of disaray as the Queen Witch tears apart her workshop so that we can paint it a Witchy sort of purple color that agrees with her creative process. I am not impressed with the paintability of this slick wall board that they wall these manufactured domiciles with, so it seems it will take at least two coats in order to conceal the sins beneath. On top of this color purple she intends to sprinkle silver stars. I think I could murder Martha Stewart simply by inviting her blindfolded to this abode and removing the blindfold without warning as to the eclectic nightmare she is about to be faced with. Our eyes, though, are easily bored, and all this colorful business pleases us much more than the sterile "high" art that some, most often those with sufficient funds to toss to the winds, would find palatable. It IS a clean machine, my friends.
THE resident offspring continues to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune in regards to the tender mercies of her heart. I would delve into all this drama further save that sometimes these people related to me in one manner or another take offense at how I deal out details of some of this life, so I defer this time and leave it to suffice that, quite bluntly, shit happens.
While searching for an available box of suitable proportions that we might use to send a certain someone some material creature comforts, I once again had an opportunity to peruse some of my late Mother's sketch books, chock full of the beauty of a mind once so musical with artistic creativity it could hardly be contained within her beautiful five foot frame. The things that we do, in so many ways, if properly respected and protected by those who loved us during our lives, can reach beyond us long after our souls depart for distant shores, perhaps the sunny beaches of someone's personal Summerland, where one can watch the waves and never fear a burn. Thus I have these records of my Mother's artistic expressions, and there are several items of note that I wish to share with you this post.
It never struck me in all my experience with this woman, or even with my wife while she knew her, that Michele knew of pagan ways, paths, or Gods, but amazingly I continue to come across evidence that even then the Goddess was having some influence upon her. Mom was raised a good little Catholic girl, and fell away from that path as easily as I did, perhaps due to the oppression she suffered at the hands of masculine society and the judgement of her gypsy/artist lifestyle by an unforgiving institute of Christ. I now enjoy a certain certainty that my mother is now painting quite a few portraits in Summerland in the company of the likes of Picasso, Michaelangelo, and Renoir. Only now she does it strictly for pleasure, and not for rent.
Tonight we shall enjoy more bounty from our garden, some baby Lima beans and green beans still producing strong on these vines. Then, after dinner, we will prepare our care package with loving care, and hope that the sum of everything we place in this box adds up to much more than all the individual goodies we can cram in. I would like to think this box is full of love, and gratitude.
Cricket is feeling much better, back on her feed as fine as a feline can be. I know this for she seeks out the company of those who imagine to be more evolved than herself, namely, me. This is a phenomenon I do not understand, for I am a man sworn to loyalty to my dog and his like, not to any worthless cougar wannabe, which have never proven to equal the food we so eagerly supply them, with not one dead mouse in return (not that we are afflicted with rodents to begin with). As has been expressed in times past, I truly feel I am one of few who realizes that man has been conquered by a supposed lesser being, all without his clueless knowledge.
She cuddles upon my lap, and as if by instinct I stroke her back, then scratch with some vigor a special spot near her spine which comically puts this creature into some state of nirvana, which I suspect is just shy of sexual, thankful that I do not want or know how to proceed further in which I might very well suffer the consequences I sometimes have witnessed audibly in the night, those times when I was awoken to such caterwauling, such angry ecstasy that I wonder why one party to this knock-down-drag-out sort of raw sex doesn't always result in at least one fatality. I chuckle at her expression, which I so wish I could share, and then return to whatever other form of entertainment competes for my attention, usually the television, and she returns to being content in my lap.
Tis a strange union, this thing between man and beast, and I wonder sometimes how it came to pass that I am not identified as the beast, for I am the one most likely to cause some drastic harm to another for no reason having to do with the natural order of things, the rule of how all is conducted according to the circle of life. They would call my Cricket an animal, but tell me, what animal conducts the atrocities of the like which now plague those remaining in the region we call Darfor? What animal could orchestrate something so evil as to earn the name Holocaust? What ANIMAL would seek, being capable of self and pain and misery and love and caring and knowing of Shakespeare, the death of others in some way only "different" than them? What animal, in the norm at least, will hunt down it's own when it's own survival dictates that it's own be protected against a harsh world if it hopes to remain in it? Yes, I would consider removing those amongst myself I consider a threat to it's entirety, but who amongst us fits that bill as an entire people? I challenge you to find any such company, and whatever claim you would make to that end, I would stand against it. No, I would gladly be a traitor to my entire species for what it has done against all else that shares this quiet world with us, but I will not single out ONE color, or rational creed, or race, for some special attention for my evil, so proven so effective in it's abilities to know utter darkness.
So I will stroke this cat, and lend it some small and temporary measure of pleasure, knowing that, to my understanding, it knows no gratuity for my charity,yet I know that in some way, the Goddess knows what I have done, and in Summerland, all measures of kindness are returned three fold.
And I will take three fold return of what rests in my heart over any Christian charity.
It's a work night for me and I have nothing to be posting about.........except........
THE Wife thinks she lost track of a handful of foreign coins which she already has a handful of right where I always knew they were but she insists there were alot more of them and is tearing the house apart looking for them. Funny how these extra coins are utterly missing from MY memory concerning foreign coins, but hey, what do I know?
I received a rather odd and remarkable birthday present from my boss today. I don't recall if I ever shared with you guys how we deal with the dearly departed on my unit, but it's always been a point of contention with me over all these years. I imagine you automatically associate dead bodies with neat plastic zippered bags, but here at my place of employment, we have been forced to prepare our deceased patients by.........sigh........wrapping them in cheap, thin, almost transparent sheets of plastic, bound with strips of cloth, something so disrespectful and crude it has made something I never really enjoyed something I downright dreaded. The thought that MY mother was treated this way still sticks in my craw. This has gone on since before I started working here more than ten years ago and I have constantly complained about it, arguing that our patients deserved to treated better than this, and I don't care if a nice zippered bag MIGHT cost this corporation 5 cents more per unit, this has always been an outrage as far as I was concerned. Every new nurse I have had the unfortunate pleasure to introduce to "the way we do things here" has expressed shock at this idea of wrapping bodies in a sheet of plastic, and I could do little but agree with them.
This is where the pictures I don't think need be supplied would otherwise go. Thank you for your understanding.
Like I said, I received a birthday present from my wonderful new boss today. I had spoken to her about this sore subject a week ago, and today she presented me with a nice package containing a quality zippered body bag, which thanks to her intervention we will now be stocking. No longer will I have to DREAD the idea of a family member innocently returning to the room after their loved one has been prepared the old way. Now, our deceased patients will be sent out in a much more respectful way. I know, why would a dead person care what happens with their body once they have left? It's not for them, really. It's for us. And ordinary, basic, respect. Today I won a long fought battle. Thank you, boss.
Later this night, THE resident daughter discovered a rather robust spider busy building a humongous web right over our front porch, perhaps preparing a trap for flying creatures of the night. I have no doubt that THIS sucker could take on a bat or even a small bird should such a creature fly into it's beautifully crafted web. I wonder if this guy comes out EVERY night, laying his trap, then wrapping things up before the sun comes up. Maybe........
Before I got off of work, I suddenly acquired this strange craving for a fish sandwich; you know, along the lines of the BK Whaler, or the McDonalds Fillet-oh-Fish. Only bigger. So, we stopped off on the way home and bought the closest thing we could find to square breaded fish fillets, of which there were none. Still, with buns, tarter sauce, lettuce, tomato, and tater tots, the EXPERIENCE was created and enjoyed, and a craving dealt with once and for all.
The cat Cricket seems to be recovering from her bout with the flu. ATTA GIRL!
So, like I said, this is a work night, during which I rarely post.
Yesterday I became a tad more fifty-ish and feeling the years but today I was very heartened to hear of the 41 year old woman who not only won her swimming event but set a new WORLD record doing it. In this day and age of 16 year olds being considered over the hill in competitive sports, it is amazing that someone is able to prove that going down hill means you can go faster.
Now they want eight year olds to take cholesterol lowing medicines. This is just more proof that the gene pool is getting pretty damn shallow. More and more people are coming up with more and more health problems that have alot to do with poor genetics and VERY bad diets, as well as piss-poor exercise. Maybe if we withdrew our fat little kids from BK and PS3 and shipped them off to Grandma's farm for some healthy living we might could improve their health immensely. They need to get dirty to jump start their immune systems. They need to outrun some bulls to lose that baby fat that stays with them these days. And they need to eat some fruits and veggies instead of this junk food chock full of nitrates, preservatives, and who knows what else. Besides, there's plenty to keep them occupied instead of standing on the street corner shooting at people.
So far, it's a no-brainer as to who I am voting for. I am not voting for Ralph Nader, not because I don't think he might be our last chance to give the government back to the people, but because the people insist on flash instead of real substance, thus I have to choose the best of the only real choices given us. McCain, well, anybody voting for him just can't seem to get enough anal sex. If you really can't GET IT by now, folks, maybe a country like Zimbabwe would be more to your liking. They can REALLY put it to you over there. As for Obama, I think it's great that we are even having this "first black president" conversation, finally, after all these years, but we really need more than precedent setting right now. We really DO need change, and I'm not talking about that old change from one politician to another. We need someone who truly understands the real threats to this nation, it's constitution, and the world in total. The way Obama keeps hemming and hawing about his platforms lately really makes me nervous, but short of his complete metamorphosis into Jesse Helms, he still has my vote.
Oh, and Jesse? Aren't you glad there really isn't any hell, you lucky and oh-so-dead SOB? Enjoy Summerland while you can; I suspect you will be coming back as a woman in a Taliban village. Karma, the gift that keeps on giving...hehehe
The high price of gasoline just might bring about a social change that is long overdue; a reduction of the workweek, giving people more time to spend with their families and getting more involved in home and community projects. Yes, in some cases this could slightly reduce take home pay, but with the proper adjustments and reduction of energy costs, this may be just what the Doctor ordered for Americans and their hectic consumer lifestyles. Perhaps corporations could take a cue and reduce the output of their factories to supply demand rather than making tons of stuff and trying to sell it to us after the fact. Maybe the auto makers could just put demonstration models of what they have to offer on the lots instead of taking up acres with unsold gas hogs they have to practically give away to move. I for one would prefer to order exactly what I want and get it in a week rather than having to barter and bullshit a car salesman to end up with a lemon I didn't really need.
Our cat Cricket has been down in the dumps lately; we think she has kitty flu, due to the nasty green snot she slings when she sneezes. She is really out of sorts and we really feel for her, but there's not much we can do for her. Hopefully she'll get over this like we humans do in good time and get back to her lazy bum but happy self.
Well, that's about all I can think to litter the literary landscape with right now, so I will let you get back to your reruns, other blogs, or whatever it is that occupies you. My next post will be the Dead Wood version of "A Midsummer Night's Dream", so stay tuned.
It is the day after the 4th of July, our Independence Day, and I am well pleased with myself, for on this grand holiday (which I spent working), I was granted a fine gift, a membership in a band of brothers who share my disdain for fair weather patriotism and who endeavor much as I have done to shine the spotlight of truth upon a terrible fiction that has been perpetrated upon the American people, that being that we are surrounded by enemies that we must rush out to kill, all for Mom, apple pie, and Haliburton. I have been invited to write for a political blog known as "The American Patriot Institute", a somewhat tongue-in-cheek yet dead serious endeavor to share the opinions of a group of veterans of the armed forces who truly have earned the dispensation of their viewpoints. My good friend The Buffalo, a veteran himself, introduced me to this fine crowd of ex-warriors, and to that end I am most grateful. If you wish, you may go over there > to the sidebar, click on the API logo, and visit this blog, which now hosts my introduction as well as my first say in the matter. Even without my loud mouth, I venture it is a fine publication, one I think you would enjoy.
THE Wife and Kid also surprised me with an early birthday card and a practical gift, a compact contraption with a wind-up crank which can light the way, tell the time and temperature, point you in the right direction, and tune you into AM, FM, and the Weather bands on it's radio, should a nuclear strike or hurricane take out the power in the house. I think a hurricane would be sufficient practice, providing it leaves us a house to practice in.
With this holiday weekend we will be spending some precious gasoline to haul down to St Augustine, where THE Wife hopes to find a pair of elusive gargoyles of the proper temperament and size to perch on our arbor/entrance to the sacred circle. You'd be surprised how hard it can be to find one of these creatures of just the right proportions AND price. It will be a close and affordable getaway that we don't get to enjoy that often these days.
Thanks to the technological marvel of the webcam, I was able to have a video chat with Eddy, or young warrior friend now in Iraq. He looks good considering. I want everybody to know that Eddy is over there putting most of his energies into SAVING lives rather than taking them, as he serves as a medic with a field hospital in Tikrit. He has had to assist in the treatment of friend and foe alike, and with the Gods' good graces might not ever have to take a life himself, although their are plenty enough souls running around over there in need of sending along to the great beyond. Please keep him in your thoughts and DON'T LET OBAMA BACK DOWN FROM HIS PROMISES!
And Congress, I swear to all the Gods of ALL pantheons, that if you allow this maniac redneck piss-ant who calls himself president to instigate even MORE shit in the Middle East, I will make it my sworn duty for all my remaining days to see to it that each and every one of you become normal citizens, hopefully with a taste of the American Penal system under your belt for your malfeasance. We didn't elect you to outright ignore how we want our government to function. We want an end to this madness, and we want it NOW!
So, till such time as DUBYA attempts to start WWIII, I shall enjoy my week off and enjoy all those freedoms that my fellow veterans and I swore to protect, and give a hearty salute to those young men who carry on in our stead. THANKS EDDY!
I ventured into this day quite prepared for what I had already been forewarned, that I would take on this day and it's attendant tasks by my lonesome. Whatever had conspired to bring about this dread of a day, it truly mattered not, as I had been introduced most numerous times to this same sort of abandonment with it's harvest of harsh labors. I had, and would, conquer this beast yet again.
And I did. On this day, two souls departed within minutes of each other, while yet a few souls, much more the better for having known our company, made it out of our care and into the bosom of those caregivers on the more common floors above us. Both of them left me with some sort of gratitude, uninvited, yet held to as firmly as the highest accolades, for small victories such as these are our feasts amongst this famine of good health.
And it did leap upon me that I would organize a collection of a common assortment of those small pleasures that a young man might find refreshing should he find himself in a far-flung and hostile place, a warrior I also considered a man of peace and equally my friend. I will ask of some kind considerations for roughly a week, then gather up these offerings and with postal assist deliver them to him, with our and my thanks for his service. It would gladden me greatly to have received the same in his circumstance.
In my efforts I have scored accolades, and I enjoy them appropriately, for I know what I am capable of, and deliver what value it may impart to those that deserve it. I am a man who waited long and pined for such kind words, and in this instance, I am grateful, and I will continue to prove I am worthy. Karma demands no less.
Having won this day with no injury that I am aware of, I arrive home in the company of a wife to the bleating of hungry goats and decide that I am not so tired nor is it so late that I cannot relieve them of this hunger, which is brought upon them because of my obligations to employment and the hours they cost me. They did eat fully and sleep tonight with bellies well attended. On the morrow I intend to release them upon the weeds, and will delight in their voraciousness, as goats demonstrate so well. The fire ant mound, however, that I stumble upon in my yard, one of such great proportions even I am awed, does not entertain any such charity on my part and has suffered a sprinkling of a powder that will deliver their doom. All of us indeed are Mother Gaia's creatures, but some less than others, I must confess.
I pray that this delivery of a day's happenings have not aggravated, but have entertained, your eyes that feed upon this page in such charitable regularity. Having enjoyed the music of dialogue which an episode of "Dead Wood" has so entertained me, I could not help but to venture that such a painting of same said words upon THIS page might provide an equal helping of mirth you might find pleasing. If not, you may stand and deliver your condemnations as you wish, but I will not regret for having tried this once to flavor this page with something different.
Thus, a blessed greeting is given all who come here, for your visitations slake this thirst most heartedly, and I wish for you all nothing but the best that can come your way.