Happy New Year

Please sit with me for a moment ...

Happy New Year to old friends and new. I hope we are all able to spend virtual time together in 2010. Most of us will probably never meet in person, but I have been blessed with the time we have been together by way of our blogs, Flickr, and anywhere else our lives have touched, if only for a brief moment. Thank you for all your sharing and caring in 2009. See you next year! ♥

A salute to Obama openness

Would conservative goddess G.W. Bush have done what President Obama did by saying that the intelligence agencies of this nation screwed up by allowing a suspected terrorist to board a plane with materials and intent to destroy the craft and kill the people aboard? Bush probably would have said the same thing, but you can bet your sweet bippy he would not have done so in public or for the public record. For a change, it is refreshing to have a bit of openness in our government. I salute you, Mr. Obama; in my eyes, this will define your presidency much more than the hamstrung healthcare reform you are pushing through the legislative branch. Now let us work together to get the problems fixed.
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How far can the US go to screen boarding plane passengers in foreign countries? What do we do; set up mini-embassies with FAA checkpoints at loading gates in other nation's airports? Are we completely dependent on other governments to ensure the safety of passengers bound for American destinations?
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Are the airlines taking on enough (if any) responsibility for safe delivery of passengers from terrorist attempts? Should they accept some of the responsibility for screening all people whom board their planes?
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I have a plan which will work to ensure airline passenger safety. Everyone must be required to remove all their clothing before boarding a plane whether it be an international or domestic flight. This will exclude from flying those unfortunate people with special needs like medications, canes, crutches or anything other than their bare skin. Luggage can be handled separately by having a special once-a-day flight to carry only baggage. It can be flown by remote control like our military drones, or at worst with a minimal flight crew. Or maybe they can do like the WW2 gliders and the suitcases can tag along behind the passenger liner in a special plane designed for such. It can be towed along behind on a long cable, and arrive at the destination at the same time as the passengers. It should be fun.
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Heraklion dreaming

I got all the preliminary work done with the spreadsheets, but it will take a bit of time to fine tune them. I long ago made most templates, so the going wasn't too bad. I'll have to look through the new laws and regulations and when Uncle Sam sends the new income tax withholding tables and the state sends the new unemployment insurance rates, I will be good for awhile. I've already downloaded the early Tax Act income tax preparation program, and sometime in the first week of January the final version will be released. Dread and despair.
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Today will be the beginning of doing year and quarterly taxes, a daunting task for an elderly cripple. I've never spent a winter in a place of warm weather, but it seems logical I should do so and the weather forecast is saying rain, snow, and very cold for the next week at least. The weather in Crete looks to be much better than what we have here and I've always wanted to visit there. I suppose I will just have to look at photos of warm places on Flickr and daydream. Sigh ...
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Britney Spears has a new line of scents on the market; I just wonder what they smell like. I've been using Liz Taylor's Passion cologne and aftershave for years, but I am now completely sick of it. I may as well use my pennies to prop up another beautiful loser.
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Her rear-end

The last week of December and the first week in January are always busy for me. This week I will prepare new spreadsheets for next year, and next week I start bringing together this year's records. I procrastinate until April 1st and then sweat over tax forms. Today was spent mostly running errands, the main one was changing workman's comp insurance companies. Seems like these guys are in the business of screwing small businesses. Our first comp. company tried to beat us out of nearly $1,000 over a period of three years. I turned then in to the state insurance commissioner and Carolyn received a check for the full amount. They also canceled her policy. The next one tried to beat us out of $80 - $100 each year and I also turned them in. She finally got a check from them for $48, so we now have canceled that policy on our own. These companies are example of Wall Street at its best.
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Mark left a comment saying Carolyn would probably laugh about the vibrator incident, and maybe she would have if I hadn't sent her to an auto maintenance shop to have one of the vans lubricated and the oil changed. I told her to tell them to be sure to check the rear-end (differential) for the correct amount of grease because it had been making a noise. She went in and told them her rear end was making a noise and for them to be sure to grease it. From what I understand, it was a real LOL! occasion for the workers. Of course I again caught hell.
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Personal gripes

Buckeye

I think I may pull through; I had the worst non-alcohol induced Christmas hangover ever. I don't think I could have shown interest if the universe had collapsed yesterday. I was able to scratch out a little blog and look at some photos on Flickr and the new site, but other than that it was a bummer. All three of my kids were here at the same time on Christmas day, but no fights broke out even though two of them are not speaking to each other. I've never seen so much sibling jealousy when none of them really have reason to be jealous. I really do not like Christmas in the traditional sense. Since most of my close family and friends have passed and two of my children have grown into selfish nincompoops, this virtual world has become the place I live and you have become my friends and family. Hold me.
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Carolyn is off to Elizabethton to clean the building; I am staying home. She hasn't had monetary increases from most of her accounts since the economy began souring four years ago, and they have all told her not to try to raise them if she wants to keep them. She has begun to cut-back on what she does in the buildings, and is now beginning to receive complaints. Her after-tax income is down more than 50 percent since 2005, and all her insurance rates will increase at a record of about 30 percent each in 2010. She is required to carry liability insurance, commercial automobile insurance, and workman's compensation insurance, plus bonds for herself and employees. Her employees have had only two small raises during the period. Unemployment taxes increased from one percent to five percent in 2009, and will probably go higher next year. Getting her to retire is out of the question because she has to support another family member whom is able but unwilling to support himself.
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I wonder what kind of knee jerk reactions our protective government will have over the latest terrorist attempt? Whatever it is, it will be designed to protect their jobs first and our lives second. The Reagan/Bush legacy will live until we decide to kill it.
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I'll try to do a better blog tomorrow.
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Post holiday blews

Skipper on zinnia

I hope each of you had a superbly wonderful Christmas with enough food and love for you and everyone dear to you. I also hope you received meaningful gifts, either of a material or spiritual nature.
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I may take a few days off (but probably not) while I figure out what kind of tall tales and outright lies I can spring on you in the coming year. I consider all of you as part of my family, and you deserve my best excuses and rationalizations. Well, there is always politics to fall back on in slack creative times. I don't do religion as much as I used to although I still enjoy thinking about it. Unlike politics, I can pick apart religion without becoming mad at the institution whereas our public servant's exploits send me into a feeding frenzy.
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Good luck to friend Alice as she enters into the world of capitalism; she is apparently becoming an entrepreneur in the world of candy making. I can say one thing in her favor; candy sells even in the worst economies, and if she is good at making candy (I'd bet my bloomers that she is very good), and if she does some shrewd marketing and selling on the net, she will be most successful. She isn't a quitter. Again, best of luck if and when you decide to give it a try, Alice.
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I have several butterfly photos from 2008 which I haven't posted anywhere, so I will put a few of them on the blog along with other pics of various things.
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Carps and Colts

Gulf Fritillary on Zinnia


Last night as I lay awake with a vile sinus headache, I thought about some of the other things I've done in my life to cause me to suffer such discomfort. Besides nasal congestion, I suppose being hit on the head has given me the greatest discomfort. An alcohol hangover rates close to the top, too, especially ones from drinking malt liquor. Thinking of malt liquor sent me down memory's back alley to the nights of fishing from the banks of splendidly polluted Boone Lake. My uncle and I would spend virtually every warm Saturday night along the crud encrusted shores of the lake, fishing not for bass or crappie or other edible fish, but for carp, the much maligned bottom feeders who's flesh tasted like the mud from which it scavenged its meals. The big joke about eating carp is in how it is prepared; go into a pasture field and collect fresh cow paddies, fillet the fish, cover them with cow poop, and place them on baking sheet. They then go into the oven for broiling and when the flesh is tender, remove the delicacies from the heat, throw the fish away, and eat the crispy poop. Never-the-less, they were fun to catch because they were so big. We used whole-kernel corn for bait, and hooking 20 pounders or larger was our goal but most of them weighed around 10-12 pounds. It was all catch and release.

My uncle wasn't known for his drinking. He was a very quiet man whom did a lot of reading and had written a novel length manuscript which was rejected by the first publisher he sent it to; he never again attempted to have it read by a professional. He also wrote simple poetry which was thought provoking in the angst he managed to deliver, and he was a pretty good self-taught artist. He had been married and raised two boys, but at the time was living alone on a dead-end street in a quiet neighborhood. I suppose I am more like he was than anyone else in my entire family.

On summer Saturday nights, I would go by his house and we would proceed to the beer store and on to the lake side. I don't know what got us to drinking Colt 45 malt liquor, but we became fond of the taste and for an entire season it was all we purchased for our outings, and we bought it in 40 ounce bottles. From dark until well after mid-night, we would fish, philosophize, and swap stories. The last couple of hours I usually slowed my drinking so I would be "sober" enough to drive us home where I usually crashed on his sofa 'til morning when I would awaken with a master headache all over my body. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?
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I will give you my thoughts on men and fishing later on. Size matters.
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The Smoking Gun's Mug Shots of the Year!

Impatience

My wife has zero sense of humor. Back in the dark ages before there was a local Wal-Mart, we did much of our shopping at K-Mart. Once when one of our kids had a bad sprain, I drove Carolyn to the store so she could find a hand-held massage unit for him. She had never used one before and was a little confused as to what to buy, so she asked me what she was supposed to get. I tried to explain just what it was she needed, and she finally said she would ask for "one of those vibrating things". I was becoming impatient and said "Yes, just ask for a vibrator and they will know what you are talking about." She went into K-Mart and in about 15 minutes she returned to where I was parked. I noticed she was not toting a shopping bag, but she did look like she was carrying vengeance in her heart. I also saw that she wasn't going around to the passenger side to get into the truck, but her eye was evil and set directly on me. I had sense enough to lock the door and roll down the window just a bit to be able to talk through it. After trying unsuccessfully to get to me, she calmed enough to put her mouth in high gear. When she is riled, my precious is one of the premier world experts at using four-letter words to get her point across. Seems like she went in and asked a male clerk where they kept their vibrators and he offered to take her to the stockroom and show her. That's when it hit her that she was supposed to be asking for a massaging machine and exactly what it was that she had asked for. All this was blamed on innocent me. It is one of those times that when we are talking about the good old days, I do not mention. I hope she has forgotten it, but I feel that some day and some way I am going to pay for my impatient mistake.
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I am overcome with such an enormous empty feeling on Christmas Day each year. All (most) of the online retailers have stopped their daily cramming my email inbox full of "last minute gift ideas for under $100" ads. I have a special email account set up for this kind of stuff, but some always finds their way to my other addresses where I have most of them diverted directly to the spam folder. Tomorrow I will again catch capitalistic hell.
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Father Christmas in the photo was painted by my friend Steve just before he suffered a stroke and was forced to give up creating his art. He died a few years later.

Peace

Larger view

I still do not have the invitations finished; in fact I have yet to begin making them. Difficult to concentrate on work this time of year; my pagan heart tells me to get up and dance.
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Most of you will be spending time with family and friends for the next few days, so allow me to say that whatever holiday occasions you observe or celebrate, I hope they will be inspiring and more happily meaningful than ever. With the help of each of you, I have weathered a very tough year and I know I am a better person because you are in my life. Thank you . . .
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Young Turks

Sassy red-head

What are you going to do with your extra second of daylight on this beautiful day? Use it wisely, but don't think about it too long 'cause time flies.
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We had some decent fog cover this morning so I got the Pentax and went to the back porch where luckily there were still some icicles hanging from yesterday. The sun was low and directly in my face, giving me a rare opportunity to try some shots like I've been wanting to make for years. I did my thing and went back inside for coffee and to see if I had anything decent. As I was off-loading the pics from the memory card, three wild turkeys came strolling from behind the Escape which is parked up front during this snow event. I was able to retrieve my card, grab the camera and get one shot through the blinds, but it is not properly focused. By the time I got the auto-focus turned off, they had disappeared around the house. JJ got a few decent shots with my point-and-shoot Olympus before the three hens went into a thicket. These are the first wild turkeys I've seen in my yard, but other people say they been here before. I've had the 50mm prime lens on the dslr since the weather went crappy because it will stop to f/1.4 and is good for low-light. The icicle and fog shots were fair at best; this is one of those times a graduated neutral-density filter comes in handy, but I dont have one. Anyway, we now have lovely clear skies and the snow is melting.
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I have to print a batch of invites for a family friend's funeral wedding. She is getting married in mid-January and will have her first baby in August. Maybe the baby will be born on my birthday. Maybe I better find out the exact date of the wedding.
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This evening I will again journey to Fall Branch and Boones Creek with Carolyn to clean banks.
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Have a super Tuesday!

Bird cover in my back yard

Veteran's Monument, Elizabethton Tenn.

Covered Bridge, Elizabethton Tenn.

My Christmas Story

Solstice! Tomorrow will be one second longer than today! Well, ya' gotta' start somewhere. Solstice! I feel so Pagan-like today!
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My Christmas story. On Christmas eve morning in 1989, I went out to fill the bird feeders as usual; there was several inches of snow on the ground and it was very cold and flurrying. As I approached the big feeder, I noticed there was something yellow showing in the snow; it was one of the many pine siskins that usually dined on thistle seed. I figured the little fellow was dead and I picked it up and was going to drop it in a nearby hollow stump, but to my surprise it opened its eyes for a moment. I placed the bird in my coat pocket, finished filling the feeders, and went inside the trailer where we lived. I took the siskin out of my pocket, and it of course pooped in my hand; cold poop. I didn't have any idea that it would recover, but I covered it and placed it near a heat vent and in a little while it was sitting upright. Carolyn got some warm water and I was able to get some into his beak, then we wrapped him in warm towels. After awhile, he was up and moving about; so much so he began following me everywhere I went; I think he had bonded with me. We fed him some warm bread and a few thistle seeds, put him in a small box where I had stuck a small limb for him to perch on, and he went to sleep. When he awoke, he was doing very well, but he either could not or would not fly. Instead, he still followed me all over the house, fluttering his little wings as he ran behind me. It was just me; he would not follow Carolyn.

Later that afternoon, Carolyn and I went to The Cottage Christmas party, but I put a towel over Siskin's box before we left so he would not get into trouble while we were gone. By the time the shindig was over at five o'clock, the temperature had fallen even more and a mean west wind was whipping things around. We left the Cottage and drove to her mom's house so we could take her to my mom's house to open Christmas gifts. On the way, we noticed some flashing red lights near downtown Johnson City, but paid them little attention. When we got to my mom's place, it was all over the news: the John Sevier Center was afire. At one time, it had been the city's premier hotel, but was now retirement apartments for old and disabled people.

Later when Carolyn and I returned home, I looked into the bird-box and Siskin was asleep on his perch with his head under his wing. We watched news coverage of the fire and eventually found that several people had died from smoke and heat.

Next morning when I uncovered Siskin, he un-tucked his head from beneath his wing, chirped once and fell over dead.

The 16 people dying in the fire bothered me a-plenty, but little Siskin's death was the most difficult to deal with. I took him to the hollow stump and buried him deep inside where no other critters could get to him. All through the remaining winter and into spring, I found several more dead siskins on our lot, and our thistle feeders were almost barren of them on up to 1994 when we moved from there. I never found out if it was over population or disease which reduced the numbers so drastically. We do not have any pine trees where we live now so there are few around, but each time I see one, I think of my day with little Siskin.
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Solstice -1

Click and view larger size

The snow is finally (hopefully) moving out and on up north. Mark said his family in New England is expecting about of foot of coverage. Until the early 90's, we had several 5" to 12" snows about every year. The 6" we have from this system is the deepest we've had since a 1998 storm which laid more than an inch per hour on us. We wound up with about 15".
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Looks like Congress is ready to pass the insurance fix. Overall, there will end up being less but more expensive coverage for working Americans. Merry Christmas.
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I am going to attempt to take Carolyn out in the Escape so she can remove trash from a few of her buildings. Friday is usually her biggest income day, so this weather will really hurt when time comes to collect from the accounts.
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Happy Sunday everyone.
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The Smoking Gun's Mug Shots of the Week!
Question: Do any of you look at these mug shots? If not, I will stop putting them on the blog. Vote early and often.
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Merry Christmas, Y'all

Phooey!

Mo' on snow

We made it with no power outage at my house. We did hear and see flashes when some electrical transformers blew. There was some thunder and lightning reported, too. JC was lightly hit, we have about five inches of snow; some area places have more than a foot. My next challenge is getting out and picking Chris up to take her to work in Elizabethton. She can't get her car up the hill where she lives. She probably could but is afraid to try.
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Check out this link: The happiest states are obviously a bunch of pot heads. I've done my part for Tennessee.
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Chris made it to work without my help; she said the roads are terrible. Both I-26 and I-81 were closed for a while. We are still having snow showers.

Storm update

3:42pm--The storm has hit and it looks like it will be a good one. If the power goes off, this may be my last gasp of sanity until it is restored. I will be lost without net! I may have to read a book by candlelight. I went out and got my shot; I wore my Santa Claus hat but no pretty girls offered to sit on my lap and tell me their Christmas wishes. Lousy day.

Adventures in shopperland

From Jan. 2009

Carolyn went to the store the other day and found a parking place pretty close to the entrance, She exited the Escape and proceeded toward the doors, but she noticed her foot felt weird. She thought maybe her sock had been eaten by her shoe, but when she looked down, she saw nothing wrong. She kept walking and noticed some folk were staring at her and her foot was still feeling funny. This time when she looked down, she saw that she had but one shoe on. Turning, she saw the other one sitting way back near the car. One thing she then did I would have done also; go back and retrieve the shoe. She then went back to the store like nothing had happened. That is where I would have probably differed; I would have snuck back home hoping I wasn't seen by anyone whom knew me.
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Carolyn went to Wal-Mart yesterday to get some prescriptions filled and pick up a few things. I previously mentioned I'd like to have a sack of Starbucks decaf coffee to drink on cold evenings. She brought back a bag of Dunkin' Donuts decaf coffee and swore it was what I said I wanted. I looked at her shopping list and it said Starbucks. She was to buy our son a couple cans of Skoal snuff and she brought back Copenhagen; the list said Skoal. The killer though was she bought me a 2010 wall calendar which has nice Impressionist painting prints to go with each month. I love Impressionist art. The trouble is, each page has a devotional verse from Christian beliefs on it. She claimed she didn't see the devotional part, and she said she had her eye glasses on when she picked it. I may have to do another sermon.
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Sometime around 4:00pm yesterday, my Flickr photos received their 30,000th view. I dearly appreciate each and everyone of them. I have 2,404 pics uploaded there. On the new photo site, I have 82 uploads and 434 views. I have eight contacts there. We have but 64 members/testers so far, all selected and invited by the owner. Personally, I think he needs a lot more testers, but he is the man with the fuzzy knuckles whom has to purchase bandwidth, so ...
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Our winter storm watch has turned into a storm warning. THEY are saying we may have up to eight inches of snow. I'll believe it when I see it. The present rain is to become snow by afternoon. I have to go get my shot ... fun, fun, fun.
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O' Death

Detail: Abandoned train station, Chucky
Tenn


Time for a small sermon:
Oral Roberts is dead. He had conversations with God. He caused many poor people to suffer. He was a "hands on" type faith healer. He did not have enough faith to live longer than 91 years. He is dead. I am glad. So be it.
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I just learned Richard Jones died back in November. He was a well known British scientist, artist, and actor. He was R2-D2 in the original Star Wars films. I am not glad he died. I used to know another Richard Jones; he was one of our gang of chili makers. He is not dead; chili is good for you.
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I would not be sad if Joe Lieberman died.
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Obama picked Ben Bernanke to preside over the Federal Reserve for four more years. He will probably be approved by Congress. George Bush picked him for the job to begin with. Bernanke over-saw the collapse of Wall Street and engineered the giveaway of taxpayer money to the big banks ... with no oversight by him or anyone else. This is "real change" that Obama promised. People like Bernanke never die; they are gradually absorbed into the cosmic system.
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Any Joseph-type dream interpreters want to decipher this?: Last night I dreamed that while driving a four-door Dodge car somewhere on the back roads of north Washington County, I stopped and picked up Cale Yarborough and David Pearson to take them to Richard Petty's house. I was alone in the front seat of the car, but both of them chose to sit in the back seat. Cale got in first on the passenger side then slid over so David could climb in beside him. When Cale moved over, the other door suddenly opened and he fell out onto the ground. He was neither angry or laughing when he returned to the car seat. I proceeded to drive on, but became lost on back roads that kept getting narrower and narrower. While trying to find our way back to wherever, I turned the car around in front of a small country store and auto repair shop that seemed to be abandoned, and then I awoke.

For those who do not live in the southern USA, the gentlemen I refer to are retired but still famous race car drivers. Maybe I needed my quarterly bath is the reason they chose to sit in the back seat. Nothing else makes sense to me in this dream. I cannot imagine fiery Cale Yarborough not taking offense at falling out of the car, and I cannot imagine aggressive David Pearson not laughing at him and I cannot imagine there not being a fight if David had laughed.

I had another dream later on, but it is much weirder than this one and I remember only bits of it.

Maybe I need Oral Roberts to lay some hands on me and cure my obviously diseased mind.
"R2 says the chances of survival are 725... to one."
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Carolina Blue

Photo made atop Roan Mt, NC

Carolyn is at hairdresser. Her last surviving uncle's wife phoned her yesterday. Uncle Haskel is going into advanced stages of Alzheimer's Disease and is not expected to live much longer. He is 91 and had a very good life until about a year ago. His wife Pauline is 93 but if you met her you would think she is no more than 70. Carolyn spoke with Uncle Haskel just over a month ago, and he didn't know who she was. Sad; sad; sad ...
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Our government has wasted nearly a year preparing and disassembling a health insurance overhaul. The paltry thing that is left and will probably be passed is just what we do not need, but the Obama administration is pushing and touting it as if it is the glorious second coming of Christ. Just another day of bought-and-paid-for politics, American style. If you are interested in what is going down, read Robert Reich's Blog.
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Carolyn's veggie soup was great; if any is left tomorrow, it will become part of a rainbow stew. I have a story about rainbow stew, a Cotton, and a Fly which I will tell in a future blog.
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Congratulations to our friend and fellow photographer and blogger, Mark. He was laid-off from work about a month ago, but now will be moving from Tampa, Florida to balmy Greensboro, North Carolina where he has found a better job than what he had. I have but one piece of advice for him: Bring a heavy coat! He is originally from Connecticut and it shouldn't take him more than 20 years to become re-accustomed to the mild climate of the Appalachian foothills and Piedmont. Good luck, my friend.
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Five days 'til Solstice!
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S -6 : C -10

Have you ever run across a tv show called Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader? I damn sure didn't linger to watch and I ain't going to. Some things I just do not need to know in order to lower my self esteem.
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Of all the posts I've made on this blog over the past nearly four years, the one I titled Exhibitionist has had many more google hits than any other. Hardly a day goes by that it isn't viewed. There must be some freaky people out and about in net-land.
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Ever notice how an author's first book usually has the title in much larger print than his name? If the book does well, I can about guarantee his next one published will have his name larger than the title. By the time his third tome is on the shelves, you will be lucky to find the title. The publisher has bestowed godhood upon the writer in order to sell more copies through name recognition instead of quality of work. The book industry is happy and the author is happy, but I think it sucks. I will not buy a fiction book with the writer's name in larger letters than the title but if I ever become a famous fiction author, it will be okay if my name is larger than the title and I hope all of you buy copies for yourself and for family and friends.
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I am very happy my parents didn't own a video camera when I was growing up. This kid has his act together.
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The weather here is seasonably lousy; cloudy, cool, and damp. I wonder if the Cindy Lou Who counting the days 'til Christmas? Yummy; Roast Beast!
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Six days 'til Solstice!
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I am having a raw tater for brunch. Veggie soup is on the menue for supper.
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Apologizing doesn't always mean you are wrong and the other person is right; it just means you value your relationship more than your ego.
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Making chili

More reminiscing. In the early 1980's, some of the group of fools that loafed around the local watering hole were talking about the best chili we had eaten. I remember it was summertime hot, and the beers were going down fast. A few of us decided to make some chili, and we began by drinking more beer before adjourning to one of my bud's homes to get things underway. Yep; we were stupid and driving under the influence. Anyway, we began gathering the stuff we thought we needed, and some of the wives helped out. We used a recipe from another friend whom had moved away, and its main forte was simmering the chili for 24 hours. We did this several times over the next year or so, finally perfecting our technique. The very best we chili we made was begun on a Thursday afternoon and was ready to eat on Saturday evening. We put the main ingredients together in a huge stock pot. They were mostly various hot peppers (chili, jalapeno, cayenne, banana, etc.) and red and green bell peppers, hot sauce (Texas Pete, Tennessee Sunshine, Tabasco, etc.), dark bock beer, Jack Daniels, lots of onions, and hamburger meat. A few other non-essentials were added as we went along. It was simmered until noon on Friday, and then cooled to room temp, sealed and placed in the fridge. The only reason we put it in the fridge was the ladies insisted we not leave it out and get us all food poisoned although I really don't think a germ could have lived long enough in it to cause problems. The next day we reheated the mess and added many pieces of charcoal cooked steak from the barbecue. We allowed it to steep for an hour or so, again heated it and it was ready to eat by suppertime Saturday. It was hot and great and we continued the chili tradition for a few years. The secret to it being so good was the 24 hours we left it alone to cool, allowing it to gather its forces; man that stuff got hot and flavorful. Another ingredient we used after the first event was kidney beans, and lots of them. They weren't really appreciated until we had to go to the bathroom from which we didn't stray very far. Even though we were loose enough to spray through a screen door, we appreciated even more gas pressure to quickly clear the orifice. Our chili was hotter coming out than when going in. I wish I'd known what a bidet was back then, but a water hose behind the house worked pretty good. After a long chili weekend, we swore off that particular delicacy for awhile, but always returned to do it again and again until our little group finally drifted apart in the late 80's. I would not attempt to eat food that hot these days.

Nothing like cold weather to cause a person think about hot food.
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Bah! Humbug!

Wisdom is that intangible understanding which comes naturally to the old, is admired by the young, and appreciated by no one.
~ kwa
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We now have a Christmas tree! It is our first in many years and hopefully it will last as long as we do. It is a small, plastic, pre-lighted tree and seems somewhat Charlie Brown-ish, which adds to its charm. It stands in front of the office window somewhat blocking my view of girl's house across the street. Folks, I've never seen a child's eyes light up the way Carolyn's did from the time she removed the tree from the box and got it up with the lights shinning. She got up this morning and began putting our meager decorations out for people to see; a couple of Santa throw pillows, a music playing Coca-Cola bear, a few figurines which were hand painted by my friend Steve whom passed away a few years back, and a few other whatnots.
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Maggie's Day

Happy Birthday, Maggie! Have fun on your birthday safari.
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It is just too darn cold to go out for photo-making. I still want to get some night shots in Jonesborough before Christmas, but I ain't going to freeze my cajones to do it.
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I just learned that beginning tomorrow the new photo site will have the storefronts ready for us testers. I don't have any photos worth selling, so I will have to wait and see what everyone else is doing before I have a Grand Opening. I know the artists will be marketing photos and photoshopped work, but some of us are snap-shooters just like on Flickr and probably could not give our stuff away even if there was a toilet paper shortage. If you are wondering about transferring photos from Flickr to the new place, it is a "no, you cannot", at least not right away. For one thing, Flickr has rules about how you share YOUR photos from your account to anywhere else. Read the fine print. Anyway, when the site goes public, I believe there will be a free trial period for prospective new members; won't hurt to give it a look-see.
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The Smoking Gun's Mug Shots of the Week!
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Solstice musing

I may have posted this last winter ...

Fridays would be great if I didn't have to get a shot. It's been only the past year that I've come to very much dread the short trip to the doc's office. The shot itself is no bother as the nurses are very good (and pretty). The doctor is talking of retiring, but she has not set a date; I dislike going to new doctors. I've been seeing her for 16 years and getting the shots nearly every week for 10 years; she is probably as tired of me as I am of going to get the shots.
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Why is Christmas celebrated on December 25th? When the Roman Julian Calendar was established, it was the date of Winter Solstice. Traditionally, when Jesus was born the Julian Calendar was in effect over all the Roman Empire which included Judea and most of the Western "civilized" world. I suppose it is coincidence that one of the oldest Pagan celebrations was chosen as the birth date of the Son of God.

Nohow, I greatly anticipate and do celebrate to a small extent the true Winter Equinox, which will be in 10 more days: December 21. Christmas will be just another day; last year I drove around the countryside making photos on the holiday; no special meals, get-togethers, presents, or anything of importance is planned for this year. However, I do celebrate the joy and peace which the Christmas season brings to friends and family whom observe the rites and rituals. It is a happy time in most ways.
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Congress has gutted the Healthcare bill and is now cutting back on proposed penalties for Wall Street corporations that raped American investors. Well done Congress; well done Mr. President; well done voters whom put "need for real change" into high office. Same old same old.
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Sometime try multiplying 111,111,111 x 111,111,111.
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The Old Man

At edge of night, the big moon casts his golden brilliance across the resting lands beneath the eastern sky. As ancient as time itself, he quietly ascends steps of jewel-like stars, slowly changing his aura to a radiance of silver as he seeks the zenith in that mysterious canopy of darkness. Halting to rest for a few moments, he gazes upon the multitudes so far below, people who have known his magic. The old orb nods his head and wisely smiles, for he owns the secret of lover's hearts. In a far away place, couples hold hands as they stroll through his fleeting shadows. On the River Seine, his reflection causes amorous souls to gasp in delight and hold each other more the closer. On a far away isle, his sheen sparkles and dances across a vast sea of rippling wavelets as they taunt a sandy shore. The old man of the sky sighs as he begins his descent into the soft mist of the western heavens and has disappeared before mother sun lights up the east, his lust for love and life sated for one more cycle.
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