The Native Iowan

8am on a lunevly, wet, overcast Sunday, Morosa Valley is sublime. Sat up and watched election results last night…

but first: Had a very, very cool experience yesterday… the miracle of life happened right outside the house.

I’d gone off to watch Mendoza play soccer in the morn, then brought him home for good feed. (he ate 2 Tbone steaks last even and 2 more for breakfast)

When we arrived home, Mamma#110 had dropped a pretty lil heifer baby.

The baby had been breathing air for only a short while when we go home. Mamma110 is a very experienced mother. She knows me well enough not be rattled by my watching. I stood and watched the full show… first steps, first suckle, first time getting trod on by Mamma… very cool, the miracle of life.

OH, did I mention that election-day for the land of Aus was yesterday?

The Progressive-Left agenda as led by the Labour party was touted to win by a land slide. They are preaching green everything, throwing all n everything into the renewables basket, planning huge tax-grabbing policies aimed at anyone who has saved a dime in their life, offering a lot of free stuff,  and higher wages.

They lost.

Not by a landslide, but decisively. The conservatives down here, The Liberal Party, appear to have won enough seats to form a government. The Greens and the ultra progressive, One Nation Party, lost seats if not lost the plot.

The Progressive-Left agenda has been rejected. The message is clear… screw this “spend too much on renewables” BS, build coal fired power plants instead of selling Aussie coal off shore, stop attacking workers’ savings and pensions, let folks who have made and saved a buck keep it.

I think it’s a sign of the times where this Progressive agenda that has bene percolating through society gets doused with a layer of commons sense.

More later

I remember vividly moving from rural Iowa, heading off to the new world of being a Peace Corps Volunteer. Moving from the solid, flat old-country to the steamy, rugged and dark islands of Melanesia.

I think I learned a lot about islands very quickly. Quickly for a flat-lander, that is. I learned that some beaches are golden sugary-fine coral sand, while others are black coarse volcanic sand. Some islands have surface water (rivers, stream, lakes), while other have no visible water sources.

I remembered Gilligan’s Island was a “desert-island”, so some of the stuff I learned made sense and some did not.

It took me a long time to figure out that wells in coastal areas would have “sweet-water” in the top layer of the well, and brackish or “sour-water” in the lower levels. The deeper you went the more brackish or sour the water became.

Now I am no scientist but I am an engineer. And a farmer! I think of myself as a quite astute “problem-solver”.

I remember the communal well at Siota PSS, on the Island of Small Nggela…

The school is still there:

Now, in the major scheme of things Small Nggela is a small island. But it is a “big” island when it comes to islands and it has a lot of surface water. Big rivers, small streams, plenty of water.

But the school is in a weather shadow. The eastern side of the island got the weather, was the “weather-coast” of this island. Siota, though wet by many standards, did not have running water in close proximity.

One very important lesson I learned at Siota was how to manage freshwater resources.

The school satisfied its freshwater needs through a combination of water catchment and wells. When it rained it rained! Tanks would overflow, everyone had water when the rains came. The “kink” here was that the area went through frequent dry spells. A dry spell could be anything from a few days to weeks.

The facts about water catchment are simple: 1mm of rain on a square meter of roof space equals 1 litre of water. A 10mx10m square roof thus produces 100 litres for every 1mm of rainfall. Even though it rains a lot, your storage is what counts. You need to store the water and storage capacity is limited to the size of the tank(s) you have. The more you can store the longer the dry spell you can endure.

It’s easy for a person to need/ use 100litres of water a day for cooking, cleaning, personal use. Siota had about 300 students and staff living on site. That puts Siota’s daily water needs were around the 30,000 litre per.

Siota had nowhere near 30k litres of water storage capacity.

Once the rain ceased people had to stop using their rain tanks gratuitously. Water caught and stored in the tanks was reserved for cooking/ drinking. The wells were used for bathing and laundry.

The well I used, the men’s well, was by the HeadMaster’s house at the east side of the school. It was over 100meters from the sea-side. Of simple construction, three, 2meter, concrete culverts had been dug into the ground. The bottom was open, sandy. A nice concrete apron had been laid around the well. We used a plastic bucket with a bit of rope to draw water. You’d toss the bucket in the well, shake n pull the rope until the bucket started filling, then haul out your bath or laundry water. I learned quickly that the deeper you let your bucket sink the more brackish the water. It was a trick to be able to get a full bucket of fresh water.

I found that in times when the well was “high” there was a nice thick layer of freshwater. You did not have to worry about the bucket sinking too deep and filling up with sourwater.

I found that as the water level in the well dropped the freshwater levels decreased, but the sourwater levels remained fairly constant.

This puzzled me. I slowly worked it out…

Different from what I thought first-off, seawater and underground water aren’t isolated systems. The well isn’t filled up by rain water, like a rain gauge. The freshwater in the well is part of the freshwater aquifer. Below the freshwater aquifer was the seawater. The seawater and the freshwater are actually in the same well at the same time. The freshwater floated on top the saltwater.

Rocks, soil, sand, “the ground” is more or less porous. Water can move through (albeit slowly) so the rains supply the overall aquifer. Freshwater, being lighter than saltwater, floats on top of the saltwater. When the freshwater aquifer or “lens” is well supplied, the wells were fuller and the freshwater layer in the well was thicker. As the dry spells lasted the freshwater lens for the entire island shrunk as was evidenced in the well.

I moved from Siota to Taro Island in Choiseul Bay. Taro is a much, much smaller island. Its wells were shallower and more prone to brackishness. We relied on our water tanks heavily and were in strict control of how much freshwater was used.

Much later in life I spent time bouncing around the Vona Vona lagoon. One island I canoed past regularly, on my way to Zipolo Habu, had quite a big population, numerous houses, possibly upwards to a couple hundred people, men women and kids.

It was a “small” island, maybe 300meters long and 50 meters wide. It had large trees and one could see gardens as you canoed past.

Then one trip I saw that everyone had moved away. I didn’t travel that area often so I don’t think this all happened quickly, within 12 months or so the island went from being pretty well populated to being depopulated. I noticed the greenery on the island was gone. Except for the magroves…

Its May and its been way too long since I got into any prose. Not sure if I have been busy or distracted. They are close to being the same but are not. Busy is positive, Distracted, less so.

My mother turned 92 on Wednesday May 1. Let me see if I can find some pictures of my Mom… She is a very impressive individual.

Hapi 92nd and see you next year for 93…

I’m sitting indoor, watching a b-grade movie. I love shootemups. Sexy babes dodging bullets. Long, elaborate fights that are choreographed very well.

But it all makes me think of the very recent bluez/newz I’ve heard and watched. The intrigue and espionage and guns and cars and bombs… makes me think of politics…

I’m watching/ listening…

As Solomon Islands has just completed a National Election.

As the major parties here in Australia prepare for National Elections.

As the USofA runs through its never-ending cycles of elections.

Can any one blame me for being in a state of Politico-overload?

Some of the stupidest shit gets said and done at election-time.

Thankfully elections are only, ONLY, every 4 years in the Solos. More frequent in Aus. Infuckingcessant in the USofA.

But some really dumb-ass shit gets said during elections.

What bamboozlz me is the fact that the average bear in the electorate eats this bullshit for breakfast, lunch and supper. It’s been stupid for ages, now it’s getting down right fucking stupid. N

There is plenty of newz, but very little news. Words are spun and respun. Facts as purveyed are not facts but opinions. And opinions are just, JUST fucking opinions… Not NEWS.

Dont matter who it be or where it be. An opinion is nothing but an opinion. It is not fact or law or even fucking important at all. Unless we make it important. Something that is done all the time. Way too often.

The hypocrisy is becoming way too sickening. From Hugs to rapes, to innuendo, to blackface, then white-face, and even loss of face.

I’m thinking of Jussie Smollett.

Now explain to me…

The entire Democratic wann-be mass of would-bes just got up and kowtowed to The Very Reverend Al Sharpton. The Rev lined up all the wouldbe wannbe and hasbeen “candidates” and made them pay homage to him and his pedestal. His pulpit…. https://www.usnews.com/news/the-run/articles/2019-04-02/2020-democrats-flock-to-al-sharptons-national-action-network-to-address-race-gap

Now I got no issues with the left going a few steps further left. The pendulum do swing.  But, here is the hypocrisy, Rev Al is racist through and through. He has made his career by being a racist and a race-baiter. I’m just calling it as I see it. And I do believe there is more than enough evidence to conclude that the RevAl an’t a hippy.

What would happen, I ask, if the republican candidate(s) were to share a stage with David Duke?

Why of course there would be outrage. Indignation. Any one wanting to be lePresidente of the USofA can’t share a stage with a self-confessed racist…

Can they?

Here in Aus there is a very timely generous-hearted attitude being shown by the elected politicos. Cash-payments for power costs I belive has been actioned by the current Gov. The costly green policies inflicted on the electorate here over recent years has resulted in very high power bills. So everyone gets $75.00 if you vote for me.

There are continued promises about higher minimum wage (its $17.50ph now), and easier and even paid education, and more medical and bigger n better infrastructure.

One party here has decided that within 12 years the roads will be for electrified cars only. No more dirty fuels on our highways. All new vehicles electric by 2030.

That’s like a damn tunnel with a superfast electrified train from LA to Hawaii. That’s like a bridge from NewYork to Paris.

Some things just don’t make viable sense. Like with the electric cars in Aus… the power required to charge all the new vehicles will be hydrocarbon fueled. So we burn more hydrocarbon to produce more power for e-cars, for a net gain to the hydrocarbon footprint. Nothing is decreased, saved, nor gained. Woulda been better off with out the change.

But the sky is falling. If we do not do something within 12 years the POX shall be upon us.

In the Solomons politicians are still pure… they just get votes be hiring people to vote for them…

https://www.solomonstarnews.com/index.php/news/national/item/21484-ships-warned-against-overloading

And the beat goez on…

2nd day of the month.

I’m sitting outside. As I type a light drizzle starts. Not sure if I run inside or….

There is so much to discuss. The drizzle is still drizzling but I haven’t moved.

Now I have to move. Shifted into the shed. Soft “oldies” play on the local FM station, the wind is fresh and crisp. The Big-Dog is still outside.

There is so much disagreement, so much divergence of views, so much conflicting of moralities. So much illogical acting, all over, everywhere, no reservations.

But little reconciliation.

It’s OK to disagree, to have divergent views you wish to practice, to lean heavily on your personal morality. But these days the ability to reconcile appears lost.

Interracial marriage is a decent example. It don’t even raise an eye brow any more. Same sex marriage, transgenderism… so many good modern examples.

And all represent reconciliation within our societies/ families/ cultures.

Where has all the reconciliation gone?

It’s late Monday in the USofA newzcycle.

As I sit an absorb the various newz/ opinions on-air, I can only think, feel that the “behind-the-scenes” operators, the puppet masters of the sociopolitical tragic-comedy that is the USofA, can only be shivering in their boots, looking over their shoulders, seeking some dark hole to crawl into.

I feel that Trump has beyond a doubt proven himself as a disruptor of the system, as an enemy of the deep dark DC swamp. I can’t really like or support Trump but I sure as shit am thankful he has stood up to the deepdarkdodgeypolicalswamp. I am hapi the status quo has been so powerfully challenged.

And now the main stream swamp monsters are melting down.

I recall a little reported event that saw Hillary basically admit her nefarious history… here’s the link: https://www.facebook.com/FallonTonight/posts/hillary-has-massive-meltdown-this-could-be-hugehillary-is-afraid-of-the-gallows-/10211510352662891/

What Hillary basically said was … 

Referring to Donald Trump, Clinton said:
“If that fucking bastard wins, we all hang from nooses!”

And she was right. And the time may well be at hand.

Sadly, very sadly indeed; a huge cross-section of intelligent and well-meaning people some how, someway got drawn into the farce. Like The King With no Clothes, many decided to take the “party line”, so sing in tune, to moo like  bovine being led to slaughter.

Many have spent two years agreeing how terrible and nasty and criminal and despicable Trump and Trump supporters are. Many have been reveling in the legal actions and the investigations and the fake news reports … Proof Of Collusion… Treasonous Activity… Foreign Agents…

Where are we now?

For me I say its time for the shoe to go on the other foot. I feel quite secure in believing that the Democratic Party, as led by Barak Obama, weaponised the institutions of the USG to support the liberal-left agenda and to harass and distract any and all opposition.

Now, if anyone who reads this thinks I am wrong or exaggerating I suggest you do some reading. Honestly research the use of the IRS to investigate Conservative organizations, the use of the DOJ and FBI and DNC to corrupt and bend the rules tip the scales… from exonerating Hillary to shafting Bernie to piling dirt on Trump.

If your head is so far in a hole… I can’t help you.

And the beat goez on.

Interesting times to be alive, me thinks…

More later

It’s Monday morning here. Sunday eve in the USofA. I sit and watch the late-day newz programmes as the day outside heats up. Weather here has been hot, hot, humid n hot. Temps have been 30-35c/ 87-95f. The sun has been a scorcher. It has been difficult to get much done outside.

As well, I am in “waiting mode” per some business deals so get to sit and watch and wait. Once I hear that my ever friendly legal advisors are happy I’ll go off and sign a contract. All has to do with developing some land I own here. I’m a small-fry in a deep-sea of land developers.

So I sit in the air-conditioned cool of the house. A granny-afgan wrapped around my shoulders. A cup of fresh, black coffee at hand. Political mania spewing from the TV.

I’m surfing channels watching the end-weekend newz cycle. This Mueller report has been sent to the AG. The “probe” is complete. Or was it an “investigation”? At a cost of <$25,000,000.00. It sure as shit should be an end-all, be-all.

But it won’t be. It can’t be.

Sadly the result, the end report does not match the needs of the LEFT. Our friendly neighborhood liberal left has vested too much into this “result”. And anything less than a call to drawandquarter is insufficient.

As a self-professed Centrist, I do not, cannot sing the praises or “get behind” any single political creature. Trump, Obama, The Bushes, The Clintons, The Kennedys, The Left, The Right… all are flawed. As are The Pelosis, and Schumers, and Grassleys, and Kings, and, Crotezes, and Omars et al. By nature, any and all political venues – in my opinion are corrupted. Very quickly, the fact that a guy like Schumer or Grassley, or A gal like Pelosi can sit as a politically elected official for 40 years or more, is evidence enough of personal interest/ corruption. Once in the primary objective is to stay in. Not to be a wise representative nor legislate effectively. The aim, once in, is to stay in. Period.

Just heard something very stupid… Congressman Ro Khanna (D CA) stated something to the tune of… “we need to stay competitive with CHina in Green technology… China is investing heavily…” !!! WTF? China is building coal-fired power plants at a rate of knots. Quick check…

The stupidity and ignorance of these people really irks me. Sorry for the tangent.

So the Left is pounding the table, demanding more and bigger and better and more expensive and more invasive and more, well we want a result that we want. This result, this report, this investigation does not suit the narrative so we will cry and complain and demand until we change the facts to suit our needs.

Sound familiar? The facts don’t suit the narrative soe we change the facts. SOP (standard operative procedure) as far as I can see.

Now, allow me to express a bit of confusion in all of this… The investigation was aimed at determining Russian involvement in the 2016 election. The base charge was that Trump/ his political machine colluded with a foreign state to influence the election. The people who fell under the investigative-ax were felled for past sins of omission and foolishness. Flynn and Manafort and Gates and Cohen all got-done for past crimes. Not crimes associated with the 2016 election nor the stated mandate of the investigation.

It’s all a waste. It’s all a magic show. It is all prestidigitization.

More later

You cant. Or at least I can’t. I can’t tell when I am getting old. It might be an impairment…

Or, maybe, the title of this should be “more ol fart fun n games”…

It started in earnest on Wednesday morning. The foolishness did. Of course all foolish expeditions have many mothers and many births and conceptions. This one started when I thought Gracie should start riding bikes with me. Now this goes back ages. I’ve bought nice comfy bigarsed bikes and thought Gracie would ride. I was wrong.

Why should Gracie ride? I hear some ask…

Shit! For the same reason we all should ride!

Riding makes you smarter, faster, friendlier, happier and you sleep better after a long day of riding. trial and tribulation is good for your character. Pain and discomfort makes you appreciate your own bed.

Riding is good for you.

All exposed, the fragile form “out-there”,  at high speeds as monster vehicles roar with you along the big bad by-way. When you are on the road on a bike the odds aint in your favour. And I like that a lot.

Whats not to like?

Dancing on the razor’s edge….

So the foolishness included an early morning flight to Sydney. There was a plan… We are going to collect Gracie’s new machine. Fly in, grab the machine, spend the night in the city, then ride north early the next morn.

We got booked-in the hotel by about 1, and by 330pm I had a 2019 Ural ready to ride home… What, I hear you ask, is a 2019 Ural… Well, it’s not a motorcycle, it’s not a trike, it’s a Ural…

Above is Gracie’s 2019 Ural. For fun and laughs have a look at… https://www.imz-ural.com/

Urals have a colourful history. Well worth checking out… Here’s a tale that comes from my old buddy DB : Ural History v.1 – 14 Mar 19

So the reason to buy a Ural was to get Gracie riding. For better or for worse. Everyone in our tribe rides. We take off on breakfast rides regularly… up early, ride a couple of hours through gorgeous country, stop at some funky n fun place, then go back home.

It’s nice. We like bikes. I am prone to long, long rides. Days, even weeks on the road. I do enjoy it.

And I thought it would only be fitting for Grace to start her career as a biker on a decently long 1100km/700mile ride. I kinda jumped in the deep end, again, and found myself, with Gracie, on what I affectionately call “the death march”.

So we fly to Sydney, and have lunch. Sydney is a good place. Lots of choices, food, entertainment, people watching. SYD is a good place.

After lunch I run around and sort the machine out. We bought it from the guys at Gasoline Motor Co… https://www.gasoline.com.au/

Soooo… Up early Tuesday… the adventure begins… Don’t she look sooooo damn delighted?

We took off -IN THE DARK – in the rain – in the city- . ANY ONE OF THE THREE VARIABLE ADDS DIFFICULTY. Huge difficulty. Thanks goodness for my heads-up display GPS. I got out of the city with only a few reroutes. It as tough.

It was a tough, tough ride… the dark, the city, the rain. We ran about 2.5 hours and took a break. Grace looks happy. I don’t think she understood how dicey it was.The Ural is a very good mule, if a slow n sluggish machine.

So from 530am to 130pm we run as far and as fast as we can. The Ural is a wrestling match. The front wheel is always being tweeked by the vibration of the side car. I did not get to relax as I rode. Both hands on the bars applying input constantly. Hit a bump and the steering shoots left. A severely cambered road means full pressure left. My traps are still stiff n sore as if after a long session in the gym.

So by 130 Wednesday we’d had enough. Over half way home and soaking, and I mean soaking wet. My boots were full of water.

It sure is nice to STOP. I say bikes n tattoos and beating your hand with a hammer are all very similar… feels great when you stop.

At one point we both could smell burning rubber. I stopped and inspected the brakes… only to find the heel of my boot had been resting on the exhaust…

Burnt a perfect arch in my heel.

So the steed sorted and stabled for the night in Coffs Harbour. Looks good. Gets heaps of attention.

Grace thinks we need more shots together… I’m not a selfie-dude so tried to get away with this one…

Dont I look hapi?

Once we stopped and got settled I tossed my clothes in the dryer and put my boots out in the sun. Sorted the machine out and got ready to go find a meal.

We wandered around a bit. Grace was a bit unwilling to walk too much. I headed toward a burger place but when we got there its didn’t look too inviting so we wandered down and alley way and walked up as a younger Asian dude was opening his place up for the evening trade. It was a great stroke of luck…

If ever in Coffs, check out the gang at CreAsian… http://creasian.com.au/  It’s a friendly, inviting and fun venue with really good food.

I know that many of my faithful readers have experienced the “hot n sour” soup that the old Sea King in Honiara always offered. Remember the spicy sour mess of thick, rich soup? I always had a vsion of big caulron of bubbling hot n sour, never ending, always on, always tasting the same, sooo goood… World wide I have a habit of trying to recreate that memory and I always fail. All hot n sours I have ordered in my travels pale to that which the Sea King family offered.

Not here. it was great. It was memory filled. I will soon do a ride south just to have another serve. CreAsian will become one of my new favourite rides.

As I rode and got soaked my red leather riding gloves stained my hands…

So Thursday morn we get sun, we get warmth, we get dry roads…

Gracie is taking to being a biker-babe well…

And, as Uncle Willis do say… biker-babes are the foxy-est…

So we get home. Unpack the mule and relax…

And life is good… but I’m still beat n recovering from the road… and cant wait for the next long-ride.

More later

Is it newz or bluez…

I, as a card-carrying member of the white ol fart brigade can no longer be cool, be masculine, be me…

SO I am being told…

I have been an avid martial artist all my life. Have damaged my body through lifting weights, hard work, adventure and misadventure. I trained the very succesful Solomons Olympic Wrestling Team for a couple of decades. brought home numerous medals and had two team members carry The Olympic Torch when it came through Solomons. It was an all male team.

I’ve raised nine kids, buried two, educated literally hundreds, have been the boogeyman and the best friend to so many young humans. Change the young’ns, bathe them, teach them to ride 2wheelz and to shoot. I’m into my 2nd generation of progeny. My eldest grandkid is in her 20s. And can punch as well as any guy. My daughter is a boxer. And a lawyer… kinda works,eh?

Hundreds of humans claim me as a relative. I am the 5th of nine born children and my 93-year-old mother claims in excess of 100 offspring. Most, not all, know who “Mike” is. I’m known to be fun, unbending, loud, rambunctious, and MALE. And I drink too much too often.

I shoot guns, ride motorcycles, race cars, fly airplanes, have many dogs (no cats) and am seldom refused entry at any home, hospice or domicile.

But I am toxic.

So I am told.

My wife of 30plus years kinda agrees.

But still shares my bed.

What is this looney-tunes world coming to when a bloke can’t be a bloke?

Think I’ll git my dawg n take my pickup out to do sum shootn…

Smiles

First day of the first month of 2019.

It’s a warm, sunny day here. 430pm. The day will commence its decent soon. The sun shall start sinking below the ridges and the shade shall come and the temps will drop and the insect will arrive and it’ll soon be night.

Last eve I cut a deal with my teenaged grandsons… They cooperate and I’d be their taxi for New Years Eve down at the regional hot-spot, Mooloolaba.

https://www.sunshinecoastpoint.com.au/events/mooloolaba-new-years-eve/

We live is a pretty groovy place. https://www.sunshinecoast-australia.com/sunshine-coast-tourist-map.html

So I dropped the boys off about 5pm at the beach. Angelo, Mendoza with Wade (Lale Makini’s son) got to go and bee-cool for NY’s eve.

The beach is a very cool local fun place and this year they offered live music, a fireworks show at 830 and another at 12 midnight. All in a safe, well policed and controlled environment.

So I took the boys in to town and came home to a nice pot of healthy leftovers. The rest of the family all took the little kids to the early fireworks show. I got a nice quiet house for a number of hours.

The last couple days – the last few days of 2018 have been hectic. We planned “Our Party” for Saturday the 29th. The prep and the execution of it all was a big effort. We cooked about a half-hundred-pound of beast. Fed about 50 people. I personally drank about 8-gallons of grog. Didnt get to bed until 2am. Then woke in the morn to a house filled with guests and the need for provisions and interaction. So Saturday was huge and Sunday was big, but very slow.

Sunday we cooked left overs and watched UFC and hung in the pool. Then came Monday, and NY’s eve…

The teens had a good time. Were cool. I picked them up at 2am. They’d been on the beach and in the ocean. They came home with a big bag of takeaway chickennchips. It smelled real good. They ate n went to bed.

Grace complained about the sand in the beds and their clothes this morn.

Some picts from the bbq…

I am rather proud of the bbq-pit I put together with leftover bits n pieces…

My idea was to fire-sear the beast then slow cook it in foil…

I used an old fire-chimney to burn up some real nice red-gum. 

Rubbed n marinated the beast that came from our farm…

So nice homegrown beast started on an open fire… Seared and sealed and flavoured by flame…

All up we cooked 2 large racks of rib and 4 good-sized rump-roasts… The trays on top are pumpkin and roasted potatoes…

The racks of rib were impressive, but hard to cook… Too big to manage easily so I contented myself with getting burnt regularly as I turned them.Charred on the outside but very juicy inside…

The day was sunny and bright. Our back yard is great but by default the bbq-pit was in the sun so I cooked and sweated a lot.

I stayed on water and cokes up until I got the meat ready to serve at about 3pm… And I must say I nailed it… A perfectly bbq’d beast roast…

The rib-racks could not have been better…We prepared 200 one-bite skewers…When it was time to eat no one held back…

So we started at 3pm and by 5pm there was not a scrap of meat left. 25kgs of beast cooked, and consumed…

So today is slow. We all slept in. I got the boys up about 10am and we mowed and cleaned and tidied up. Tomorrow we go back to the farm.

And life is good.

Welcome to 2019.

More later…

Ahhhh, breath in, breath out, listen to the tinkling wind-chime, the children next door playing, the wind, the radio in the shed…

Fauna is not very vocal. A bit late in the day for the busy-birds. A bit early for the nocturnals.

I find myself thinking of one of my moost favourite words… prestidigitization. (it appears to have 2 spellings)

The easiest definition I know is – sleight of hand – but the best definition I have found to date is : prestidigitization is a transmutation cantrip available to bards, sorcerers, warlocks, and wizards. …

I think “cantrip” may become another favourite word.

The wind-chime I speak of  is an old, cheap affair. A onceuponatime green frog with a big smile is the wind-weight. A larger frog is part of the decorative assembly above the 5 small stainless tubes. I’ve had Mr. Frog for some 9 years. In two homes now. All the wood is weathered and paint peeled. The string has all been replaced with fishing-strength line and swivels. It’s no longer very attractive, but something that makes me smile daily. It tinkles merrily.

I made a fatal mistake today.

I discussed politics with my partner in crime for 35 years…

Above is a pict of Gracie on the farm. I am oft amazed by the fact that after all these years we are still kicking-ass together. Its been a long, long, groovy trip. We do get along well. And no doubt there is much yet to come…

And one of the reasons for our domestic longevity is that we don’t discuss religion, politics, or other problem-prone topics. We have family to share and our reasonably active lives, both singular and mutual, and travels to keep us occupied, to discuss and dissect.

I ride motorcycles, she visits the Holy Land. I go spend time on the water in the Solomons and she visits The Cook Islands. We recently traveled together to the US, then to Europe and onto Japan. I think a six-week trip with time in California, Iowa, UK, France, Switzerland, Italy, then Japan. The UK to Japan was by road + a long Bologne to Osaka flight. 3000 miles in 9 days. It was pretty tough, very cool and we both enjoyed the shit outta it.

But we didn’t talk politics. We got along real, real well. Had fun, enjoyed each others’ company. It was all groovy.

Because we stayed away from those problem-prone topics.

Today it was “The Wall”.

Upon being drawn into to listening I chose to comment such… “If you are talking about the “WALL” you are talking about the topic “THEY” want you to talk about.

Yes, that dark and sinister and inarticulate “THEY”.

Look over here. Talk and complain about this…

Prestidigitation, sleight of hand, uses age-old methods to distract ones attention from what is really happening. As I slip the rabbit out of my pocket you are looking at my hand with the red silk ‘kerchief.

As I have traveled and aged I spend more time watching than participating. It’s a bane or a gift of age. Make it what you wish. But as I sit longer; no longer labouring daily for my bread, no longer chasing the dollar, I have more time to be attentful to that which surrounds.

I belive I have always and all ways been “aware”. But in my “me decade” I am gaining knowledge, working and doing mainly for me. Doing what I want and what interests me.

I’m still developing this concept but I look back and see I have experienced a succession of decade-long apprenticeships. In the 60s I was a kid. I learned to work and communicate and participate. Basically stand in line without shitting in my pants. In the 70s I was a teen who worked and “did things” for pay, and learned a lot about a lot. Carpenter, mechanical work, farm work, excavation, concrete… I worked in many mediums. In the 80s I took off from the land of my birth and became a true “Journeyman”. No longer the apprentice I went out and parlayed the skills I had developed for my daily bread. I also started  family. The 90s were my nest-building days. I’d completed my Journeyman time but was far from a master of any kind so I built. I built for me, I built for others. I built a home, a business, a family, a life. I sold my skills. I learned new skills. Times were changing. The new century, 2000, brought a lot of change to my life… including civil war, financial stress and huge opportunity. I went from a 250k overdraft to a 10 million dollar bank debt. It was a risk filled heady world of hard work and hard play and huge rewards. By 2010 I was leaving it all. I needed to spend time figuring out who I was. I wanted a change and needed to figure our who I was if I wasn’t “that guy”.

When you retire you oft struggle with identity. If I am not “that guy”, who defuckamI?

2018 turns into 2019. 2020 on the horizon. Another decade.

I am now in my “me decade”. I have a pretty good idea who I am. I like who I am. I accept who I am… an old arthritic kid who groans and moans but still plays and has interests plethora.

Wait a minute… where are we… Why does this all get raised whilst discoursing on the price of eggs in china, you may ask? Why go off in this self-indulgent tangent…

I started this by confessing I transgressed today and got into a political discussion with Gracie.  To explain my transgression I must explain where and who I am these days… I am less and less prone to sit back and let folks spew drivel. Drivel, unformed opinion, repeated fallacy…  Fresh from CNN or Fox or – lord forbid MSNBC…

I learned about Bull-Shit when I was quite young. I learned to recognise it very early on…

I have written about being confused when young, after diligently paying attention to a matter, or trying to understand what is what I’d be met with impotent anger. I may have been slow, asked too many questions.

Ask enough questions and talk too much and you end up getting your nose broke. I know, my first nose break was after talking Father Lawrence into a rage…

I was maybe 9, reading the bible as home work, the story of Lazarus. Fr had stated we needed to take the bible literally. If we delved too deep or asked too many questions we’d miss the point. He was stressing that we had to believe in “miracles”. Take them as written.

I’d read somewhere that “Moses tied his ass to a tree”. I asked Fr Lawrence if that was a miracle too. I got my nose broke for my efforts.

So, after taking the bait offered by Gracie, I found myself looking for a backdoor. How to explain that

“The Wall” is a symbol.

What if we call it a fence? Or a barrier? Or a deterrent?

What if we call it “border security”.

I do get confused at times.

The second time I had my nose broke was by my sister. I was maybe 13 and she was 8.

My sisters are all tough gals. But thats all another story…

More later.

Big smiles…