The Ultimate Answer to Kings

The former chicken yard has been shortened four feet and cleaned up. I cleaned out the coop, took out the boxes and roosts, turned it around, did some repairs and reworked the doors so it can serve better as an absurdly-large-for-the-purpose doghouse. Turns out I didn’t need the old top cover, the new net covers the area nicely. Only thing left to do is put up some shade fabric on the walls.

When I hung that now-very-faded sign on the gate several years ago it was meant humorously but not ironically…

…but I’m afraid I can no longer make that claim. So far Laddie is the least bad-ass excuse for a dog – that’s still recognizably a dog – in the whole neighborhood. Nice little guy, don’t get me wrong, and I’m sure once we’ve both settled in we’ll get along famously. But he truly has no dreaming idea what he’s doing here.

I finally figured out why he kept darting away during walkies – he was going after lizards. Not sure how many lizards there are in Wyoming and southern Montana, or if he’d ever even seen one before moving here. Here of course the more relevant question is how many lizards per square yard, and he finds them endlessly fascinating. It gives him the air of a dog who can’t keep his mind on one piece of business for as long as ten seconds at a time – makes walking with him rather frustrating. I’m sure we’ll work it out.

Now I still have a lot of cleaning up to do but it’s going to have to wait for the weather. I no sooner came back from belated chicken chores than the regular afternoon storm broke in mid-morning. In fact…

…there’s a river running past my yard again just this minute. Not a huge terrifying flood, just a normal “it’s raining in the east” kind of flow. Sun was shining weakly through the clouds at the time I went out to take that just a few minutes ago, but there’s another storm cell coming right at us and I’m going to post this right now and then unplug the electronics.

…and Texas law enforcement types can get in your ass about bizarrely picky rules.

For example – how seriously does your state’s Ag Commissioner take barbecue? This seriously?

On August 7, Michael Hernandez was fed up. That morning, the pitmaster glanced through the window as two inspectors from the Texas Department of Agriculture pulled up to his restaurant, Hays Co. Bar-B-Que, in San Marcos. It was about an hour before the business’s 11 a.m. opening time, and Hernandez was in a meeting. The inspectors walked in the unlocked front door to inspect the scales he uses to weigh his barbecue, he says. Hernandez cut his meeting short and found them in his kitchen. His temper flared. “Get out of my establishment,” he told them. According to Hernandez, the inspectors looked at each other, and then went back to their truck. He says they then returned with a written warning for Hernandez about delinquency on his renewal fee, and told him they were just the messengers. “Here’s my message: tell Sid that I ain’t paying a damn thing,” he said.

Hernandez was referring to state agriculture commissioner Sid Miller, who has proven himself to be obsessed with the scales inside barbecue joints.
—
“We’re in a record drought. Eighty counties are in a disaster area. We’re selling off cattle because we don’t have enough hay or grazing fields. We’re in trouble economically, and you’re chasing down barbecue joints?”

Hey, the law is the law. Even when it turns out it isn’t the law, but some honcho thinks it ought to be.

I just sort of assumed that, based on related prior experience. I’d never really tried running a 250 watt heat lamp in an off-grid power system. Because really – who would do that, right? That’s just silly.

For the record – a heat lamp is a bad idea off-grid.

Fortunately it’s summer and the Cave is already quite warm, and the chicks don’t seem to care. They bunch up to sleep, but the temp of the shower stall floor is well into the eighties. Ian’s Cave runs the only full-size refrigerator in the gulch, and it seems that’s the only load his system can tolerate with the batteries remaining comfortably charged most of the time.

After a not-good-at-all start, the remaining chicks are doing quite well. The one I thought would immediately die recovered upon getting some water in it, and they’re all growing visibly.

Random Laddie stuff…

It seems we can scratch leather bones off the “things it’s always good to send Joel in a care package” list. Laddie could not possibly care less about leather bones.

He has a definite opinion about thunder, though.

I’m working out sort of a situation with Laddie’s bed. There’s a perfect place for it in the main cabin, which is where LB’s bed always was. But he gets very anxious at night so I started leaving the door open – but it’ll be full moon in less than a week and that’s too bright for sleeping with the door open. So I brought the dog bed into the bedroom, which seems to have immediately calmed Laddie down at night – I don’t know where he slept with ML, but apparently this is what he wanted.

We had a dry, still hot day, but then just at bedtime a storm cell forced me to close most of the windows, which made it a dry still hot night – and then it didn’t deliver anything but thunder, which Laddie didn’t appreciate.

He seems cool with the bed where it now is, but I’m not – the bedroom is too small for the addition. I’m thinking of retiring the current reading chair…

…which isn’t very comfortable anyway and mostly collects junk these days, and takes up too much room for its decreasing utility. If I take it out and just put a chair there, that would free up space for the dog bed and I’d be able to use my closet again. Think I’m going to try that today using the chair from the porch.

All these generous strangers, offering to let me in on the ground floor of a Huge Money-Laundering Deal! What did I ever do to engender such widespread blind trust?

Good day and compliments, I know this letter will definitely come to you as a surprise, but I implore you to take the time to go through it carefully as the decision you make will go off a long way to determine my future and continued existence. Please allow me to introduce myself.I am CAPTAIN, ANDRE TOMAS, in 4th Battalion, 64th Armored Regiment unit here that Patrols the al-Hasakah province,Syria. I am desperately in need of assistance and I have summoned up courage to contact you.

I am presently in Syria and I found your contact particulars in an address journal. I am seeking your assistance to evacuate the sum of $2.7M (Two Million Seven Hundred Thousand United States Dollars) to you,as far as I can be assured that it will be safe in your care until I complete my service here. This is no stolen money and there are no dangers involved.

SOURCE OF MONEY:
Some money in US DOLLARS was discovered and concealed in barrels at a location in helman province when we conducted a foot patrol and it was agreed by all party present that the money be shared among us.This might appear as an illegal thing to do but I tell you what? No compensation can make up for the risks we have taken with our lives in this hellhole.The above figure was given to me as my share and to conceal this kind of money became a problem for me, so with the help of a Canadian contact working with the UN here (his office enjoys some immunity) I was able to get the package out to a safe location entirely out of trouble spot.

He does not know the real contents of the package as he believes that it belongs to an American who died in an air raid, who before giving up trusted me to hand over the package to his close relative. I have now found a secured way of getting the package out of Syria for you to pick up. I do not know how long I will remain here, as I have been lucky to survive 2 suicide bomb attacks by Pure Divine intervention.
This and other reasons put into consideration have prompted me to reach out for help. If it might be of interest to you then Endeavor to contact me immediately and we would work out the necessary formalities but I pray that you are discreet about this mutually benefiting relationship.

Please reply to: [REDACTED]

Respectfully,

Captain Tomas,
United States Soldier:Syria

Private to anyone in the NSA who happens to idly read this blog on his lunch break…

I found your contact particulars in an address journal.

No, he didn’t. Don’t rendition me, bro.

Sure, sure. Anyway, why is this bullshit article calling the bullshit flying machine a “flying car” when it has nothing to do with wheels or roads? It’s a weird-ass ultralight, not a flying car. But editors don’t need to fact-check any more. They just, um…

Okay, I don’t know what editors do anymore.

The Opener BlackFly Is a Flying Car That Doesn’t Require a Pilot’s License

And this bullshit dreamy intro video isn’t helping reduce my skepticism…

Must say – I’d love to own a VTOL. But I’ll hold out for the invisible one that can go more than 40 miles on a charge. I’m sure that’ll be the next model.

The Smallest Minority has been a favorite blog since …basically ever since I started following blogs. Lately it seemed there wasn’t nearly as much activity there, and now I learn why…

Kevin Baker, author of the blog The Smallest Minority, has had a serious health issue pop up that has him in the hospital and unable to work. His loved ones have set up a GoFundMe to help defray some of the costs since he’s exceeded his paid sick time already. I’ve already kicked in a few bucks.

Please help him if you can. He’s a good dude.

I can think of two possible explanations that make grammatical and logical sense:

1. London Mayor Sadiq Khan believes Londoners are so comically inept that they cannot keep a knife in their possession without fatally harming themselves, or…

2. “If my goons catch you with a knife, they’re likely to ‘fear for their lives’ and kill you right there.”

Can’t decide which he was going for.

Until yesterday afternoon I had begun to grow concerned about Laddie’s health. Turns out it was a failure to communicate.

The first evening after he moved in, I put some kibble in his bowl expecting him to hit it. He sniffed it and walked away. Two or three days later it was still there. He ate biscuits and scraps cheerfully – indeed, with increasing hunger – but that bowl of dry food just sat there. He seemed prepared to wait.

Clearly something wasn’t up to his standards. J&B gave me half a sack of dry food, so probably Laddie had had a hand in eating the other half. He’s not skinny, indeed he could stand to lose a pound or two. Should have asked for more detailed instructions, I guess.

Last night I was up in the pantry working on my own dinner, and came back down with a can of vienna sausages. Don’t care for them much myself, mostly I cut them up in spaghetti sauce. Opened up this can and dumped it, juice and all, into that bowl of kibble.

30 seconds later the bowl was empty and clean.

Ah hah! Okay. But he’s not getting canned food every day. If I had a refrigerator, then maybe like a third of a can a day or something – but without a fridge that’s asking for spoilage and flies.

I used to feed LB one egg a day mixed with his kibble, for his coat. I did that this morning. Laddie also found that immediately acceptable.

So he likes kibble, he just doesn’t like it dry. This is not something I’ve dealt with before. What do you guys mix kibble with?

You’re asking to get hurt.

Question, though: Why did you have to “go to the mountains” to “train” to “punch nazis?” Couldn’t you have done that in your mom’s basement?

Either way, good luck with that. I suggest you study some Nancy Pelosi videos or something, so you can at least learn to make a decent fist. (snicker) Yeah, I pity the nazi fool who stands in your way.

_{er, they have guns, you know…}

Got the concrete back stairs done this morning, along with the latch and corner posts for the kennel.

Should have gotten off my ass and off to work earlier, though…

…that’s the sunny side most of the day, and it pays to be finished with whatever you’re doing there before ninish because it heats up fast. Works to my advantage in winter, with that big window I put in the bathroom in 2015, because of all the free solar gain. Less well while futzing with concrete in summer.

But it’s done now. And if you’ll excuse me, I need a really thorough sink bath.

Yeah, it’s mid-August and there’s no frost danger. But I had a bit of insomnia, it rained much of the night, and at 3am the bedroom was chilly. So I thought it a good time to try on this new hoodie a Generous Reader sent me earlier this month…

Man, that’s nice. Roomy but not tent-like, really thick material, nice deep hood. I took it off as soon as the sun came up and Laddie and I went over to Ian’s to tend the new chicks, because it’s frickin’ August. But it was nice while I was sitting in the cabin in the dark. It’s destined to become my favorite once I lose my dread of putting the first stain on it.

Some of the spam that lands in my inbox is really quite entertaining.

Not the first time I’ve gotten this one, if my memory is correct. I’m sure they’d appriciate payment by the 20^th, but their patience seems infinite so I’ll keep procrastinating.

Don’t need to procrastinate about opening that attachment, though. I’ll just keep refusing to go near it at all. I’m an old fuddy-duddy and something of a helpless babe when it comes to computer stuff, but not even I’m that clueless.

Laddie is certified to Not Like Thunder.

How much does Laddie not like thunder? This much…

Now, when Ghost the big bad “too cool for you” desert dog didn’t like thunder – or gunfire, or fireworks, or any other loud noise – he would, in a very cool way not at all fear-related, just quietly decide for no apparent reason to occupy the kneehole of the Official TUAK Desk. But I was warned beforehand that Laddie doesn’t like crate-like closed-in spaces, either. So when he was threatened by thunder, he went for the comfy bed he had previously completely ignored.

I guess we all have our thing.

I’ve had two behind-the-cabin projects hanging fire for the past few days and it was definitely time to get back to them. I’m shortening the chicken yard and repurposing it into a dog kennel. Used up my last sack of cement on the gate post. Now I need to finish the front, and I’ll fill the blocks for the other two posts when I pour the concrete for the back stairs.

Not going as elaborate cementing down the latch post as with the gate post, but I do have to drive it in. So I started banging on the post driver, and…

Oh, somebody didn’t like that at all. He’d been hanging around close by, not really needing the tie-out at all, until all that noise started. Then he wanted to see how doings in Nebraska might work out. Continue reading →

We got an early rainstorm yesterday afternoon, after which Laddie and I went over the ridge to check on the new chicks in Ian’s Cave. Laddie finds his new environment fascinating: So many things to see, to smell, to herd. He really wants in among the chickens, and they don’t share his fascination. And so he’s constantly wandering off out of sight during walkies, something I completely relaxed about when Ghost did it but Laddie isn’t Ghost. He wasn’t born here, I don’t know if he’s snake-averse, don’t even know if he could find his way back to the cabin yet, and to any predator bigger than a doodlebug he’s going to look a lot like food. He kept wandering off, I kept calling him back. Mostly he obeyed willingly enough, but one time just as we arrived at the Cave I turned my back on him and he vanished like he’d apparated.

I looked around and called – he’s much quieter than any dog I’ve cared for in the past: I can’t hear him walk or pant, he doesn’t bark at all so far. No Laddie. Fortunately those tiny paws do leave clear marks in the wet sand, and he very clearly had launched up the ridge and past the driveway toward – something probably bigger than him. I tracked him till I lost him in some rocks, calling and calling. Of course he finally showed up behind me, by which time I wanted to punt him into a gully.

We’ll work it out. But I’m leaving for the Cave right now, and he’s coming with – on a leash.

Laddie had a kind of anxious first night, eager to be reassured when I started going vertical around five this morning. We went right outside and watered some trees together and that seemed to settle him down a bit. Then we started morning chores, helped J&B get loaded for their trip back north and were just coming back toward the Gulch from seeing them off at the cattlegate when we met Former Weekender Neighbor L on the road headed toward town. FWN L and I are going into partnership on chickens since Landlady wants out of the business, and she has been waiting for our new shipment of Leghorn chicks. So I had to run over to Ian’s, so the brooder would be warmed and ready for when she got back with the babies.

They didn’t have a good trip: Two dead and one that I think is going to die. The supplier promises to make up any losses in transit, so we should have sixteen to start.

Meanwhile Laddie is trying to find the best napping spots in the Secret Lair. Cool tile or warmer rug? Directly underfoot or only tangentially underfoot? Certainly we’ll avoid that delightfully comfortable-looking brand new bed over there…

We’ve been running around all day – and in fact I’m running out the door right now. Pix…

Laddie insists on checking out every pile of junk behind every outbuilding and I still don’t know if he’s at all snake-averse, so he’s making me a nervous wreck. But we’ll work it out.

Dig this crazy pedigree…

Yes, his geek name is S³.

But well into the evening, so I just set them up in Landlady’s house and bid them adieu. We’ll do the tour and dog hand-off tomorrow.

First, the Laddie thing is moved up to today. These guys really are driving through. So stay tuned.

Yesterday while going to collect the game camera from its apparently completely sterile location, I learned another way the wash had screwed me when it flooded a few days ago.

That chest-high washout wasn’t there before. The flat space above it is a nice gentle tributary that just naturally flowed into the wash. But now that part of the wash is several feet lower – and aimed directly at the target stand area BTW – and I had to detour around the washout through rough ground for maybe five extra minutes to collect the camera. Sheesh.

I went to see if I could dig out the big rock that was uncovered where my driveway apron used to be… Continue reading →

Yup.

Censorship PURGE points to imminent false flag violence before mid-term elections… bigger than 9/11?

(Natural News) For the last two months, I’ve been warning about the rising risk of a major false flag attack taking place before the mid-term elections. The aggressive, unprecedented PURGE of Alex Jones / InfoWars underscores the desperation of the totalitarian deep state that’s about to make a move to eliminate President Trump and / or steal the elections.

Anyone who believes that the sudden de-platforming of Alex Jones across over a dozen online services and platforms isn’t coordinated collusion is delusional. The coordinated de-platforming effort is clearly directed by the deep state to eliminate a prominent, dissenting voice in preparation for unleashing a history-shaping false flag attack that’s likely going to be bigger than 9/11.

Right, yeah. I hear the desperate bastards are sending regular embassies to the hollow earth, too, trying to drum up Reptilian assets for the military phase of their plan.

Or maybe, instead of a vast left-wing conspiracy to bring on Raul Castro as our new commissar, there’s just a shit-ton of deplorable Trump-supporting banjo-strumming mouthbreathers they’d love to drive off YouTwitFace, and they thought Alex Jones would be good low-hanging fruit for a first effort.

Note, please, that all the Streisand Effect isn’t exactly hurting Jones at the moment. So I’m not very worried about the competence with which our new progressive overlords will carry out the next phase of their Great Revolution.