Score!

Toddled the 0.3 miles out to the mailbox today, and:



The Boss's Rachel Lucas 'Saddest Bee' mug arrived!

His birthday's not until May, but we're going to be on a bunch of airplanes in May, so we figured he might as well enjoy the mug now -- you know, just in case.

New Post

IT RAINED! Time for a little 'credit where credit is due'! (updated with jpeg-y goodness!)

So it rained -- about an inch over the course of a couple of days -- a beautiful, soft, soaking rain.
And I picked up the camera.
And I went for a walk.

"Thou visitest the earth, and waterest it:
thou greatly enrichest it with the
river of God, which is full of water:

thou preparest them corn,
when thou hast so provided for it.

Thou waterest the ridges thereof abundantly:
thou settlest the furrows thereof:

thou makest it soft with showers:
thou blessest the springing thereof.




Thou crownest the year with thy goodness;
and thy paths drop fatness.




They drop upon the pastures of the wilderness:
and the little hills rejoice on every side.

The pastures are clothed with flocks;
the valleys also are covered over with corn;
they shout for joy, they also sing."

Psalm 65, verses 9-13, KJV


Update!!!!: Ya think sometimes there can be too much of a good thing? You know, like . . . . quails, or . . . .

Sumthin'?

Waterfront property.

Deep and wide!

This is usually a path.

Path?

But afterward, there was a rainbow; and everybody ran to see . . . .



And then there was that 'just scrubbed' feeling -- as if the whole world had been remade . . . .

Bath time over -- time to get tucked in!

Rain, rain, rain, rain -- Beautiful rain!

It started the night before last(which is why there won't be any pics from the sheepdog trial -- DOH!)! So, this evening, when I've done enough chores to justify my day's consumption of oxygen, I will do a 'very special' rain post -- you can't wait!

Same mindset -- just a different scale (or why -- as much as I admire her -- I must oppose Condi Rice for veep!)

Over the weekend, on Rachel Lucas's blog, there was a fairly heated comment thread regarding self-defense and reasons for concealed carry vs pacifism.* Today, at The Corner -- so far here, here, and here -- there's a discussion of Israel, Palestine and Hamas (prompted by Jimmah Cahtah's asstastically self-aggrandizing visit) that just begs the drawing of a parallel, don't it?

In both cases, you have people on the pacifist/appeaser side assuming one thing that renders all the rest of their arguments specious -- that the aggressor is rational!

Their argument is, "If you just give the mugger your wallet, or the terrorist your land, he will go away and leave you in peace." Yet this not only begs the question of rationality on the part of someone who has just behaved irrationally, it also defies basic principles of behavior science -- i.e. whatever is rewarded will be repeated!

Excuse me, but DUH? Have none of these people ever dealt with a child, or even a puppy?

Muggers who get wallets from unresisting victims will go out and mug again; and terrorists who are rewarded with land will continue to terrorize until they get all the land -- especially if that goal happens, as in the case of Hamas, to be in their flaming charter!

What kind of drugs do you have to be on to believe that appeasement will ever work?

Yet some people, somehow, claim to see 'progress.'

Secretary Rice has said:

"Well, you can look at any opinion poll in the Palestinian territories and 70 percent of the people will say they're perfectly ready to live side by side with Israel because they just want to live in peace"

Now, even if were 70% (instead of a more realistic 50 - 60% H/T Andy McCarthy) can you really believe that 70% represents a tipping point? Would you happily live in a neighborhood, or even walk into a room, where 30% of the people present had a history of violence and wanted you dead???

Which brings me to the sad hope that Condi never runs for either President or Vice President -- alas!

*Of course, now I've exposed my penchant for digression in comment threads -- heh! My comments were relevant to the discussion at the beginning of the section, re Va Tech, concealed carry laws, and 0n-campus concealed carry. Just got in there kinda late because the other posters started a rapid-fire exchange while I was pecking away here. That hot-and-heavy traffic actually caused a huge lag in posting -- hence my re-post, DOH! I'm such a noob :).

Photoblogging - refuge of the tired

A couple of nights ago -- 'Red sky at night, Shepherd's delight' (except during prolonged periods of drought -- then? not so much!) But it's still pretty. And tonight -- shhhhhhhh! Not too loud! -- it's raining!



The one good thing about dry air is the LIGHT!

Tired blogging (Now Digitally Enhanced!)

Barely qualifies as blogging. i fn ne nrg!

Up late (early?) with The Boss again last night (this morning!), but . . . drum roll . . . HE FINISHED DEALING WITH EVIL PROGRAMMER FROM HELL!!!! (insert 'Hallelujah Chorus' here, plz k thx!)

At last, we can start keeping less bat-like hours around here.

Late night didn't save me from early rising, though -- well, early for a Saturday :). A Border Collie buddy is hosting a trial this weekend, and Ozzie, Willie, and I are heppin'! Nothing fancy -- we're not up to anything really clever right now (though I saw our trainer today -- we're going to start working hard again, yaaay!) -- just pulling a group of sheep out of their holding pen and pushing them up the field to the handler and dog at the top for each run. They hold the sheep at the far end of the field where the competitor's dog picks them up. It's just a Novice trial, too, so a pretty short field ( 100 yds?). We tuck each group of sheep back into their pen after their run, but these sheep are so trained, they pretty much pen themselves! After a while, though, the sheep get tired of the game and take more and more effort to push. (tomorrow -- camera!)

A few hours of that on this warm day, and even the doggies needed a nap!

Having been 'abandoned' all morning, Bruce decided he needed 'Mommy time,' too, so he napped on my shoulder while I snoozed -- until I felt him wake up and go stumping off, 'tum-tee-tum-tee-tum' -- heading on down towards my feet. Time to go back to your own space, Budge-man! (Yeah, yeah -- he's a 'Tiel. We just call him 'Budge' to tease him, because, supposedly, 'budgerigar' means 'pretty good eating' in Aborigine -- heh.)

Time to decompress:

'Stoopid Hoomin, iz not Basset Ball, iz Collie Ball!'

How come naps give energy to everyone but me?

'Hold on -- iz not sharp yet! . . . nomnomnom . . .'

Update: Couldn't resist -- had to submit!
Uppidy-update: Him too!

Bless me . . . too late!

So I was going around feeling all cranky and lonely and sorry for myself yesterday -- it gets pretty isolated out here sometimes, in the middle of 63 acres in the middle of nowhere! It's been especially bad the last couple of weeks, because The Boss has been swotting away at QC-ing a program written by the programmer from Hell -- but that's a whole 'nother post!

We homestead because we want to be here, and the animals are a treasured and integral part of the 'stead, but they do tie one down -- add to that the brutal schedule TB's been on and, well, let's just say we don't get out much!

Anyhoo, there I was, coming in from feeding hay to things (one of my chief occupations!), enjoying a perfectly good pout, and I open the door to? A house filled, filled I tell you, with harp music --
Mrs. Dundas of Arniston, to be precise, being played by Homeschool girl (and she plays it waaay better than the guy on the mp3 -- really, she does!) -- sigh! The thing about the harp is, it always sounds great. It's not like having your kid take up clarinet (done that!) or fiddle (been there!) or trumpet (Oh GOD, no!). You don't have to endure the 'feeding time at the zoo' soundtrack stage. No. It's all good -- an ethereal/elven hall/wrong century kind of goodness that just transports, well, me anyway.

So, whatever the opposite of 'Harshing my mellow' is? That's what she did. Mellowed my damn harsh -- buggah!

There was a debate?

So The Boss comes in from lifting weights up at his manly-man workshop -- has to maintain his mens sana in corpore sano, doncha know -- and says, "I was listening to the debate and . . . "

me: "What debate?"
Himself: "You know, the Presidential debate."
me: "No I didn't know -- who was debating whom?"

Yeah, I'm that politically astute! But really, for a second there, given the landscape, I couldn't imagine the point of a one-party debate (so glad I was soooo wrong -- heehaw!). He looked at me incredulously:

Himself: "Clinton vs Obama? You thought maybe McCain was debating himself?"
me: "Doh! But you know . . . actually, that wouldn't be a bad idea. You know, pit 'Conservative McCain' against 'Liberal McCain' . . . I wouldn't mind seeing that!"
Himself: "Ha! True. They could have two podiums and have him run back and forth across the stage . . . Heh!"

I've been thinking more about that -- love it! Can't you see it? Like the Pixar chess game that the old man plays against himself. McCain's been on the liberal side of so many Senate debates; yet now, of course, he says he's all Reagan, all the time!

Ooh, ooh! -- given the Pixar-chess-game-as-model scenario -- McCain could even address the issue of his age and possible health issues in office by staging a heart attack, just like the little old chess guy . . . ummm, or not.

Anyhow, he's going to have to do something along those lines -- granted it'll probably be in interview format. Darn!

Update: Okay, NOW I'm really sorry I missed it -- Priceless! (H/T Instapundit)

The Tech Massacre Anniversary

So today was the big day -- classes canceled, moments of silence, idiots at other schools staging 'die-ins.'

John and I are both Tech alums -- three degrees between us -- and that is where we courted, though we actually first met commuting to our Coop jobs at Patuxent Wildlife Research center (which is why I get to tell our girls, "Oh, Yeah! Your Daddy and I met in the backseat of a car!" Ahem! -- In '79. Married Dec. '81. Oldest child born in '87. One miscarriage, in '86. NO abortions. k thx bai!).

We had our own way of commemorating the event (something we've been meaning to do for decades -- procrastination, we has it!):

Thank you for supporting the National Rifle Association and the Second Amendment.

You should be receiving your membership credentials package in 2-4 weeks.

If you have any questions about your application, please feel free to email us at membership@nrahq.org

Click here to return to the NRAHQ Home Page.

Step one in pursuing those concealed carry permits -- check! Of course, we still need to acquire something that can actually be concealed -- the heirloom 1918 1917 Colt 45 is a little, ahhhh, bulky? OTOH, here in Virginny, we do have 'Open Carry' -- w00t! Anyhow, so there!

I am, however, going to have to ask my dear old friend Christopher, who used to teach at Miami (tickled his father no end to be able to say his son was teaching "at Oxford" -- heh!), whether this sort of thing would have happened when he was there -- ugh:

Student project, "Jungle Red," remembers victims of shooting at Virginia Tech

In remembrance of the April 16, 2007, fatal shooting of 32 people at Virginia Tech, a group of Miami University students encourage men on campus to join them in "Operation Jungle Red: Embrace Your Inner Strength" - an open display of letting go "of gender-stereotyped behavior - namely male dominated acts of violence," by painting one or all fingernails red April 14-16.

Students in kinesiology and health 385, "Contemporary Issues in Men's Health," and KNH 462, "Program Planning and Evaluation," wanted to do more to remember the victims of Virginia Tech by sending a message of "never again." Reginald Fennell, professor of health education, challenged students to create a program addressing an issue associated with men's health. He planted the seed for a "Jungle Red" activity and the students expanded it to a campuswide event.

Students hope to encourage 1,600 university men (50 men for each victim of the shooting at Virginia Tech) to wear "Jungle Red" nail polish. "We have chosen red nail polish because it clearly stands out and makes a statement," said senior Erica Keeney, co-chair and health promotion major.

"By stepping out of their rigid gender roles and wearing nail polish, we hope men will also make an effort to distance themselves from the stereotype of violence," added co-chair Tyler Topel, a sophomore exercise science major.

“We hope that with the success of this memorial event, the excitement seen on Miami's campus will spread to other college campuses across the nation, encouraging men to speak out against violence."

Students have submitted "Operation Jungle Red" to be considered for inclusion in the Guinness Book of World Records.

The Miami community is invited to join in one or more of the following activities:

•Get fingernails painted on just one hand or one finger at these locations: the hub, Martin Dining Hall, Haines Food Court, Miami recreational center lobby and Phillip’s Hall lobby;

•Donate fingernail polish at the front desk of the department of kinesiology and health, 106 Phillip Hall;

•Contribute time to paint nails, 10 a.m.-4 p.m. Monday, April 14, and Tuesday, April 15, and 9 a.m.-6 p.m. Wednesday, April 16.

"Embrace Your Inner Strength" my ever lovin' ass! They're not trying to get men to be strong, they're trying to weaken them by instilling corporate guilt!

"We have chosen red nail polish because it clearly stands out and makes a statement," uh huh! Sure it does. We know what you're up to, you want to make them all feel like they have blood on their hands!

I really hope it was a total flop and that the men there have too much self respect to fall for this crap -- God, I hope so!

Dusting off a post from my old blog . . .

Because I caught a few seconds of Jamie DuPree giving Neal Boortz some flack today. Paraphrasing here, but the remark was something like "and yet, Neal, if he was supporting the Fair Tax, you'd be saying he's the smartest guy in the world!" Ha! Go, Jamie, Go -- jab him again, for me, pleeeze!

Here's my old whine:

Not dead . . . . yet

Though I still like to wear my "Better Fred than Dead" shirt from time to time -- sigh!

I get so tired of the meme that there wasn't a candidate in this election cycle that represented a return to Federalist, Constitutional constructionist values -- feh! There just weren't enough people willing to be patient, let him get his s**t together, and get behind him! They all flocked to the first self-proclaimed conservative that looked electable, then scurried to the next and the next as each one failed. Of course, it didn't help that the Fair-Tax gang went and anointed that dweebus from Arkansas. Up until the Iowa straw poll, no one had even heard of that jackass -- would have and should have stayed that way! Of course, now that the squirrel-eating dweeb is more-or-less gone, having supplied an abundance of embarrassment on his way out, I finally heard his water-carrier-in-chief, Neal Boortz, say that the only way the Fair-Tax plan will ever gain support is from the ground up -- DUH!!!! This after months and months of saying that what it really needed was a champion -- aaaaaaaargh!

Snivel.

So now we're left with the prospect of gang-of-14 McCain and a Democrat congress.

Time for some more chocolate. And a garden plan.

The Root Cause of Liberalism . . .

. . . is developmental delay. I've had this theory -- based on what I remember from Developmental Psych and Psych of Learning, along with empirical data from raising and observing kids, added to what I see going on in the world -- that liberals live in a state of arrested, or at best, severely delayed emotional and social development.

Of course -- Surprise, surprise, Ecclesiastes! -- this is hardly original.

My theory, though, is that, while for some it probably does arise from stupidity, ignorance, or even willful ignorance, for others, their liberal mindset may actually be a genetic defect. Their ability to think rationally and objectively, while functioning perfectly well in other areas, e.g. math or science, is simply overshadowed by their emotional response to social and political stimuli. You've met these people, I'm sure. They've heard all the information you have, are totally up on the issues of the day, yet come down on the liberal side of policy. They're the ones that leave you scratching your head and wondering how such a smart person can live with what should be an overload of cognitive dissonance. Easy -- if they're genetically tone deaf to the dissonance!

(Their leadership, mind you are a different story. I think some of them actually know better, but are just plain evil and manipulative, using liberalism as a tool for gaining power through the support of what I have affectionately dubbed the 'Coalition of the Stupid,' a.k.a. 'the undecideds' -- the ones who'll pick their candidate sometime in early November. You've met some of these people, too, no doubt? Perhaps in the checkout line at a convenience store, or -- worse -- in line at the voting booth? *shudder*)

But whatever the cause, some libs do eventually grow up. The latest proof comes from none other than?

George McGovern!

On the disturbing side, this puts the current crop of Democrat candidates to the Left of McGovern -- not good! On the bright side, it shows that even a liberal icon -- one so extreme as to have become synonymous with the ideology -- can eventually outgrow it!

Virginia Lights

This was taken back in '03 -- Cheeze Louise! Look at the grass we had before the drought!

Damn . . . Damn, Damn,DAMN!

And not a thing to be done about it. So much for my poor Redbud -- another year without setting pods. I should be feeling sorry for the folks I know that grow peaches -- and I am -- but right now I'm really sad about the fact that my sweet, sweet flowers will all be turned to mush by morning. Crap.

Okay, it may be time to clip his wings . . .

So, I let the teakettle whistle for just a hair too long, and . . .


. . . oops! Seems the shrill frequencies emitted by the kettle mimic exactly those of a huge flock of panicked Cockatiels all sounding the alarm -- alerting each other, along with all hearing inhabitants of the Australian Continent, to the presence of . . . well . . . God knows what, but it's BAAAAAAAD! The obligatory response is, naturally, to join the chorus.

And of course, getting all excited and flying around like a flaming nutjob is terribly stimulating,
so . . .


But I couldn't get really mad, because, as you see, he managed to poop on the one plastic-covered object on the shelf -- easy cleanup -- good birdie!

Update: BTW, his name is Bruce -- avoids confusion.

Narcissism -- what a gift!

(Anyone else -- begging the question whether there's anyone here but me, heh -- see the irony here? Most blogs, MySpace pages, Facebook pages, etc. have to have some element of narcissism at work in order to exist. I flatter myself that I don't care whether mine is ever read by anyone else, but of course it would be much more flattering if it turned out someone had actually enjoyed even one of my self-absorbed little posts!)

Where to start? Well, the need to vent started when I heard about first this , then this -- both of which were videoed by the little creeps! They wanted their fifteen minutes of fame, and they didn't care how they got it. "Me, me! Look at me! Not looking? Let me do something appallingly brutal -- now are you looking? No such thing as bad publicity!" Where is this coming from? How did we get to this point? Of course, the desire for attention is nothing new -- that's as old as the human race -- but this willingness to do anything at all, even commit despicable acts of violence in order to get it, isn't that new?

Somehow, we have slipped from "Character is doing the right thing when nobody's looking" -- J.C. Watts -- to something more like "Doing the wrong thing while everybody is looking makes you a character!" I'm all set to start serving up blame, so, apart from the kids themselves, who are ultimately responsible for their own evil choices -- or darn well ought to be! -- how about stupid, lazy parenting, liberal doctrines in the education system, a media-driven culture, and a recent flood of easily accessible, new technologies and media outlets? Works for me!

Compulsory free public education -- a plank of the Communist Manifesto, no less -- has served to allow a lazy parent to cede the raising of a child to the school. Yet who actually ends up raising the kids there? Simple answer: they raise each other. The minute they're unsupervised, which is frequently, it's Lord of the Flies! And when little Johnny or Susie misbehaves, how often do we hear the parents defending their evil little spawn and blaming the schools?

So the kiddies, when they are being supervised, are being fed a load of hogwash. Along with a lack self discipline and proper respect for others (not to be confused with the phony, condescending pseudo-respect of multi-culturalism -- let's not even go there!), there's a gross over-emphasis amongst both parents and educators on 'self-esteem' as opposed to genuine self respect. How helpful is it to a child to build up his or her ego? And what else, pray tell, is 'self-esteem'? I'm not saying you have to grind the little boogers into the dirt (well, not constantly, anyway :) ), but in order to function in society, they can't go around believing that they should be rewarded just for existing and that they are owed respect without having to earn it. That certainly won't serve them in the workaday world!

So what do these under-supervised little egomaniacs do in their spare time? Watch TV? Ya think? And what do they learn from the flickering blue parent? Morals, values? Or maybe that Britney gets lots of attention by being a very bad girl? And attention is what it's all about -- everybody wants to be your next American Idol! Or, failing that, how about the next subject of a Michael Moore 'documentary' -- fame and immortality! Too lofty a goal? Okay, then, how about just notoriety on Youtube, Facebook, or MySpace? Kewl!

And it's just so easy now, because all these pampered little shites have way fancier cell phones than they could possibly have earned (built-in video and online access -- einh?), not to mention their own laptops in their rooms where their parents can't see what they're getting up to.

Thus their kindly elders have given them: the motive (ego, once fed, is ever hungry), the opportunity (Mommy and Daddy are too busy working, paying for all the fancy toys their brats 'need', to actually provide guidance and supervision), and the means of achieving fame, any fame, at any price.

Thanks a pantload!

Update (Updata?): I left out one other, very damaging aspect of the self-esteem cultivating practices of liberal educators, one that is fairly new -- no competition allowed! Once upon a time, kids were permitted to expend their excess energy and to work through their pecking order issues on the playground! No More! Not here! And Not Here Either! Tell me that doesn't contribute to the problem of violent behavior in kids? At the risk of incurring the wrath of dog lovers and child advocates alike, what's the first thing Cesar Milan does with an aggressive dog? Physical Exercise! And after that? Mental Exercise! So take the physicality and mental challenge out of school -- because if you don't dumb everything down to the lowest common denominator, someone might get his feelings hurt -- and you create a breeding ground for aggressive little monsters. Oh, yes! And it costs us more every year! God help us all! (Oh, wait, I can't say that in school.)

My backyard -- I shows you it

Ewes in the West paddock. But what I was after was the palette of those trees in the background -- Spring is more than just green. Before the old chlorophyll kicks in, you get a sneak peek at the delicate, young version of pigments that you won't see again until Fall -- pretty!

Green is good too -- Poplars are 'specially good at it!

Okay, I just like this fence line. Something about the way it sweeps up over the little rise maybe? Dunno, But it's also the one I can see out the window by my desk.

They just looked so happy I had to shoot them.

Here in Virginia, at this time of year, it's all about the Redbuds. Everywhere you go, along every road and highway, wherever there are trees, these beauties are in the understory. Some sections of road are lined on both sides to form a Redbud alley. I haven't checked the stats, but I'd be willing to bet the gawking related accident rate really spikes about now. It is truly hard to maintain control of one's vehicle whilst experiencing one Redbud induced orgasm after another.



More proof of my stupidity, but aren't the blossoms cute? Since I was a kid, I've always thought they looked like little kangaroo heads. Come on, work with me here -- see the goofy ears? Okay, yeah, whatever.


Not so pretty, except in a weird, natural historian aesthetic kind of way, but these tent caterpillar nests are another part of Virginia Springtime. The species infests the Chokecherries, of which there are gazillions. When the cherry leaves first come out, a lot of the trees will be stripped bare -- the cyanide in the leaves imparts a defense mechanism to the caterpillars! But then the 'pillars get their fill, and the trees put out a second set of leaves that the 'pillars don't touch, so no harm, no foul, it seems, except for the fugly phase. The tree in the picture is outside our kitchen window -- we let it live, despite its pest-tree status, because this one isn't in a pasture, and it really is a pretty tree most of the time.

Hello again, Blog

Missed you yesterday! I speak to you, blog, because based on the number of comments, I know, you're the only one that's listening -- which is just hunky-dory, because if anyone else were to read this, then someone else would know what a complete bozon I am, and well, yeah, whatever. Besides, the last time someone actually read one of my blogs, I'd said something offhandedly amusing -- to me, at the time -- that turned out to be unpardonably offensive to the reader. So now it's just me and you, blog, and that's the way we like it!

Dictionary reentry

WIC-i-pedia -- Children raised on food stamps.

I'm gonna be paying for your what now?

This just frosts me. TV reception is now an entitlement? Noooooooo! And my resentment is not just because we're a tv-less household, though we have been, by choice, for ten years. Heck, The Ancient and Venerables use a set of glorified rabbit ears on what I'm sure is an old analog tv, so they'll either have to get cable or get a converter, but ON THE PUBLIC DOLLAR?? Since when is the telly so vital that it's my job to make sure my neighbor has it? God help me, this is wrong in so many ways -- let's look at just a couple, shall we?

First: We're not talking about life's essentials here. TV is, at best, a mixed blessing. Sure there's some worthwhile programming, but it's swimming in a sea of crap. Cable is better, hundreds of flavors of crap, but we're not even talking about that -- we're talking local network-affiliate airwaves. And this is now an entitlement. WTF?

Second: Sure. You bought a telly, and now Uncle Sam -- not market forces, not obsolescence, but the almighty gummint -- is going to take away it's functionality; not break it, or take away the equipment, but necessitate the one-time purchase of a techno-fix. Therefore, I will now be forced to pay for the patch? But wait! I have a diesel pickup. I'm sure I need my ability to drive at least as much as you need to watch your telly. A couple of years age, Uncle Sam decreed that all on-road diesel had to be ultra-low sulfur. Now -- for the first time in like, ever? -- diesel actually costs more than gas! If I want to run my F-250 powerstroke, I have to pay more, lots more, and not just once, but every time I fill 'er up! So why don't you have to pay the difference? Wouldn't that be fair?

Well, duh!

Of course it's a matter of personal choice and personal responsibility. Driving my beloved behemoth is a choice; the cost of fueling it is my responsibility. Rotting your gelatinous grey matter with local programming is your choice; and, by Gumby, the cost of keeping the electromagnetic opium supply flowing into your living room, bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, etc. should be your responsibility!

I'd almost forgotten how much this latest entitlement program pissed me off. I'm used to getting plundered for my neighbors' "needs" -- e.g. we homeschool, but pay ever higher property taxes for ever larger and fancier schools; we fence our livestock properly, protecting our watershed from runoff, but subsidize new fencing, ponds, and watering systems for slobs who let their animals wallow in the creeks; we bought super-efficient appliances, solar equipment, etc., when we moved out here to the clearcut ten years ago, but we were way ahead of the curve and missed all the tax breaks! What brought this latest insult back on radar was the spate of fines that are being assessed by the FCC. They claim that Best Buy, Wal-Mart, Circuit City, etc. have continued to sell analog equipment to unsuspecting buyers. The retailers say this is horse hockey, that on the contrary, they've pulled their analog stock and have been actively marketing both converters and digital equipment. I believe them -- regulations and fines aside, it's just a matter of good business sense. But even if they were selling analog sets, this may be horrible of me, but whatever happened to caveat emptor??? Heck, there might even be someone who would just love to pick up a cheap analog, maybe a bigger screen than they'd ever dreamed of owning, then screw me out of $40 for a converter!

Ooops -- or not!

Swapped the shot of the Oz for one of Robert the ram, then realized there was a sort of awkward juxtaposition there -- though he's alive and well, despite those close horns, because he has (and throws to his offspring) a fleece to not die for. But, what the Heck, figure the sheep are entitled to a little editorial commentary, so it stays.
Of course, as soon as I post this, the post about our ovivoracious feasting will get bumped down, so . . . yeah. Whatever.

Sheep -- it's what's for dinner!

Chops tonight -- nomnomnom.

I'm always sad when I have to decide which guys have to go to the butcher. The general idea is to keep and breed what we should (i.e. what's worthy of repeating/will improve the gene pool), sell what we can, and eat what we can't. Pasture is limited, more-so right now, after years of drought, so it really is a sacrifice to save the rest of the flock. Perfectly rational. No problem. So it takes weeks to convince myself that I've made the right choices, and I still end up crying for the ones that go.

And then the tidy boxes of neatly packaged, frozen cuts of mutton and lamb come back to fill the freezer.

I'll still get misty over their baby pictures -- I've never been a willing carnivore (at my first verbal Thanksgiving, I'm told I asked "But what did the turkey do?" -- I went veg at 13!).

But now it's time for chops, roasts, curries, lamburgers -- and, by Gumby, I'll be enjoying every tasty morsel!

New Lease on Blog-life

So I went and let the old blogs slide for and age or two only to discover, when I attempted to renew our relationship, that under the new Google order of things -- everything organized by email address -- my poor old blogs now belonged to my Johnny-come-lately-to-blogging Husband.

WTF?

Couldn't let that stand -- a bit odd, to say the least, for his name and profile to be attached to my posts and vice versa -- so I captured "Sheep etc." and "Musings" into "Scrapbook" and deleted them from his account, thus to begin afresh. I may or may not ever get around to re-posting any of the old material. It is, after all, old. (Of course, that makes it "of age", right? Nah, just old.)
On the bright side, none of my relations know I'm here -- anonymity reset for the time being, though I've learned my lesson well -- there shall be no Mother-in-law humor, no matter how high-minded, pure-souled, and innocent it may seem at the time! Immediate family, however, will be fair game, and as always, that shall include the Ancient and Venerables (my parents)!