The Native Iowan

1st of May is mom’s Bday…

Been a few years since the old bird passed. She had a great run, a great life, left a great legacy. Those that knew her, I am sure, agree with me when I say she was a force of nature, a phenomenal human, and the best Mom a guy could ask for. She taught me a lot. I recall every one of her “lessons in life”, aka “whoopings”. I was a slow learner.

I have written much about this huge influence on my life… Here’s one of my old tales…

It was one of those days. It had been soooo gooood. So good that you knew. There was no doubt about it. Ma would make you take a bath. You could see yourself walking up the gravel driveway. You’d be extra-special careful to stay in the lilac bushes’ shadows. Extra-special careful to not let the gravel make any noise. You’d make a dash to the back door. Slip in without a sound. And hear “Where you been? Mister!”

Not that you dislike baths. They’re okay. Fine for Saturdays. Baths can even be fun. But not today. Not when you smell just right. Not when you’d had sooo much fun. Had sooo many adventures. Not when your feet are just right. Your ankles dirty enough to look like socks. Your soles dirty, brown and tough.

A bath will ruin your feet. Ma will fill the big ol’ tub up with hot, hot water. She will make you scrape your soles with an old butter knife. Slipping over the river banks in soft feet don’t work. Shoes don’t work either. Tough, horney soled feet is what works. Already June and your feet just in shape. A bath will spoil it all. Ruin it.

She will insist on scrubbing you with a rough wash cloth. Your skin will burn under Granny’s lye soap. She will make you wash your hair. Right when it’s all oily and combs just right. It’ll come out soft and fluffy. She will make you scrub your fingernails with that little brush. Tomrrow your hands will look like a girl’s.  Clean, shiny and pink. But worse… worse of all, the bath will make you smell clean. Just when you’re smelling good. A Bath!

A bath will make you smell like Granny’s soap and Ma’s linen. Not the river. Not like dried sweat or hooked catfish and half-dead crawdads. Not like hot sun and adventures. Not like a June day filled with magic.

Ma’s linen smells fine.  Granny’s soap burns. But today’s adventures. The river. That monster catfish. You can still smell them. They still smell sweet. A bath will wash it all away. Turn it to scum on the water. And you’ll forget.

By tomorrow morning. You’ll have forgotten. You’ll wake up. Yawn. Take a deep breath. Smell Granny’s soap. Ma’s linen. And remember. The bath. Washing your hair. Helping Ma. Changing the sheets. Fluffing the pillows. Crawling into a nice, cool bed. The cool, June breeze. You’ll remember falling asleep thinking “What a magic day it had been”.

You will not smell yesterday. Yesterday’s adventures. Yesterday’s magic. All that magic. The silvery, gray catfish. Fighting against your Zebco. Against you and your Zebco. The shiny, splashing battle. You will forget slipping on that big rock. Sliding, both feet into the river. Wet to the waist. Ankle deep in river sludge. Staying balanced. Keeping the catfish hooked. Noticing the blood. The broken bottle. The cut foot only after the fish was landed.

Ma will see the cut. She will raise hell. Go on about how bad the river is. How dangerous it is. Use the cut as evidence. Proof. May even threaten to call the Doctor. Stitches! A tetanus shot! Those hated stitches. Stitches mean no river for a week, or more. And iodine! Keeping it clean. More baths!

What can you do? Hope she’s not home! Or in the back garden? Gotta be careful. Walk up the gravel driveway real quiet like. Be extra-special careful. Extra-special careful!  Stay near the lilac bushes’ shadows. Make a dash for the back door. Slip in without a sound. Cat-like quiet. Then hear “where you been? Mister!”.

Thanks Mom…

My, how time flies when you are having fun.

I am now 10 weeks post ankle surgery. I have started putting my boots on, and driving. I feel very mature, accomplished.

My puppies are 9 weeks old today. I have put them on line, advertising for finding homes for some. Some are claimed. A couple will stay here a while before we export them.

Here is the blurb I put on line describing these fine animals:
Australia’s Ultimate Mastiffs has a new litter of magnificent pups.

This is the first time in years we’ve had pups available to the public.

Australia’s Ultimate Mastiffs breeding program and blood lines are world class, or better. This litter of eight offers us another selection of beautiful pups.

Ultimate Mastiffs (also called a Neodeau Mastiff) is a large hybrid dog breed. Our breeding programme aims to blend positive traits between mastiff breeds.

Australia’s Ultimate Mastiffs are bred for intelligence, temperament and longevity. Our bloodline is mature. Producing stable, intelligent and healthy pups. Our past pups have proven to be amazing, smart and fun.

These pups show a high sense of awareness, and exhibit a natural, positive instinct of protection. Our mature dogs, from past litters, are all loved family members in their respective homes.

Pups from this bloodline weigh in @50kg full grown/ 2yrs. Though our dogs are all well socialised and 1000% child friendly, an experienced, enthusiastic dog lover/ handler is required. Our dogs are so intelligent, inexperienced owners find themselves owned by their dogs.

Australia’s Ultimate Mastiffs have medium coats, their shedding is seldom an issue. They do not produce that normal wet-dog smell. Bathing is infrequent if brushing and wiping down is done daily.

Mother of this litter is “Nia”, a 5yr-old. This is her third litter. Always a great mother, she had plenty of milk for her pups. All are growing well. They have been on solids since week 6.

Our pups have been hand-raised by young children. Within their first week, the children sat with the babies. Nia is a calm, easy mother. The children interacting with the mother and her pups shows a well dispositioned bitch… and well trained, dog handling children. The pups are smart, fun, and beautiful.

Three males and five females. A variety of colours, brindle dominant. First come gets first choice.

This is a rare opportunity to own what is perhaps the best, well bred Mastiff available anywhere.

Pups will be ready for their new homes in first week of May.

This is my favourite picture to come outta the fun n games with the kids…

Its the end of this year’s memorial-day for what are affectionally referred to as The ANZACS…

What and or who is an ANZAC?

The ANZACs were soldiers of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps, a military formation from the First World War. 

Often referred to as “the Colonials”. There is much discussion and writing about the ANZACs and their bravery.

These days there is less respect for deeds of historical importance. Less memory of that which shaped our modern world. Less appreciation for those who were involved, suffered and died.

Thats kinda sad…

Lest We Forget

God of our fathers, known of old,
Lord of our far-flung battle line,
Beneath whose awful hand we hold
Dominion over palm and pine —
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

The tumult and the shouting dies;
The Captains and the Kings depart:
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

Far-called, our navies melt away;
On dune and headland sinks the fire:
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

If, drunk with sight of power, we loose
Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe,
Such boastings as the Gentiles use,
Or lesser breeds without the Law—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

For heathen heart that puts her trust
In reeking tube and iron shard,
All valiant dust that builds on dust,
And, guarding, calls not Thee to guard;
For frantic boast and foolish word—
Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord!

A chilled, still Sunday morn here in the valley. The sun is muted. The skies pastel. The greenery shines and shows off its green-ness.

One can feel the change of the seasons. Smell the change, the soon to come cold morns and dry days, the migration of birds, the movement of the herds of deer.

It has been rut-season lately. The deer have been bellowing and fighting. We watched one old buck get his antlers ripped off and chased away by a young-stud. Survival of the fittest played out as a drama on the front lawn.

The world continues on its confused, violent, angst filled trajectory.

One topic from this past week… Pope Leo, AKA Bob from Chicago, has decided it’s his job to discuss war and death in the Middle East. He condemns it all. Says… “Pope Leo has repeatedly condemned violence on both sides while advocating a two-state solution as the “only solution” that respects the legitimate aspirations of both Israeli and Palestinian peoples. He has openly noted that the current Israeli government does not accept a Palestinian state, but the Vatican continues to push for it as the path to justice and lasting peace.”

But Bob from Chicago has little to say about the genocide of christians in parts of Africa… “Pope Leo XIV has addressed the situation of Christians in Sudan in the context of the ongoing civil war (which began in April 2023 and marked its third anniversary in April 2026). His comments focus on the broader humanitarian catastrophe affecting the Sudanese people, including Christians, while specifically highlighting persecution and discrimination against Christians in the country.”

And in regards to Somalian christians being targeted by Islam… Pope Leo XIV has not made highly specific or frequent public statements focused exclusively on Christians in Somalia. Somalia is one of the most dangerous countries in the world for Christians, where the tiny underground community (mostly Muslim-background converts) faces extreme risk from Al-Shabaab, which hunts down and executes suspected Christians.

I find it interesting that Bob from Chicago has more to say about Israel, Palestine and Iran than the disappearing Christians in Africa and the world. I do believe he is playing politics too much. Thats not his job.

Speaking of disappearing Christians… Christianity overall is being eradicated from many traditionally Christian lands:

Country. Decline in Christian % (points)
Australia. –20 Dropped below 50% (to ~47%)
Chile. –18. Sharp secularization
Uruguay –16 Now ~44%; first in Americas to lose majority
United States. –14 To ~64% (later stabilized around 62%)
Canada. –14
United Kingdom Lost majority now 49%
France Lost majority now 46%

I have been saying that I do not understand why Allan does not like dogs, so I ask Grok… Allan does not “dislike” dogs in the sense of hating the animal itself as an evil or immoral creature. Islam teaches kindness and mercy toward all animals, including dogs. The negative associations come almost entirely from hadith (sayings attributed to Prophet Muhammad), not the Quran, and center on ritual purity (tahara) rather than moral condemnation.

So all I can say is Praise be to Allan. Allan is good and great.

speaking of dogs…

I had a lovely time with an old friend this past weekend. My friend is 44yrs-old, I have known him for 40 years. His parents are close friends and I revel in the fact that his kids get to come play and hang with me and my grandkids. It was fantastic.

Yesterday we were having a general discussion on the world and the wonkiness of present days. We were discussing the incumbent government here in Aus and what I believe is their foolish and corrupt practices of investing mega-bucks in the green-dream schemes, which my research and experience has shown to be “the wrong road” into the future.

One of the biggest problems I see is that folks are basically ill-informed but still voice a conditioned response… Like its proven gospel, the world, the media, the respective governments that have been spending mega-bucks on ill conceived and grossly financially nonviable projects, has done a dandy job and brainwashing folks to believe the solar panels on your roof plus the wind generators off shore, eventually, will make energy cheap and abundant.

My experience does not proof this theory. In fact, after over 20 years of constant, hands-on, pay the bills and fix the problems experience, I firmly disagree with the concept that a) Green is Green, and b) renewables are renewable.

I go back in time to 2014 to find this bit of explanation I did then. My point then was to de-mystify the BS that is being shovelled about, to challenge the propaganda, and to critique my own thoughts and position per all of this… I hope it helps:

_{I just grabbed this online from a local supplier offering a special, while stocks last, deal. So commercially we can quickly see that off the street you can buy…}

Average annual usage is a bit confused, I will aim to break cost down demographically but we well know that the few consume more than the many…

_{So I’ll use a high average for western world domestic private consumption of 8000 kWh pa. 8000 kWh pa = an on-call supply of 22kW per day with peak demand being night time.}

Every once in a while I’m dragged into these discussions mixing apples n eggs. In most of those conversations it’s common when someone starts mixing up the units: kW vs kWh. Since they both mean something completely different, it’s important to use the correct one.

kW is a unit of power. Unfortunately they often use kWh (kilowatt hour) which is a unit of energy. Let’s apply this on an analogy that most people can relate to: cars. Power is measured in bhp or kW, energy is measured in…. gallons of fuel that can fit in the fuel tank!

So if you are one of those people who mixes up the units I hope this helps.

Now, we’re discussing the “advantage” a photovoltaic collection system offers, noting that most of the published “facts” indeed claim there to be an advantage… lets discuss what we are measuring… and it is easy…

Easy: so say we’ve need 20 kW. That’s 20,000 W, which is 20,000 J/s.
An hour has 3600 seconds (60 seconds in a minute, 60 minutes in an hour).
In an hour we will use up 20,000 J/s * 3600 s = 72,000,000 joules. A lot of zeros is annoying so let’s shorten that to 72 mega joules or 72 MJ. If we kept up our 20 kW use for a day we’d use 72MJ/hr * 24 hours = 1728 MJ or 1.728 GJ.

So I think it’s obvious that this is… less than ideal. If you use a lot of power or measure over an extended timespan you’ll end up with numbers that are less than meaningful… something economists and the World Bank love. But not ideal for the average consumer.

So let’s make it a bit easier and make up a new unit: kWh!

kWh means kiloWatt-hour. Writing it down as you’ve learned in your physics lessons it would look like: kW*h or kW times an hour. In the real world it’s the amount of energy that you would use if you used 1 kW of power for 1 hour.

Back to our 20 kW that, for 1 hour, uses 20 kWh of energy. Easy right? If we kept the use up  for 24 hours it’s 20*24=480kWh. One year later we’ve used 175,200 kWh or close to 175 MWh. Much easier to calculate, right?!

Ok, so we see the discussion is not as straight forward and that the numbers both bamboozle and confuse. 

Also, an average photovoltaic system can only produce full capacity about 50% of the time, noting annual output, rain or shine, for a 1.5kW system would be less than .75kW.  But, even at full output for 10 hours per day a 1.5 system will produce no more usable electricity than a total 5500 kW per annum, and in all reality is at least 50% less for 2700 kW pa.

Thus, if you were aiming to have 100% of your 8000kWh usage covered by a collection system, in my opinion,  you need , conservatively, a full 10 such 1.5kW systems, with a serious battery bank. The system would need to be cranking hard to produce all your day-time power plus would need to be recharging the battery-bank for the night’s demands.

I know this is a flawed equation but continuing with the green theme and the inherent delusion being marketed we see that a system which would cater to a modern domestic household would need to be:

a)    Able to produce for use and storage a static 1.5kWx 10 for an on call 15kW at any given time x 10 hours per day. Note that storing the energy produced requires batteries, a lot of batteries.

b)    The foot print of this system would be huge. The panels plus the batteries would require some serious infrastructure and loads of maintenance.

_c)     Buy-in cost 10 x $2399.00 for a total of $23,990.00. This does not include battery cost which could be up to double the cost of the collection system.

_d)    Looking at a 10 year life span on the collection system we’d  be taking 2399.00 annual cost / 8000kW used pa for an average costing = $0.30kWh.

_e)    If my experience is correct and you only produce 50% of capacity from a collection system, the cost jumps to  $0.60 kWh.

And we don’t have a battery bank factored in here.

I know there is no “definitive” answer in the “energy discussion” but I keep coming up against confused thoughts and discussions when it comes to what is GREEN. We like the warm-fuzzy feel of GREEN. But, indeed, is IT, any of IT,  green?

Noting the world prices for electricity:

I still fail to find an advantage to a domestic photovoltaic collection system, unless – like the one on my roof – it is subsidised

It’s a Saturday morning here, in the land Down Under. The skies are soft blue, the air is still. Cattle on the hillside graze, my dogs doze. it’s a gentle morning. My little valley breaths softly, the birdlife bustles.

We have shifted the puppies from the whelping pen to a bigger puppy pen. Their mama, Nia, is done producing milk. Spot on 6weeks she’s finished nursing. For the past few days she has refused to get into the pen with the pups. I’m certain it hurts too much for her to have all eight clawing and biting and sucking on her. The pups get big bowls of milk and puppy food. They are not complaining.

My big stud-dog, Dandy, spent the last 7 weeks in a kennel. He does not like being confined and complains and cries and fusses. But he’s out now and is soooo hapi and sooo cooperative. I find it interesting to study his character change. Just like Nia, after weeks of being “out”, dealing with whelping and nursing her pups, she is back in her kennel and she is exceedingly hapi.

I could talk about the longterm situation here where no meaningful production of fuel is happening at all. I have been involved in the Petro-Chemical industry around these parts for decades and have watched as refining capacity was shut down and storage capacity diminished. The idea has been “just in time” delivery systems from refineries in Asia. For ages and ages there has been no more than 30days stock-on-hand at any given time.

Our government here in Australia is a sad, sad bunch of posers. Tossers.

This is catching up to us now. The problem is that Aus has taken up the Nut-Zero banner and is determined to drag it to their demise. Aus has huge resources but chooses to play the Green-Renewable fiddle instead of being a net producer.

Which leads me to the overall decrease in general productivity throughout all sectors of this lovely land… Aus use to be a net producer… a manufacturer… A world player in commodities and innovation.

“Aus use to be” is the operative term herein.

I think its important to agree that 1) Green aint Green, and 2) Renewables are not Renewable.

Wood Not War… Dogs are Good…

More later

It’s been 6weeks plus 4days since the Saw-Bones had his way with me. It’s a funny thing to seek, work for, pay for an opportunity to be “fixed”. And not in the animal-husbandry sense. Fixed in the broken sense…

My life of wild adventure and blatant disregard of risk has led me an age where I have more than a few parts n pieces that don’t work like they use to. I claim I am a 1957-model that has been used hard and heavy. Not a garage-star 57-model thats been on-charge and undercover. Nope, my chassis has been damaged and driven damaged for a long time.

It’s amazing how well our body adapts to injury. We are self-healing in most instances. I feel myself standing pretty straight and strong. I’ll not push my new ankle too much. I have pretty much taken this year off from “business” and will relax, heal, mend, then see where we are.

I must say I’m ready to be up and moving. Not just hobbling like an ol fart, but moving, moving again.

Dogs are good….

Life is guud…

More later

I’m watching and reading and working on the topic of “stolen land”. That modern-day concept that because of the evil, nasty, greedy white-guys, who came and dominated and destroyed and took and plundered… because of those terrible, terrible “European slave masters” every inch of land everywhere is stolen. The Americas, Australia, New Zealand, Africa, Asia, The Pacific Islands, The Arctic and Antarctic … Every inch of the globe, as nears as I can tell, is “Stolen Land”.

I think of the time, energy and finance invested in modern society’s Security of Tenure… Security of tenure is the legal or perceived certainty that an individual’s or community’s land rights will be recognized and protected against forced eviction, harassment, and arbitrary displacement.

Security of Tenure is a corner-stone to modern society. Without security of tenure there is no modern society.

I fear I am witnessing the erosion of this basic concept of civilisation if the property I own can be claimed by a second party. There must be a reason. And there must be a process to sort it all out. Quickly. We know our 21stCentury legal system plods slowly and is very costly.

I had a situation years ago when the Aussie-Feds decided they wanted a portion of a piece of land I owned. They wanted to expand the rail line, needed 2 of the 6 acres I owned. The 6 acres I’d been spending money to get development approvals on. The 6 acres that I was in negotiations to sell to another developer. The Feds came in with very heavy hands. Told me there was nothing I could do. I needed to sit down and shut up.

I put my high-cost lawyer on to it. We closed the door to the negotiations to sell the 6acres. Because we had a documented sale in hand we were able to claim that the price the Feds were offering was insufficient. As a 6acre plot this was a valuable residential development. Cut 2 acres from it and its no where the same opportunity.

For 2years my lawyer traded letters with the Feds. For 2years I paid legal fees. For 2years my development and my money invested therein was frozen. Everything on hold as the Feds and my lawyer traded letters.

Eventually we received a letter from the Feds saying that they’d changed their mind, no longer needed my land, and thanks for the fun times… I completed the development work, received approval to build 33 new homes, and sold the project on.

I was able to claim “costs”, which means any fees for the legal arguing were repaid. Any losses through derailed and delayed development were moot. I got hosed, spent a lot of time and money to get nowhere. Lost 2years of traction and action. All instigated by legal arguments over who had rights over the land.

This story is not new or uncommon. Mankind tends to argue and fight and dispute over ownership of land. It a mammalian trait I think.

And it gets more confused and complicated… The Wurundjeri Woi-wurrung people have lodged a historic native title claim with the Federal Court over metropolitan Melbourne, including the CBD, aiming to gain control over Crown land. The claim covers 10,000 square kilometers, focusing on parks and reserves. Here in QLD we see similar happening: Aboriginal land claims in Queensland (QLD) represent a complex intersection of historical justice, native title law, and modern land-use disputes, with ongoing challenges regarding land transfers and the impact on local communities. Currently, over 28% of the state is under determined native title, with a significant amount still under claim.

And in the USofA… Native land initiatives in California, often referred to as the “Land Back” movement, focus on returning ancestral lands to Indigenous stewardship, addressing historical wrongs stemming from the non-ratification of 18 treaties in 1851-1852 which left many California tribes landless. The state is currently attempting to reverse this, aiming for 7.5 million acres (roughly the amount promised in the 1850s) to be under tribal stewardship

For grins and giggles what happening in Greece… historical memory, and economic pressure, particularly on islands and in rural areas. The challenges include the management of communal land rights, disputes over land ownership in the context of tourism development, and the long-term impact of population exchange and migration.

Is there a place on the planet where mankind is not fighting over land… Here’s what Groks thinks: Yes, there are a few places on Earth where humans are not actively fighting over land in any meaningful sense—either because the land is effectively unclaimed, or because international agreements have frozen disputes and prohibited militarization or new claims.

Here’s a peek at my piece of Stolen Land…

More later

Its another “Wood Not War” post… Another post where I’m thinking about the propensity of mankind to drag his God into any conflict he enters. As near as I can tell most all Gods are quite blood thirsty…

I have previously postulated that all war is sinful… https://nativeiowan.com/2025/10/13/2025-v10-the-sin-of-war/

A couple conversations I am in work on the idea that Mankind’s god being very war-hungry… Noting well there are many texts, many prophesies, many dogmas and much war…

Interesting, and timely, I have a friend that gives me pages of words explaining why Nostradomus was correct in predicting DJT will lead the world to the end days. Not being too flippant here, but my friend is sincere in his beliefs that “the time in nigh”. He sees it clearly in the words he reads.

I need to do research on ancient texts predicting end-days that mention trump, trumpet, trope, or something close… Amazing what one can find in “the tea leaves”…

Of course, in our shared planetary culture, the biggest conspiracy theory(s) out there revolve around THE religious texts.

Of the 3 major religions, all sharing a family tree, which is right, true, correct? Which dogma teaches us the Truth? And how should we interpret those chapters given to instructing the faithful, teaching and laying down laws…

Did Allan really tell Mohammad that he could bonk his captives and make sex slaves of them? So say the holy texts… God on our side sorta thing?

Is murder really a “mortal sin”? If I murder another am I condemned to damnation? But, if I am a soldier on the “Right Side” I’m ok?

I just recalled “the book of Enki”…

“The Book of Enki”… I’m sure you’re familiar with it… The book is written as a first-person “memoir” from Enki (Ea), covering ancient events from the Anunnaki’s perspective: Of course, according to some, the Anunnaki are the star gods that created mankind, to mine gold for them.

… I have known people who put great effort and energy into decoding the meanings within the Enki text… I just checked and there are interpreted predictions specific to DJT found therein. Which is not surprising. Been more than a decade since I crossed path with Enki’s book. Almost forgot about it. But it too has god(s) on its side… ???

The bottom line I see with all is the requirement of FAITH to see the future through the texts. Faith can move mountains. Faith cannot be argued with. Faith can be deadly… just ask any successful suicide bomber.

I have been told that DJT is “The Last Great President sent by God”… That one takes a huge whack of FAITH, me thinks.

After a lifetime of being a charlatan, a prophet, a preacher, a searcher, a bodhisatva…. I’ve settled into the armchair role of being a commmentator.

I’m not looking to have any of the answers, tho I do like to ask questions. I do understand the waste of energy working to prove a personal theory to be factual…

In the late 70s I had a wolf, was looking for a female to breed with him… I was convinced the end was nigh through wars and bombs and Raygun… I was an accomplished survivalist. I figgered I would survive and even thrive post end world collapse. A good knife, a bit of rope and a great canine by my side… I was invested in preparing to be right. I wanted to be right.

Interestingly enough my survivalist attitude took me many places, but each step proved my youthful beliefs to be erroneous, flawed, wrong. The END OF TIME was not nigh in 1979. Is it nigh now?

There is no war without sin. As simple as that.

It is much easier to salve our moral sensibilities thinking “god on our side”, or that it is indeed a “holy war”… Yet it is all sinful.

Without a doubt, each specific group of “faithful” will fervently believe that they are Right and Just and their God has sent them to impose their will against others… That it is their duty…

I see it as mostly mammalian, territorial aggression, sanctioned by religious dogma.

Wood Not War…

First of the Fourth… traditionally “April Fools” day… April Fools’ Day, celebrated annually on April 1st, is a tradition rooted in centuries-old customs, likely stemming from spring equinox festivals marking nature’s renewal with mischief.

A lot going on around the Globe. I feel a chill wind of change blowing. I see sins of many fathers past, coming home to roost. I hear a shrill cry of angst coming from all corners.

The tide of change is forming off shore. Like a tropical-low, you can feel it building, brewing. It may take some time, its happening unseen, in the distance, will arrive when we least expect.

I shan’t predict or forecast. I am spending my retirement not as an active participant, my activist day are long gone, I am these days no more than a commentator. A comfortable ol-fart watching the glorious great pageant of life.

One old buddy spoke years ago of “Headlines from the Sidelines”… I understand, now.

One more week of being arse-bound. Got a lot to do, a lot to look forward to.

More later

March is getting short. 3rd of 2026 heading toward its end.

And I am not wanting it to slow down, to NOT end, soon…

Ive been 2 days less than 5 weeks with my leg-up. It’s been a bit of a trial, a struggle to survive sitting on my arse. I get to start using my reconstructed ankle soon, but not soon enough. This sitting gets boring…

The good newz is my care-giving family have been great. The kids have been as good as kidz can be. And… we have puppies…

Puppies are guuuuud…. One month old and growing great. We set the puppy-kennel up on the verandah, outside the living room. I get to sit in my chair and watch what I call “puppy porn”…

Our mama-dawg, Nia, is relaxed with the kids. I think she enjoys them “helping”.

I am quite vain about my breeding-stock… Ive been building my bloodline for quite a few years. We’ve had some bad luck along the way… lost a couple males along the way, lost a few years of productivity, but we now have a very good recipe and are producing amazing, once in a lifetime canines.

And life is good.

I look forward to being mobile, soooooon….

More later

Or a cure for depression…

Have a running conversation with a wise friend in which we contemplate, discuss, argue over the “State” of planetary affairs. The cool thing about this particular friend is he possesses no Derangement Syndrome symptoms. He thinks well, understands info, enjoys research…

Wish I could say the same about more people I know and interact with…

My friend tends to lean away from the USofA, Trump, and the current American trajectory.

One recent discussion tabled the idea that “Russia is cleaning up” as the US gets bogged down with Iran. That China and Russia would be the real winners of the Iranian change of regime.

I shall take a look at this idea, try to stay on-topic, not get distracted by tangent topics… lets see if I can… I’ll rely on GROK to help me have a look at all of this…

Lets look at China’s recent energy situation: In 2025, China’s crude oil imports reached a record high, averaging around 11.55–11.6 million barrels per day (bpd) (totaling about 557–577 million tons for the year). This represented a solid increase of approximately 4.4–4.9% compared to 2024 (when it was around 11.1 million bpd). The surge was driven by factors like low global oil prices, geopolitical tensions prompting stockpiling, refinery expansions, and oversupply in the market. December 2025 alone saw a record monthly high of about 13.18 million bpd, up 17% year-over-year. A significant portion of the 2025 growth (around 430,000 bpd according to analysts like Rystad Energy) went toward building strategic stockpiles rather than immediate refining demand, as China sought to buffer against supply risks.Moving into 2026, the upward trend has continued strongly in the early months. January–February 2026 imports totaled 96.93 million tons (about 11.99 million bpd average), marking a 15.8–16% increase year-over-year from the same period in 2025. This reflects ongoing high refinery throughput and further stockpiling amid global uncertainties (including Middle East tensions affecting routes like the Strait of Hormuz).

So China has been “preparing for war”. Stockpiling in preparation for what was on the cards? Does this tells us that China knew what was to come, what was going to happen in Iran?

Lets look at Russia’s recent energy situation: 2025 overall: Russian crude oil production was largely flat or saw a slight decline compared to 2024. It averaged around 10.3–10.4 million barrels per day (bpd) earlier in the year but faced downward pressure from OPEC+ voluntary cuts, Western sanctions (including on major producers like Rosneft and Lukoil), reduced drilling activity (lowest in three years), and a strong ruble hurting revenues. Outlooks for 2026 vary, but many point to modest growth or recovery later in the year: Production is not surging; it’s more constrained by OPEC+ agreements (extended cuts through 2026) and external pressures, though some rebound is anticipated if market conditions improve

What do these constraints ex-Iran mean to the global energy market: We hear daily that 20% of world oil flows through the Strait of Hormuz (the narrow waterway connecting the Persian Gulf to the Gulf of Oman and the Arabian Sea). Most primarily flows to Asian markets, with the vast majority destined for a handful of major importers.Under normal conditions (pre-any recent disruptions in 2026), around 20 million barrels per day (b/d) of crude oil, condensate, and petroleum products transit the strait—representing about 20-25% of global seaborne oil trade and roughly one-fifth of world oil consumption. The top destinations are overwhelmingly Asian economies heavily reliant on Middle Eastern (Persian Gulf) supplies from producers like Saudi Arabia, Iraq, UAE, Kuwait, Iran, and Qatar.

What do these constraints ex-Iran mean to the US energy market: US crude oil imports average about 6.2–6.6 million bpd (e.g., ~6.17 million bpd annual average in 2025. The sources are heavily concentrated in the Western Hemisphere for proximity, pipeline access, and lower geopolitical risk. Together, Canada + Mexico account for ~67–70% of US crude imports. Imports from the Persian Gulf (including Saudi Arabia, Iraq, UAE, Kuwait, etc.) total only about ~8% of US crude imports. Persian Gulf imports are a small fraction, and disruptions there (like recent 2026 events) have minimal direct supply impact on the US but can still raise global prices (affecting US pump prices indirectly via world oil benchmarks).

In summary: Unlike China (heavily reliant on Middle East/Strait of Hormuz flows), the US sources most of its imported oil from friendly, nearby neighbors in North America. This diversification, plus record domestic production, reduces vulnerability to distant chokepoints like Hormuz

OK, so the world is shuddering from the “War in Iran”. Prices for energy/ fuel are going up. Supply for some places (Asia) is under threat of being disrupted. I know there are many, many considerations world-wide, and that I am taking a simplified approach to all this. There are many more metrics to consider. Oil is not the only consideration, but it is a big one.

I think we should seriously consider how the departure, from the global stage, of the World’s Leading Supporter for Islamic Terrorism means to one and all. A world without a Jihadist Iran… changes a lot, quickly.

One more thing I feel is important… What does the future look like? What will the future look like? Globally I think we are heading toward a time of shifting spheres of influence. A new world order?

I very much see a change in the way foreign affairs takes place. There was once an ideal of a “global world order”. Rules and Laws and agreements and conventions aimed to keep all honest have not worked. For ages we have known that our global systems are outdated, nonfunctional. Trade has become as much of a weapon as bombs. The way we wage War is changing (again)… Drones that cost a pittance cause huge damage. One drone-pilot can control multiple armed units. AI changes the scene big-time. Manufacturing and distribution has been waiting for change a long time. We have been operating in a 20th Century manner for about 25 years too long.

The future… we know that “strong-man” systems do not age well. I think of Stalin, I think of Russia…

Thinking about Russia: Without chasing the hard facts…. Russia has been run by a “strong man”, a dictator, a Party Leader, a murderous villain … for a long time. He has done a good job of “removing” all threats to his control, his reign. He is feared without a doubt. But is he in control. AND… does he have an exit strategy, a future succession plan? Not sure he has the luxury. He has only power and control. I don’t think he has a future. The history of Josef Stalin in very interesting. His succession was a horrible, bloody mess. Putin has always reminded me of Stalin. Putin will not live forever. He will probably rule as long as he lives. Not much of a future for him, a decade at most…which makes RUSSIA’S future VERY QUESTIONABLE.

Thinking of China: Much like Russia, China is run by a “strongman”. What happens when he can no longer hold tight to power?

And Cuba: Same and different. Cuba’s future as a Communist satellite may well be ending soon…

???

I see a new World Order in the making.

Wood not War…

As I spend the days sitting on my arse, leg-up, mobility severely restricted… my mind wanders…

A few years back an old compadre spent his last few days on this spinning orb in hospital, in hospice, waiting for Death. His family were near, he was receiving the best care possible for one that is dying. The best care possible for one that was waiting for Death.

I was lucky in that I got to spend my ol Pard’s last few eves on this planet, his last words, tales, jokes and tears… all while sitting by his bed, drinking a nice scotch, reminiscing, saying goodbye…

My Buddy had not planned to die in a hospital bed in Queensland. Nope, that was not the plan at all. But we all know plans dont always and all ways go “as planned”. My buddy thought he’d check in, get some medical help, get back on a plane and fly back home, to Gizo, to the Solomon Islands.

It did not happen that way at all…

So we’re sitting by his bedside. The end is near. Death could come any moment.

Family all around. My wife has gone for a walk with by Buddy’s wife, taken her out of the room, out side, to get some air, to get away from the room where we all waited for Death.

I was sitting with my Buddy’s son, we’re chatting, telling stories. A nice bottle of fine whiskey is open, we sip the lovely dark fluid.

My Buddy’s son helps his dad drink, moistens his lips with his favourite drop. helps him take a last “wee dram”…

My Buddy has asked the nursing staff for some pain-meds.

A nurse arrives to ask what is needed. She see the bottle of grog, listens to the banter, smiles at us in a knowing way. We chat a bit. The mood is light, as light as can be when Death is imminent.

When asked about his pain my Buddy sates “its killing me, I cant take it”…

When asked more about the pain my Buddy admits… “My hemorrhoids, they are killing me”…

We all fell on the floor laughing…

He died about 24 hours later.

Smiles through tears…

A soft Sunday morning coming down. Blood sport is on. The little lady-dog sleeps on my lap.

I’m into my 3rd week post-op, leg-up, bored-shitless. This constant, incessant sitting is a chore. All I can do is move from sleeping in my bed to sitting and snoozing in my chair. I am somewhat mobile, meaning I can get to the bathroom on my own. In and out of the shower I still need help. I have not cooked or prepared food, made a pot of coffee, fed the dogs, or done much more than move from bed to chair, for 21 days.

And it’s all OK. Here with me, it’s all OK.

My family are enjoying my decrepitude. My dependancy. They do what needs doing with smiles and laughter. The kids can be noisy, but they are cute. They can get away with a bit of noise. And the house is big. If they get too rambunctious I send them downstairs.

A rambling, leg-up diatribe…

World-wide things are tense… An intense vibe of ANGST is evident. The smell and taste of metal illness that walks the streets and occupies the alleyways of our cities is pervasive… From “Trans-Death-Squads” to support for the Evil Iranian Mullahs… From grade-school kids being let out of class to protest in the streets to Jews in NYC voting-in an antisemite Mayor… From real Transsexuals saying “leave the children alone” to Drag being brought into kindergarten for “story time”…

Much of what I see, in my mind, is framed within the general topic of “Destroy the Traditional Family”. Add a dash of “Death to the Infidel” and we have a recipe for danger. A society no longer proud and strong but one that hates itself, is filled with self-loathing, walking unshackled to slaughter… ???

Masculinity is toxic. Parents have no real rights over their children. The “institutes” of School and State and Unionised Educators know what is best for “Our Children”.

Yes, those hippish, smiling, cat loving, childless 60year-old “teachers” know what is best. Both the neutered male teachers, and the masculine female teachers… They know what is good, and what is bad… They know that abortions are good (they have had many), men are bad (they have had many), and they know comfort can be found in a feminised world, with a large glass of red wine.

And in some lands the removal of the Traditional Family has gained traction, gained popularity… In some Countries the aged-population is encouraged to end their own lives before it’s too late, too painful, too costly. World-wide we have become comfortable with the idea of the convenience of abortion. Yes, “The Convenience of Abortion”… the idea that a young female’s life will be better because she can legally murder that which is growing within her. And of course it works. It is very convenient to simply erase the life-within. Sorta like a “get out of jail free” card?

If its OK to discard our unborn, may as well be ok to discard the aged?

We are witnessing the exposure of massive graft, corruption, fraud, and abuse within our National Social Services. World-wide… After decades of enlightened thought and funding social programs, we find that its all a big con-job…

Its like the opening of Pandora’s box of evil…

Billions spent on “doing good”… Billions, with a B… Your tax-dollars at work… poured into the trough for the swine to swill.

Much ends up back in the Politicians’ pockets. Plus or minus a few Billion siphoned off along the way for cronies, vote-buying and, of course, legit expenses…

Here in Aus, in the USA, throughout Europe… The programs that are suppose to do good, support, assist, “help” the disabled or the elderly or others “in need”… The programs that are funded by the taxpayer, implemented by the State and aimed at “doing good” are proven to be nothing more than institutions of corruption. Slush funds for whomever is in control.

And as near as I can tell no one Party, no one Politician, no one Official is more corrupt, more bad, more evil… They all know the score. In my mind, They are All paid by the same Master. No one Political Player can make a difference. The Machine is against change. So the Machine grinds away, relentless, unstoppable… ???

I think of the United Nations… If there was ever a den of vipers, a corrupt entity living off the blood of those they claim to represent and protect… Well Hell… I have not seen much, if any, positives coming from the UN for a long time… maybe ever.

And we let it carry on, We fund it, Support it, to our own detriment…

My standard byline applies:

Wood Not War…

It’s a nice morning here in my valley. Sunny, blue skies, still air. The day will be gentle.

My small house-dog, Lady-Godzilla, has just crawled up and snuggled into a spot by my side. My right foot is up on pillows, my ankle is wrapped in a velcro boot. The ankle feels pretty good. I feel healing happening. I’m 15-days into this leg-up lifestyle… only 25-days more to go…

My big dogs are all quiet. The 8 puppies must be happy. They make no noise. They have had the night with their “Dame”. Their bellies should be full.

The Mamma dog is lying in the sunshine by the door. 6month-old. Pepper, is lying in the shade near her. He licks the spot where he used to have testicles. The other 3 “breeders” are in their kennels. No one is fussing. Yet.

As the day heats up they will fuss more. Especially the new-born pups. They are growing, getting teeth and nails. The mamma dog often neglects them until she is damn good and ready to have the 8 little beasts crawl and chew and suck on her. Yesterday we introduced them to powdered milk. A bowl of water mixed with a thick creamy pile of powdered milk. At 2weeks old, they are getting close to solid food. And, as discussed, any help we can give the mamma dog is welcome. A feeding of milk, daily, for now will take a lot of pressure off the mamma. It’s an attempt to “plan for success”.

Ive been around breeding dogs most of my life. Ive seen a lot of pups die young. Ive seen Dames get sick, have mastitis, refuse to nurse their litter. A lot can go wrong. It can be a huge amount of effort to keep a big litter of pups alive. An effort that is rarely successful.

It is a “circle of life” sorta thing… The more you interact with nature, the more you get involved in animal-husbandry, the more you see and touch death.

So we do what we can in a premeditative posture. Keep the mamma healthy is #1. I am not a proponent of hand-feeding, hand raising a big litter like this. My aim is all ways and always to breed and raise the very best canines possible. Nature has to have some say in all of this. My mamma has 8 teats. She just dropped 12 pups. She was dropping pups for at least 12 hours.

As soon as a pup drops we aim to assist by getting the pup on a teat as quickly as possible. A pup has a good chance of survival if it gets to suckling ASAP. Of course it’s kind’a hard when the mamma is dropping pups for more than just a few hours. The longer the deliver process the more chance for the loss of a pup or 2.

As well, all litters have runts, weaklings. Sometimes the first borns are the runts, sometimes the last borns are the weaklings. I can find no definitive pattern.

My dogs normally drop huge litters. This last litter was 12. We’ve had a couple litters of 10. Our biggest was a litter of 16. But Ive never seen a full litter survive. There are always some pups lost in the first few days. Some are just weak. Some get crushed or suffocated by the pack. Some succumb to cold. The trick is to minimise the early mortality rate. Give them a chance of survival, without too much interference.

So we do what we can to support survival of as many as possible. 8 live pups 2weeks after birth, out of 12 born, is pretty average. Pretty darn good.

One thing I see, as I do my morning leg-up review of world events….

Nick Fuentes: “I want Iran to win and the United States to lose”

This is a sad, negative vibe that is not terribly uncommon. People “rooting” for the failure of their society. Sadly, not uncommon.

In this sense “rooting” is a common, positive phrase of encouragement meaning someone is cheering for your success, wishing you well, and firmly on your side.

Thus “rooting for failure” is self-evidently negative. And in my mind quite foolish.

Of course, this young commentator, N Fuentes, is an agitator. An activist. An influencer. He uses shock and awe, and other parlour type prestidigitation tricks, to gain attention. He makes his living by being controversial.

I have written about being proud and patriotic and nationalistic. I have also written about being in opposition to the Government-of-the-day. It’s a fine line to be critical of the Gov, but it is often required. Yet wishing for, rooting for the failure of all that one is critical of… Hmmmm…. I say, Hmmmmm…

Dont make. a lot of sense to me.

Wood, not War is my by-line:

More later

Two-weeks in a cast. Two-weeks sitting on my arse, Leg-Up. Two-weeks of sedentary voyeurism. Two-weeks, too long…

But I guess this is what getting old is all about… slowing down, losing choices, listening to the Doctor.

For over 14 days I have been a monopodial creature. I find it quite frustrating. But I am coping well, enjoying the care of my family, enjoying the kids being around, enjoying being waited on. But it has to end…

Healing is a process.

It wont end until it’s all healed.

May be a while.

Healing, like patience, is a process…

I am a slow learner.

Speaking of Healing: Saw this on-line… Makes me think the “Modern Western World” is heading down a rough road…

More later

I am coming out from a couple weeks of fog. I have been in a mentally deficient state for a full 14 days. Today is the first time in many days I am mentally proficient enough to read and write…

I went in for ankle surgery 14 days ago. They knocked my arse out with good drugs and kept me dopey with opioids. I must admit that worked well and the doses were adequate, but my marbles got messed up, my brains got scrambled, my mental abilities were severely inhibited by the opioids. Ive tried to read, tried to do some writing, but my mind cant hold onto the task at hand. I wander off, mentally, get lost aimlessly wandering around…

It’s been 14 days of my foot-up, my arse down, and my brain scrambled… I find mindless TV series to be a good past time. My ol-time favourite is “Lonesome Dove”. Modern series like “Peaky Blinders” are good. Good and long.

I was operated on Monday the 23rd. I came home the 24th with my right foot in a big cast. Early days I was in acute pain, not able to move too well. The pain was pervasive. Sleep allusive. I could find some relief in sitting with my foot raised high above my heart. I have a knee-scooter that allows me to get up and move, pretty much on my own, around the house. but the combination of pain and opioids left me unstable, weak, inept.

I ceased all prescribed drugs on the 26th. I found that THC-oil allowed me to sleep through the night. Thats was good enough. A rough night made for a bad day, so I induced sleep with THC, not opioids. I kept my foot high and moved very little, drank little, ate little. Slept a lot. My big old house works well for convalescing. We know healing takes time. A positive environment promotes healing. I am a lucky guy…

So, 14days-in… All has gone well, been comfortable and copacetic because of my big family. Everything I need, everything I do is managed by my family. Going to the bathroom, having a shower, eating and drinking… anything requiring assistance, which is pretty much everything, required assistance.

I am fortunate that I have the required back-up to be able to take several weeks off from my life, to allow my broken body to be repaired and healed. For the bones to re-fuse, the incisions to close, my balance and control to return. Theory is I should be ‘good as new” when this is all done.

I do believe that the traditional family is a huge positive in life. From birth, into growth, and off toward old-age and death, The Traditional Family is a Positive. Something I fear we may have forgotten, just a little bit…

Thats all the words, all the focus my still-addled brain has.

Did I mention that 2days post-op my #1Breeder, Nia, dropped a litter of pups…

Pups are good. Family is good. Life is good…

More later

Sunday here. I am one week post ankle surgery. Being on-the-mend is a tough job. Its a long-ish tale…

One week ago at 6am I walked into the admissions ward of the Sunshine Coast University Hospital. Six hours later I “came-to” with my right ankle in a big cast. The surgery took 90minutes and, as my Saw-Bones said, “was a very satisfying procedure”…

A large tear in one tendon, and a bone-fragment hanging from another, were the main order of business. Plus an “osteotomy” (bone sawing) of my heel bone to realign it. The Saw-Bones was pleased with the works completed and told me to go home and recover.

“Recovery” is an interesting concept. Basically, to gain back, to reclaim, to once again be where you once were… Recover… an interesting word.

Considering that I have been managing my injured right ankle since 2021/22, I suggest we have a long road to “recovery”.

One of my old ankle injury tales: https://nativeiowan.com/2022/09/03/2022-v9-leg-up-ruminations/

So, after 24hours or so in the hospital I was sent home to get well, to recover…

7days later, I sit with my leg up, watching blood-sport, drinking coffee, feeling rather pleased… I slept through the entire night, last night. I went to bed at 10pm, woke up at 7am. First true night’s sleep in over a week. Sleep heals. Sleep is good.

The heavy opioids they gave me did a great job of managing the post-op pain, but damn, damn, damn… they sure scrambled the brain cells. I finally came off the drugs on day4. Today is day7 and I’m still groggy. I have not been able to read or write much at all these past few days. My mind has been fogged. My pain has been managed quite well. I cant complain.

I am not a fan of heavy pain killers. I believe that the modern world has made pain a bad thing. I believe that pain is indeed a part of life, existence, being… I do though understand how and why our modern world can be, has been sooo prone to block pain, take pain-killers, sedate or mask physical (and emotional) pain.

A line from an old song comes to mind… “Comfortably Numb” may well be a theme for our modern world?

My mind wanders as I write… I’m watching blood-sport, have 2 and 4 legged pups around me, the sky overcast, the breeze cool.

Daughter, Connie, and her 2kids are here to help in my time of need. Son, Paul, and his family have come to stay in the granny flat. My #1Bitch, Nia, dropped a litter of pups Thursday. My life, household, environment is furry, fun filled, and makes me smile…

Total count, pups on the ground this morn = 3kids, 4grandkids, 4 dawgs, 1x6monthold Pepperdawg, 1xLadyGodzilla + 8live new borns…

I really like the variety of colours herein:

Ive been breeding for years. I have a very good bloodline in my bitches. Have a very good stud. Our “recipe” is proving to be more than just good. The pups we have bred to date are great, amazing, special…

This litter looks even better than the last.

What makes a good pup, a good litter… I breed for intelligence, temperament and longevity. Time is always and all ways the proof. So far, the past pups we have bred are impressive. Even amazing. But then I am biased.

Both 2 and 4 legged pups are trained to be aware, alert, attentive, intelligent. I do enjoy my pups…

And the beat goes on. But I’m not marching along… yet…

More later

Sunday. A blood sport Sunday. And the day before I go in for ankle surgery.

I am not medico-phobic, I simply have not had a lot of need for medical treatment in my life. My wild, off the grid lifestyle through the 80s, 90s, and into the new century did not offer much in the way of medical services. I guess I learned to do without.

Until I started getting old…

Tomorrow I go in for osteotomy of my right calcaneus. That means my heal bone is getting sawed in half and repositioned in the hope that it’ll put things “right”. Make me stand and move properly. As it is my right ankle does not cooperate with me much at all.

My numerous injuries and strains and tears and breaks have all added up to a no-way-out situation.

So I’ll let the saw-bones do his thing. I’ll be knocked out for over an hour. Saw the heal bone, repair some damaged tendons, fix some other plumping issues… I am warned the pain is going to be a big issue.

Ive never been too concerned with pain, noting my body is at least 50% covered with ink. I claim I know a bit about pain and a whole bunch about healing. In my book it’s all about healing. Once again I get to put my money where my mouth is…

Its is the recovery side of things I do not look forward to. It shall be months before I go dancing again. It shall be many weeks before I walk. The post-op regime is one of “no weight bearing for 8 weeks”, which means I shall sit on my arse, and learn to use my crutches.

In 2019 I had my left shoulder replaced. It did hurt, it was uncomfortable and it took the better part of a year for it to really, really heal. Funny though, I didnt use the pain-killers then, and still have those heavy opioids in the medical cabinet. Funny how a life-long user and abuser of pharmaceuticals can get to the point where I dont like “pills”, especially pain killers. Even aspirin, or paracetamol. I have learned in recent years that a good dose of THC oil will put me to sleep. Sleep is the thing required while healing.

Makes me think of a couple people I know who became addicted to opioids post-surgery. One old buddy injured his right arm in a terrible accident. His wrist, elbow, major bones all broken when a horse fell on him. Thats was in the 90s. He went through years of surgery and therapy. And a lot of pain. Relied on opioids and alcohol to survive. For the rest of his life, 30 years or so, he was an addict.

I have created a list of topics I’ll work on as I sit. Hardest part of all this will be the sitting, The inactivity. I’m not good at not being in motion.

Time will tell.

This getting old bullshit aint for sissies… at least that is what my aged Mother used to say.

Some images of the past few weeks…

More later