Monday, May 8, 2017
Re: Building a work shop
Thursday I work in the shop 'till just about sunup. (wait, remember the big eyed mouse now living in the metal file draw?)
Having to relieve my self but the neighbors are waking up. So and having an old 5 gallon bucket, I don't bother going out behind the shop.
I forget to empty the bucket but I am the only one who goes out there to the shop so I don't give it a second thought.
Sunday morning about 3AM, I go out to finish a thing for the forum. Having a hard time with it and kinda dreading machining a part that just keeps coming out bad. (really a bummer) but unlock the door and see the bucket-'o-pee. Go to dump it but inside is the big eyed mouse laying like a dog with his chin on the floor. I nudge the bucket with my foot so he can scurry off in his bull mouse and manly fashion. But he doesn't move. I kick it a little harder. The rodent seems to be dead?
So I look a little closer. He is in the prone position and his nostrils are just above the "water" line. He didn't drown. The bucket was next to a bench that's about 40"s tall. So the fall didn't kill him. He didn't drown as his nose was above.
It had been so long that I had been in the shop, I figured he and the other critters had squatter's rights. So I was bringing them food as a sort of rent/thanks for putting up with the noise and light. But he,"the mouse lept to his death rather than living with me" I kiddingly said to Carol.
Carol replied; "I get that"
Wednesday, January 4, 2017
Canadian woman for their kindness and heartwarming, good nature...
English, Aussie, New Zealand (wut happened to the old Zealand?), Scots, Irish. The accent alone can give a good boy thoughts and make a good dog break his chain.
Eastern European Woman. They love just as hard as they work live and endure. With as much gusto as many a man but look better doing it.
Latina, Mother of good, Latinias! They will make your home, your love life fantastic and happy. Least you forget and lose a body part.
If my very incomplete list could be complete, I would be remiss to not include America, the Beautiful!
Of the 5 (as I humbly see it)
*Ya have the west coast Fun with an air of eccentric.
*South west, Sun soaked, slow talking and quick to understand and give.
*South East, Oh so hospitable in all the most wonderful ways!
*Mid West. So aptly named the bread basket. They will fill your heart and soul with the virtual goodness of fresh baked bread of life.
And my home, the North East. The woman are loving, kind. The decedents of stout, do or die colonists who live, laugh and love with the same resolve.
I do not believe you can exemplify the most beautiful to one group, color, shape or race. At 52% of the population and 90% of the wonderful, it'd be impossible!
Thursday, September 29, 2016
Kinda fascinating. The people, kids and pets. Years back, we had a plumbing biz. I always knew when the check was good by the pets and kids.
Dunno how to esplain this Lusy, but it is the same deal. knock on a door and if the kids and dawg/cat are happy. ya just know it is a happy home.
My cat, at present, is on his back on the bed and the dawg the is splayed on the floor.
Life is good
worst apocalypse ever
Friday, October 21, 2011
Just a note letting you know how much I love ya. I may just be a dog but that is not as easy as it seems. I have to bark at stuff all the time. (really, why can't I eat the mailman?) Let's face it, those squirells have it coming!
back to my point, I so enjoy your kind rubs, hugs and love. Your a very kind and giving woman (kinda amazing for a 2 legger)((human))
I so appreceate the treats you sneak me off your plate. (lets keep that our litle secreate as the other 2 are so fanatical about my diet!)
But mostly, I just love you. I enjoy every day waking up to your kind words and pats on the head. Your what every dog prays for. A good and kind soul.
I Love ya Mrs. Ma.
Yours truly and most sincerly,
PS, I can't sign this. No thumbs."
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
I see his cheek blown off by a bullet. I drop my riffle and snatch him up. The battle rages on behind us as I run with him on my shoulder. He keeps screaming; “take me home” I run for all I am worth. I get hit in the side. I keep running. He yells,”take me home” I have known him from boot camp. He has no home. He was ordered to join or go to jail. No parents. No home. I run. He is heavy. I run. We make it to a rocky clearing. My boots slip and slid but still I run. The fire fight goes on behind us. I run. He yells; “take me home” I fall. My side is open. I reach down and find my own blood and gore. He whispers; “take me home” Only then do I realize, he wasn't talking to me.