Tuesday, June 30, 2020

Homeostatic variability

Everyone -- with a very small but non-zero exception to the rule -- knows that algore was right and our political enemies are perpetrating global warming on us. Temperature is soaring out of control and the ice caps and glaciers are all gone, completely extinct just like the polar bears. It will never snow again. Meteor showers are rampant. We're being murdered by our political enemies who now control the planet and are killing us just cuz, cuz.

Which is a neat trick, because if everybody agrees and we're evenly split as to political enemies, then half of us are wrong.

When you look at actual measurements and other data a very frightening possibility emerges. Since reality doesn't match the global warming narrative -- temps are rising only in doctored computer models, ice caps and glaciers and polar bears (oh my!) still exist, the meteors aren't real, it just keeps snowing...

Maybe we're all wrong.

Occam and reality appear to show overwhelming evidence that the planet's climate is broadly homeostatically variable. That is, climate wobbles back and forth within a normal range, driven by robust feedback mechanisms which are all much more powerful than the collective ape-lizard population. In fact it's fair to say that said population is little more than a skin blemish on the planet.


So atmospheric carbon dioxide is up, as it's always up following a bout of heating. It's a lag indicator. Warming causes carbon dioxide to out-gas from the crust, but it does so gradually and over time. This stuff works according to physical law, not political proclamation. As atmospheric carbon dioxide elevates it has a profound effect on plant biomass. Since every bit of the carbon needed by plants to make cellulose and lignin -- the structural components of leaves and stems and flowers -- comes from atmospheric carbon dioxide, more plants grow and they grow larger, so long as their roots have access to enough water and micronutrients and there is enough sunlight to drive photosynthesis.

These are the conditions we presently enjoy. Conditions are just right for abundant plant growth. Herbivores eat plants and are prey animals. More prey means more predators. More plants and more animals means more food for all living things. Sunlight drives plant growth and the energy stored as hydrocarbon moves up the ever growing pyramid of life. We now live in a golden time.

There are upsides and downsides to living in a golden time. One downside for me is that we now have more thistle to contend with and manage. I mean, seriously, do you think the planet is going to cause growth only in plants approved by a skin blemish? Be serious.

There is a vast difference between the reality of planet Earth and the narrative of the Holy Tee-Vee. It's there for all to see, and it's easy to see once an ape-lizard turns his eyes away from the emperor's absent finery.

It's actually a lot of fun and very satisfying to play the part of the child in HCA's tale, to look at what is and not what everyone insists must be. Being a childlike ape-lizard in this fashion is one of the very best parts of embracing the blessings of liberty. Much better than being childish and demanding that the universe dance to one's tune.

As ever, there are choices.

Be well and embrace the blessings of liberty.

Monday, June 29, 2020

Coming together slowly

It seems like I've got about four or five major efforts ongoing just now. I've got new family stuff, fencing, thistle control, ranch house roof replacement, and medical/nerve pain stuff.

Here's a look at clover blooming on the south side of I-80 where it cuts through the ranch. Bumblebees! Milkweed!

It's all coming together nicely but there never seems to be enough time in the day to make the kind of progress I'd like.

Stock tanks leveled (ish)!

The lack of big progress in any one area is a pain, but it's the price of having many irons in the fire, as they say.

The roof is set to be done today, so that'll be big progress.

Also today I have an appointment for pain management which is supposed to include a nerve conduction test. Then on July 14 an appointment which should resolve (or make progress on resolving) access to neurosurgery.

The family stuff is coming together. As with everything else in the lives of ape-lizards it's a work in progress, but progress is being made.

The major cross fencing job is/has been on hold. Just not enough hours in the day. But that should change once the...

...thistle control progresses a bit more.

Of course daily chores continue as always, and as always, daily chores always reveal one or more items or situations which require a time/effort input to properly resolve (often quite temporarily.

It's true that I often feel I'm spinning my wheels while facing an impossibly long list of tasks. It's a situation which can feel overwhelming if I let it, and sometimes I do. Looked at in scale, context, and perspective, however, it's clear that I'm making very good progress where progress has been lacking for some time.

The situation we face vis-à-vis near- and long-term routine upkeep and maintenance projects is rather interesting and worth touching on.

My Dad was of course the owner of the ranch until his demise. I was the operational manager and my task/responsibility description continually expanded over time. Dad continued to have operational control until he passed, and he was reluctant to delegate  decision making on almost all non-daily tasking, so a lot of things were put on hold for much longer than they should have been. This is a very common thing in family farming and ranching.

Lots of stuff piled up over time and now I'm working away at reducing the pile. It's fair to say that had more upkeep been kept up with ranch operations would be simpler and the to-do lists would not run to so many volumes. But so what? Spending valuable time and effort worrying about what could have been or perhaps should have been will not in any way address what is, so it only makes sense to pass on that kind of speculation and concentrate on doing the job as it exists today, in reality.

Another complicating factor is that when it comes to working with or discussing ranch operations with family members, you just can't fix stupid. I say that in a loving way, but also with a good deal of vexation. The ground truth is that I have years of knowledge and experience seasoned with ongoing learning and formal training. The family members I work with have none of those things, which is fine. However, like almost every other 'merkin on the planet, they know without question and with absolute certainty that if there is anything in the universe they have not fully mastered, it's stuff that's simply not worth knowing. With the Holy Tee-Vee as their guide, they know far, far more about ranching on our particular ranch than I will ever know, and the proof is there for all to see -- I completely reject the teachings of the Holy Tee-Vee.

By Holy Tee-Vee, I mean the zeitgeist of today's simulacrum of America, complete immersion in the sea of media-government information management.

So whenever ranch discussions come up, I nearly always hear word for word repitition of what the Bringers Of Information pronounce on the Holy Tee-Vee. There's no room in that place for reality.

So be it. Crazy people driving themselves crazy, genuflecting in front of the Holy Tee-Vee, knowing in the core of their souls that they cannot be fooled. Emperor's New Clothes? That's just a kid's fairy tale, right? And the Holy Tee-Vee is pronouncing serious, grown-up stuff, right?


In reality we (my family and my fellow Americans and 'merkins) are all dealing with good solid challenges and opportunities to learn and grow. For me in particular I have lots and lots of stuff to keep me out of the death recliner, and that's a very good thing indeed. It'll be interesting to watch and see how many people across the land take the death ride all the way to the end.

As some of us do today when we think of the Good Germans of, oh, 1870 to 1945, history will look back on this time, I fear, and wonder how people could have done what they did.

Sorry about the rant. I didn't intend to do so, but I did.


Be well and embrace the blessings of liberty.

Or not.

Monday, June 22, 2020

In short...

Busy as hell and the going has been hard in a lot of ways.

I'm trying to work with the new blooger interface and it keeps reverting to the old, so if you see a google employee at the riot I'd appreciate it if you'd stomp that motherfiretrucker for me.

Progress on the devil rum front. It's a terribly hard problem and the solution is frightening and involves a lot of work. But it's doable, so there's that. And progress is progress. It's a very good thing.

Be well and embrace the blessings of liberty.

Friday, June 19, 2020

Almost winter

Six months from tomorrow will be the first day of winter. Monday, December 21, 2020. The moment the winter solstice arrives at 3:02 a.m. MST. will be the moment winter begins.

As I write this on June 19 at 7:45 a.m. MDT, winter will arrive in 184 days, 19 hours, and 15 minutes.

On December 21 our planet will have traveled halfway around its orbit and be on the other side of the sun. We'll happily whiz along at an average of 66,600 mph and on the first day of winter we will have chugged nearly 300,000,000 miles on orbit. That's nearly two light seconds! in only half a year! We be smokin'!

But, so, yeah, tomorrow at 3.43 p.m. our time (MDT) summer will begin. The sun will touch it's farthest north apparent point in the sky and begin moving back south immediately. Tomorrow will be the longest day of the year and will also feature the shortest night of the year. Henceforth the days will get shorter and the nights longer.

Until the flip-flop happens On December 21.


On with the show!

Yesterday's job was to seek out, find, and collect data from the Greater Short-Horned Lizard, (Phrynosoma hernandesi). So I was up early and doing ranch work before fun work.

As we were setting off and as I began my search I happened to be shooting some "what a beautiful day" video (plenty more of that to come) when a Horned Lark (Eremophila alpestris) exploded off her nest and did the "chase me I've got a busted wing!" thing. In case you've never heard of this behavior, it's the ground nesting bird's way of trying to lure predators away from their nests and vulnerable young. They flop along the ground and the predator follows. The flopping bird stays just barely out of reach until it decides the threat is far enough away from the nest, when it miraculously recovers from injury and flies away.

Me, I'm a predator. No doubt. I didn't intend to hurt the baby birds, but the mama bird had no way of knowing that, so she did her thing. But I've seen this thing many times before and I learned years ago not to chase the flopping bird. I haven't done that since I was, oh, 55 or 56 I guess. I did want to get some video of the baby larks. The drama unfolds about the 1:00 mark.

We got stuck in and looked for lizards. They weren't very cooperative. Pretty morning though and very enjoyable work.

We kept working and kept getting shut out. Didn't stop being an enjoyable way to spend the morning and provided a great workout.

Wandering up and down the canyon walls on a nice day in late spring is more than a bit magical.

Somebody put a seabed here 150 million years ago. It was below sea level then; today it's at 5,000 feet ASL. Go figure.

By noon we were still shut out. I got a call from a cattle guy and had to decamp for less lizardly work. I was a mile away from the pickup and made it in 13 minutes, gimpy shit and all. Got some American Cliff Swallow (Petrochelidon pyrrhonota) video too.

Brief PSA on drunkenness.

Pretty sound and sight. In my mind anyway...

By the time I'd finished cattle business the Herps were calling it a day. They had caught and gathered data and DNA from seven lizards. While I wasn't there of course!


Last night was a train firetrucking wreck. I had to fight through a lot of pain but finally got to sleep, only to be awakened by the train firetrucking wreck. Well, we'll sleep when we're dead. For some of us death may come at a tragically young age. Which is nothing new. But no less sad for all of that.


Morning and still muzzy from attempted sleep. Beautiful rainy day.

Chuckin' fickens...

Water and the stupidity of smartphone programmers...

Long blathery boolsheet that you should skip...

Butterflies humping in the rain...

Don't be a cricket when the butcher birds are around!

Noisy, mostly crap video. I was trying to sneak up on a Common Nighthawk (Chordeiles minor) sitting on her nest. I did, and she soars at 1:25. I tried to find the eggs but lost my mark and did not find them. The rest of the video is mostly noisy crap.

However, this is what nighthawk eggs in a nighthawk nest look like. At least around here. I found these yesterday about eight miles north of where I shot the video this morning.

Be well and embrace the blessings of liberty.

Wednesday, June 17, 2020

Triumph and disaster

Last evening. Long June sunset shadows. I love June's evening light. I love that I'm alive and sane enough to love June's evening light. Yet another line in my logbook of gratitudes.


If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same...
If, Rudyard Kipling, circa 1895


I'm writing this hours after writing the passage below. Today was a day rife with the appearance of the two impostors. By and large, I treated them just the same. Not perfectly, not exactly. But pretty much the same.

The quality of my day was wonderful. It was a living day. What a blessing!


Here's something I struggle with. So let me describe a bit of the struggle, perhaps with some cogent and useful analysis.
I woke in the night with a lot of nerve pain. Shooting, burning, aching, stabbing, numb, hot, electric, prickly, etc. A real kaleidoscope of yuck.

I knew why. I pushed it too hard yesterday so far as the nerve impingement goes. Specifically, I ran/hiked too hard.

I really struggle with finding the right balance.

On the one hand, "rest" is exactly the wrong thing to do. When I rest and am inactive, in fact when I put in fewer than 10,000 steps (thanks gearfit ii!), I have way more pain and mobility problems than when I'm physically active. In other words, I get all of the pain misery with the bonus gift of feeling like crap physically and not getting anything done. That's a real bummer and the physical and emotional/mental price is too high to pay, at least when there's an alternative.

On the other hand, if I push it too hard I tend to have a lot of pain, and that's no fun. The pain carries a special burden of physical and mental/emotional cargo. So much fear and resentment and selfishness!

And with the pain there's always the siren call of the opiates. Opiates make bearing the pain easier, but there is a huge cost associated with using them. That cost is the thing they do to my mind and soul. They alter my thinking and rearrange my sense of duty. They let the extremely selfish me step forward, and that dude has a very bad and harmful attitude. That dude is ever ready to violate foundational principles in pursuit of egocentric goals. That dude has no use whatever for God. That dude sees other ape-lizards as things to be used rather than full-up equal ape-lizards to be treated according to the dictates of the Golden Rule and Kant's Categorical Imperative. I do not like that dude. That dude is exactly Hitler and Stalin and the rest of the genocidal Lord of the Flies gang. So there are times when I reach for the hydrocodone (generic vicodin I believe). I almost always put it back. When the pain is bad enough, I take one and it helps with the pain. But I know I'm on the bubble for 24 hours or so, and I know that I must work extra hard to stay close to God during that time. The hydrocodone defeats the pain, kinda-sorta, and that's a good thing. But then I must work very hard to keep my mind and heart and soul together. In very many ways it's harder work than just enduring and dealing with the pain.

I'm not talking about addiction, at least not exactly. I've taken exactly four hydrocodone in the last six months. I can understand how and why the stuff is addictive though. When the pain ebbs it's a euphoric feeling. And there's that opiate something that just alters my brain for 24 hours. Alters it in a bad way. In a way that chases me out of the sunlight of the spirit and into a place I don't like and do fear.

I'm afraid I'm not describing my struggle well. That's perhaps not unsurprising considering the fact that I don't understand it very well myself.

In essence, I struggle to find balance in dealing with this pain. I wish there was an always reproducible sweet spot of physical and mental/emotional/spiritual activity which would always yield a perfect or near-perfect outcome. But there isn't. I'm a living, ever changing, mortal being. I exist in a dynamic and kinetic realm where every bit of my life and my place in the world is ever changing. To survive and thrive I must adapt and persevere. I must stick close to God and do my best. I must be willing to suffer and endure, and I must be willing to enjoy and embrace.

It's a struggle. But you have to be alive to struggle. I am alive, and despite my complaining I am utterly in love with my path and my existence. It's hard but it's not too hard, and many of my fellows walk a much harder path yet remain solidly in the sunlight of the spirit. When I truly embrace my existence I walk a path which feels like heaven on earth.


Enough with the struggle already, and on with the show.

Lots of pain in the night and gimping around this morning was pretty crappy. I took NSAID's and acetaminophen and kept on keeping on. Gradually the pain ebbed and I moved better. Not perfectly, but better and with very little pain. This was delightful.

Red and I unintentionally stirred up an interesting and unexpected mini-shitstorm with the cattle.

Treated canada thistle and a brief discussion of plant/ecosystem stuff. My phone cut out unexpectedly due to overheating. I'd placed it on the dash board for 5-10 minutes. The sun is hot!

Long, rambling explanation of my feelings in the moment about larkspur. There are some great images in this video so turn off the sound and enjoy the moving pictures!

Not many things better than reptile hunting with the pros on a brilliant June day!

Those funnel shaped depressions are antlion traps.

Green Racer (Coluber constrictor) showing the milky blue eye of a snake preparing to shed its skin.

Beautiful snake.

Catch and release...

Be well and embrace the blessings of liberty.

Tuesday, June 16, 2020

Rise, shine, smash

When I were a young sailor I could be out of the rack, into uniform, and working in a minute or two. Throw in shaving and brushing teeth and only another minute or two were added. Depending on various factors and my location, of course. On the boat, easy. On the beach, travel added minutes to the endeavour.

This morning I was up, dressed, and out the door in 12 minutes. Including brush, shave, and filled coffee mug.

That's not too bad.



If I understand what appears to be the best science/study of coyotes, they are so closely genetically related to European wolves that they are hardly distinct at all. The current best theory is that they are the descendants of the wolves which stayed behind in North America after the various land bridges became submerged by rising sea levels some 15,000 years ago.

They don't look or behave like European wolves. They are smaller and they don't pack up. They are mostly solitary and mostly live alone. Or perhaps it's more proper to say that their packing behavior is completely different than that of European wolves. Because they are in constant communication with their fellow coyotes. They do come together and occasionally hunt together. When one calls for help others respond. Maybe it's just that their packs are geographically so much larger that we hesitate to call it a pack.

Nevertheless, coyotes appear to be mini-wolves. They don't look much like dogs. They have none of the ape-lizard induced genetic baggage of dogs. They are pure hunter/scavenger. They are very cool.

Because they are cool and because I try to walk a holistic path as best I can, I do not generally predate coyotes. Sometimes, however, If I sense they are pushing a bit hard during calving season, I'll shoot one or two. This generally relieves the pressure immediately as they debark (get it?) for less lethal pastures.

Now in truth the pressure coyotes apply to our ranch during calving is 99.9 percent about scavenging placenta or afterbirth. Which isn't a problem. But very rarely they will take a live calf if it's sick or weak from a difficult birth. So when I sense the conditions are right, pow. Pour encourager les autres.


I was up and out quickly this morning because I had to journey to Cheyenne for x-rays and an MRI. Getting these studies done and in the system seems to be the first step on the way forward to getting my nerve pain actually treated, rather than bandaided.

Because road construction, I first headed west on county road 28. My initial plan was to take the gravel to Bushnell, 12 miles away, and jump on I-80 there. I'd forgotten that 28 dead ends before Bushnell and navigating that route would add 5 miles. When I remembered I jogged north near Oliver Reservoir, took Highway 30 (Lincoln Highway) to Bushnell. Here's a way too long driving/stream of consciousness video...

At Bushnell I jumped on the interstate. It all worked out somehow. En route to Cheyenne I got a call from my friend Dennis Ferraro. Dennis is a University of Nebraska professor and is also the Nebraska State Herpetologist. Which is pretty cool. He comes out to the ranch every year to collect specimens and genetic material, and as it turns out he'll be here tomorrow. So I'll get to spend some time hunting snakes and lizards and learning good stuff from the pros.

I shot another long, silly video as I neared Cheyenne. I'd recommend skipping the whole thing with the exception of the bit beginning about 10:50, just as I was turning off of Highway 30 and onto East Pershing Boulevard. I had to stop as a pair of thirteen lined ground squirrels crossed Pershing (in the crosswalk!) right in front of me. And I got it on video! The guy behind me was pissed and gave me the honking bird but I didn't care. The antics of the ground squirrels was fun and interesting and the honking birder was a wyoturd anyway. He passed me at 11:30 on the video, still acting like a fool. Must be all oppressed and shit. Looking for a riot to join or something.

The x-rays and MRI went well. In x-ray one of the clerks at the check in desk was wearing a black polo shirt with the red Nebraska N logo, so I asked, "Does that N stand for knowledge or are you a Husker fan?" His partner thought that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard this week. It is a pretty good line. I defused the situation with the now-affronted Husker fan by admitting that I too am afflicted with the disease. "Well," he opined, "you can say that. He (pointing at his partner) can't!"

The MRI was the best MRI experience I've ever had. Big, well-lighted tube. I opted for ear plugs rather than music and promptly fell asleep. Like Grandpa used to say, "never stand when you can sit, never sit when you can lay down, and never lay down without going to sleep!"

Post-MRI video...

The clicking sound when I walk is caused by dropfoot on the left side. I can't hold my toes up on the left side due to the neuro deficit; they slap down with every stride. It's quite annoying...

Yet more stream of consciousness driving as I depart the VA...

Back in God's country, canada thistle! Yikes!

I worked on fence for a bit then received a call from a roofer I asked for an estimate. He'd meet me at 3 p.m. It was 2:20 p.m. so I decided to do a quick hike/run. I could easily do a mile and still have time to drive to the home place for the meeting.

Get some!

One thing I discovered, not having run hills in several weeks, is that my left leg is markedly weaker than it was, my proprioception and gait are off, and this nerve thing is getting somewhat worse.

But I sure enjoyed the workout, brief though it was.


Check it out, a green jumping spider.


Good bid from the roofer. Might actually get this thing done!


Big full day, now I tired.

Be well and embrace the blessings of liberty.

Monday, June 15, 2020

Amusing blogsequences

Yesterday was a down day. I actually got quite a bit accomplished on my major cross-fencing project but I didn't work very hard.

When I was checking cows I kicked up a coyote. I tried hard to get some good video but the camera was certain I was filming the barbed wire fence and not the coyote. There was too much wind noise anyway, so I hope you don't feel bad. I got some crap stills though...

Also got a pic of a big ear prickly pear which is strongly considering brightening the landscape with some flowers. These are different than our more common plains prickly pear which is smaller by a good margin.


My mention of a loved one suffering from the effects of active alcoholism prompted an interesting offline comment. There appeared to be some significant concern that I had special secret knowledge about the condition of a family member who has been struggling with the disease, and there appeared to be significant suspicion that I was hiding such vital knowledge.

Actually I was referring to a different loved one, a person who is not a certified member of the family.

The thing about how I approach this blog is that when I'm talking about such things I'm probably not going to dish out all the sordid and delicious details. This isn't the place for that. If I think it's worth sharing details in an effort to teach or help my readers understand I'll do so in such a way as to protect the person I'm writing about. I mention such things here from time to time in an effort to inform and educate as well as in an effort to vent, to let the 50-person world this blog touches know that I am hurting and why.

As it turns out, it wouldn't take someone really smart like algore to be able to do the simple arithmetic and arrive at the obvious answer that I'm the least likely person in the universe to have special secret knowledge of the family member. That person is 300 miles away and hasn't talked to me in years. Every single person in the immediate family is closer to that person than I am. Ergo, the likelihood that I have and am withholding special secret knowledge is absurd on stilts. I do understand that the tee-vee says otherwise; that a person is either a victim or a victimizer, and since I'm not a victim I must be the other thing. Clearly it's expected of the victimizer to do bad stuff like withhold vital information and then whisper darkly about it in a blog. It makes perfect sense according to the dictates of the tee-vee.

The problem with this notion is that in addition to refusing to be a victim, I also refuse to be in the tee-vee. I choose to live in reality, so I don't follow the dictates of the tee-vee. Which rather proves my status as a bold and awful victimizer, at least by tee-vee standards. Catch-22. 

Curiously, it's also a known fact that I'm not really up to actual complete human standards. I'm far too dumb, and I haven't followed the proper path and checked the proper boxes to exist as a real human being.

It's all very confusing. But that's the lot of the simpleton who can't even see the emperor's beautiful new clothes.

The different loved one is very close to me. Her plight is extremely difficult for me to witness, and that's precisely because I would do anything to ease her pain and suffering and put her on the path to recovery. I love her a great deal more than I love myself. I know that sounds strange, and for those who live in the tee-vee it's obvious nonsense and bullshit and I can't possibly know what I'm feeling. So be it. Nevertheless, in my world that's the way it works. God is first, others are second, and I am third. Any other approach has the capacity to kill my soul and turn me into a zombie, wandering the planet in a living death, a living hell. So my approach is very non tee-vee.

If it would do the magic and make her become recovered from her alcoholism I would gladly and without hesitation sacrifice myself. I'm nearing the end of my days after all, and she's barely passed the beginning of hers. It doesn't work that way though. All I can do is trust God, pray, and love her without condition. So this is what I do.

Because I walk a spiritual path I am safe and protected from joining the living dead. That doesn't mean I'm safe and protected from hurt though. This thing is terribly painful. It's leaving a significant mark. It hurts a lot and it's very hard. But God doesn't allow it to hurt too much or to be too hard. It's bearable and doable. It's right where I'm supposed to be. I'm not victimized by this, I am enriched. This reality and this path is not something the tee-vee teaches. It's available to everyone who chooses to walk the path. I feel bad for those who choose the tee-vee, but like everyone else on the planet, it's a personal choice and it's not my place to judge, approve, or disapprove. I observe, compare and contrast, understand, and love.

Like any human on the planet I'm imperfect and I'm not always at the top of my game. Yet my spiritual path is so much better than the alternative that I'll simply continue my journey and do the best I can, which is pretty much all I got.


Blast from the past -- got a sore on my chest at the site of former trauma a couple of days ago. When it was all said and done 13.5 centimeters of 4.0 nylon suture material came out. It was a pursestring suture when it went in and for various reasons we left it in, never really believing it would come out. But it did. Guess it wasn't happy and wanted to go its own way. It was a bit like that scene from Alien. Or maybe Spaceballs.


Thirteen lined ground squirrel.

Cheeks full of food.


And on to fencing. Training and education? Or perhaps a manifestation of my enormous ego?

Let's launch with a full internal bag.

Prairie engineering!

A brief and incomplete history of t-posts and other stuff...

More steel post larnin'...

Why I hang wire the way I do and some perspective on fourth generation ranch existence.

The hills are still steep and rocky but I have special advantages that my forebears did not...

Hey presto!

More interesting prairie fencing stuff. Grass is tough!


In case I forgot to mention it, I am blessed beyond measure. Not everyone is so blessed. Life is hard and ends gravely. I spent a lot of time existing rather than living my life. Given that, I am still blessed beyond measure. Some lost souls only ever exist. I believe that God's promise is ever available. In the immortal words of Major Kong, "that goes for ever' last one of ya regardless of yer race, color, or yer creed."

Be well and embrace the blessings of liberty.

Saturday, June 13, 2020

Reach and grasp

Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp,
Or what's a heaven for?

Robert Browning, Andrea del Sarto, 1855


Yesterday I simply could not get it together. I had so much fence work to do. I tried hard, and even got a couple of hours worth of work done, but my heart and body simply weren't in it.

I stopped off in a north-south draw on the Cederburg pasture to procrastinate videographically...

I took a lot of still images too. I've been watching this depression-era tricycle decompose for decades now. I suspect it'll continue to decompose long after I'm returned to dust.

What is it about sunlight and rusting metal?

New Mexican locust blooming.

Finished with the draw, I found fresh procrastination...

And even more!

On to work (ish) !


So I did get a (very) little work done.

I had a bit of puzzlement going on in my mind though. I wanted to get cracking and make work happen. But I couldn't muster up the oomph or even the burning desire.

I got home and checked my blood pressure. I'm on steroids again and they tend to drive my b/p up, so the doc had me try taking HCTZ (a water pill) when I'm on the roids.

My post-work/procrastination blood pressure was 80/40.

Yikes!  And there's your problem.

Felt much more better today with a normal b/p and plenty of work to accomplish.

There was still procrastination...

Plenty of procrastination...

But there was also work...

I'm getting a good shirt-off suntan. I'm still way too fat for it to look good or even acceptable in public, but it's much better than it was a few months ago.

And in a strange twist, after being on permahold with medical records yesterday I actually received the records in the mail today. YGTBSM!

I also continued to watch a loved one flail against the demon rum. I hate that. All I can do is trust God, pray, and love unconditionally. It's a helpless feeling but also represents spiritual growth. Sigh. And blessed.

Be well and embrace the blessings of liberty.