Memorial Day

We throw the word "hero" around a lot. Too often, really. Movie actors who have never done anything but recite words written by someone else, showing expressions in closeups, as told by a director. We have ball players who, were it not for some freakish gift of nature, plus a willingness to work, with personal habits that would otherwise earn them an orange jumpsuit. Today, though, we honor the real heroes.

The heroes were ordinary men and women who, in a moment of extraordinary stress and danger, reached down deep inside and found a little something extra. Men and women of the United States of America have been doing this since before we were a nation. There is much nonsense about the decline of America bandied about. This decline is not found in our Armed Services.

I only pray that the sacrifices of our young men and women are not thrown away by our political class. Some 58,000 of my brothers and a few of my sisters had their lives thrown away by our politicians, after we won that war. Today the political class is doing the best they can to repeat the process.

Loaded For Bear, The .348 Winchester

It was the last of Winchester's heavy American Game lever guns, the Winchester Model 71 in .348 Winchester. Not quite up to Africa's biggest game, the .348 was for America's big critters, the Moose, the Elk, the Grizzly Bear and Alaskan Brown Bear. When loaded with it's heaviest bullets at full charge the saying went: "Kills on one end, wounds on the other." The checkered steel buttplate did not help there. It's very rare to see a 71 with the original steel buttplate.

I first fired one of those when I was a boy weighing about 120 pounds. Firing from the prone position the recoil lifted both elbows off the ground and I dropped back hard enough to bruise and skin both of them. My Mama gave me a little grief for the bloodstains on my shirt, if I recall. I finished shooting from kneeling and offhand where my body could rock back with the recoil, it wasn't so painful that way.

Those were the Winchester 200 grain loads, or handloaded equivalents. If those had been the 250 grain bear loads I probably would have taken up astronomy for a hobby instead of shooting. Maybe needlework or knitting.

The 71 Winchester was the last modification of John Browning's famous 1886 Winchester rifle. By 1936 when the '71 was developed, the 1886 was too expensive to manufacture as well as being pretty well non competitive with other hunting rifles due to weight and the difficulty in putting those newfangled telescopic sights on board. The tube magazine prevented using the sharp pointed spitzer bullets, too.

Few hunters used the old big bore cartridges by then, like the .45-70, .45-90 and .50-110 anymore, except in Alaska, Canada and the Grizzly country of the American western mountains. The only '86 Winchester Cartridge suitable for the lighter deer of the rest of the country was the .33 Winchester but it was considered a little light for the great bears.

So the internal changes in the 71, combined with the better steels available from the 1900 nickel steel of the smokeless era 1886 Winchesters brought us the 71. The stronger rifle needed a stronger cartridge so they took the old .50-110 black powder case and necked it down to .348. They first loaded it with 150 grain bullets for deer and 200 grain bullets for bigger game. This, with the improved stock by Colonel Townsend Whelan kept the rifle manageable, at least to men weighing more than 120 pounds! Of course, few ever shot that rifle much from prone, anyhow.

A couple other of the mid-century giants of shooting had much to do with the rifle and cartridge, Phil Sharpe and Elmer Keith.

This rifle has not been made since the 1950s, except for a short run made by the Miroku people in Japan. This was for the Browning line. Most, though, are still in use by men in Alaska and Canada's bear country and a few folks still hunting the dark woods for moose.

There isn't much factory ammo left for the .348, Winchester loads a 200 grain Silvertip, Buffalo Bore loads a 250 grain load that is just the thing for someone in the great bear country. Although at $83.00 for a box of twenty I'd have to think long and hard if it wouldn't be a little cheaper to let the bear chew on me a while.

The only mass produced component bullet around is the Hornady 200 grain flat point. Barnes makes a 220 and 250 grain and there is a company in Alaska, the Alaska Bullet Works I believe, that makes a 250 grain bullet reputed to be a dandy for the big bears. Hawk Bullets also makes a 250 grain.

There have been several attempts to blow out the .348 to make it a bit more powerful, although I don't know why.Parker Ackley's .348 Improved being the most famous. Trouble is that the .348 is already powerful enough for it's intended purpose, plus the "improved" cartridge is a bit more fussy in making the trip between the magazine tube and the chamber. Me? I'd rather have the sure feeding of the parent round than the extra 100-150 feet per second, if, of course I decided that I'd rather shoot the four dollar+ cartridge than let the bear chew on me.

There were not that many 71 Winchesters made, it started, of course atthe very end of the lever action era, in thend of the great depression. Then, of course, the war came along, Winchester quit making guns for the civilian market. then, in late 1945 when civilian stuff came back online many, perhaps most, of the skilled craftsmen who made these fine rifles did not come back to Winchester. Winchester discontinued this fine rifle in 1958 and I never got to own one.

*Photo of rifle shamelessly stolen from Paco Kelly's essential site, Leverguns. If my blog-fu were better I would have a proper linkage. I'm pretty sure they'll forgive me, I was a rifleman, not an electronicalwockel expert.

Stupid Dog!

Well I got all psyched up to put Ming out of her misery and then she got a little use out of her back legs again and quit crying. She can now lay comfortably in her doggie bed and sleep with her Mama. So, she has a reprieve, for how long I don't know but as long as she is fairly comfortable, she lives.

I reckon the good and kind thoughts of you readers helped, thanks.

In other news we still have a semi-disaster off the coast of Louisiana with that blown oil platform. I say semidisaster because the effects of oil are temporary. Whatever damage done will go away, in time, after we stop the flow of oil. Oddly. one of the groups we have to thank for this is the antil drilling bunch. Had we some kind of rational drilling policy that rig would be in shallow water, the leak would have been stopped within days and the mess already cleaned up.But these anti drilling people are so much smarter than everyone else, just ask them.

It's Time To Say Goodbye

Ming the Merciless has lost the use of her back legs completely. The poor little girl is well over twelve years old and it's getting to be time to take her into the yard with a paper plate full of liverwurst (her fave) and give her the shot.

Rudyard Kipling said it as well as anyone in The Power Of The Dog, the last stanzas go like:

When the body that lived at your single will,
With it's whimper of welcome is stilled (how still!)
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone--wherever it goes--for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart for a dog to tear.

We've sorrow enough in the natural way. When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given but only lent, at compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept 'em the more we grieve;

For, when debts are payable, right or wrong, A short-time loan is as bad as a long--
So why in -- Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our heart for a dog to tear?

Why indeed? Yet we do it anyway. Well, it's time to dig another hole in the yard. Damn. Just damn.

Don't Tell Nobody But Being Single Blows Chunks.

So, the idiot Doctor and hospital decided to have the surgery on Linda Lou's leg when they had no room for her on the rehab wing. The surgery went fine, BTW, they removed all the hardware and put in a longer rod, and, while he was inside, he worked on her knee some, also.

The plan was to put her in this nursing home in Greenville that does physical therapy. Only after the surgery did anyone check to see if our insurance would cover that. The answer is no. So, they kept Linda Lou in the medical-surgery wing longer than usual until they could find a hospital with a rehab wing with room for her. All the "close" hospitals were full, leaving us with a choice of two, about seventy-five miles away, each. You might not believe this but I said an ugly word. Or two.

Fortunately, one of the hospitals is in Plano, TX, where our daughter lives with her family. So, that's where I took her. I have enough gas in the tank to go get her and bring her home, next Thursday. Not to go see her. Oh, snap! And other comments.

The good news is thar she is getting her physical therapy and Stephanie is able to visit and do things like keep her in clean laundry and the odd snack. Tonight, Steph and Dean took William, aka Dead Eye McGurk, to a scouting function and couldn't come. Dean's parents, though, showed up with the other two boys, Josiah and Karson. So, even though I can't go, my Linda Lou gets visits from some of those who love her.

Don't tell her that I miss her, she'll get the big head. While Linda Lou is in the hospital I'm fixing some of the meals from bachelorhood. Meals like "Oh no! Not Again!" This is hamburger, fried and drained, then cooked a little more with onions, mixed with rice and served with lots of soy sauce. For some strange reason this recipe repels women but guys like it. It's not worth having Linda Lou gone so long, though.

Other than that, the big news around here is that one of my neighbors rototilled a little strip in the front yard and we hit a yard where someone once had a mobile home, dug up a couple of dozen Iris and I planted them. There are a lot of Iris left, there. The place has been empty for a long time and the Iris have kind of taken over. The Iris I planted won't, if they live, bloom until next Spring but, what the heck. If they live, good, if not, well, I tried. Iris, being more or less a desert plant, require little, to no effort, the hard part is keeping them from turning into an Iris "forest".

Ming the Merciless has gone completely blind now, this has been coming on for a while. She is still fairly comfortable, though. The pains she has are controlled by the same low dose aspirin I take every day to reduce the risk of a heart attack. Only hers are wrapped in liverwurst. Her teeth are pretty well gone now, too. So I feed her that soft pouch food. Bingo and CAP don't quite understand that they get kibble and she gets pouch food. The kibble is better for them, though.

Anyhow, Ming is still fairly happy, even though she can't see and can't hardly walk. I take her outside once or twice a day, she lays outside after she's done her business and limped away a few feet. She lays there and sniffs the wind and barks at strange sounds and smells for a while, then I bring her back in. Then she gets her liverwurst pill.

Forty years ago if anyone would have told me that this would be my life, I probably would have thumped 'em with a stick or something. As it is, even through the rough patches, I'm one of the luckiest guys around. I might not be rich but what I have is both mine and paid for, plus the kids and grandkids that love me, not to mention my Linda Lou. I won't mention her for fear of that big head. Which is different from a little head.

Another Mother's Day. I Still Miss Her

I am sure there are men and women who miss their mothers as much as I do, I just can't figure out who they would be.

Single Again For A Little While

Linda Lou is back in the hospital after more surgery on that same broken leg. Seems one or more of the screws holding the rod to the bone came out and her leg was healing with a bend where there should be no bend. So they went in and put a longer rod in, plus, since her knee was about kaput, they did a little work there, too.

Lord only knows how long they'll keep her there this time, seems they want her to stay long enough to avoid her having to keep repeating the process. It would be nice to get back into a regular routine. This is about the only reason I miss living in town. Instead of it being a ten minute drive it's always a big trek. It could be worse, though, I could have settled in Nashville.

Hmmm, Linda Lou just called. Seems that, instead of staying home and keeping the dogs comfy I have to go take Linda Lou to a nursing home near the hospital as they have no rooms available in the physical therapy section. Seems that the physical terrorists can work on her just as well in the other nursing care center. I would have been just as happy had she watched where she was walking in the first place.

More, later, when I have some idea of what is going on.

A Little Progress On The Fractures

I drove Linda Lou to the Orthopedist yesterday for her checkup, good news! She is now allowed to put a little weight on that foot. Even better, a weel from Monday she goes in for the outpatient surgery to remove all the hardware from inside her leg, the rod(s?), the screws, the Buick 231 V6, all of it. Then, if the bones are still a little wiggly, he will put some external rods on, otherwise, just another of those boots.

I am glad to see this progress as Linda Lou is still riding the "I'm just a poor cripple, wait on me hand and foot" routine for all it's worth. I swear, I'm staying in bed for a month once she's recovered. Maybe three months.

Other than that, not much going on here. I keep seeing stuff I think I ought to write about, only to find that everyone else already has. I'll get into it again, I swear. Until then, is it nap time?

Update: I just remembered, about a month ago I was lamenting the impending demise of Marlin Firearms Company. Well, I was looking at the Rossi catalog online, those are the Brazilian folks who made my clone of the Winchester '92. Anyhow, they are putting out what looks to be a copy of the most popular Marlin, the 336 in .30-30. That carbine competed with the Winchester Model 94 and was, in some ways, a better firearm. With it's solid top and side ejection it is easier to scope, for one thing, and the action is somewhat more resistant to getting crud in it in, say, woods hunting in tough weather. At any rate, the new Rossi lever action sort of helps with the demise of Winchester and the impending demise of Marlin. Too bad for us, though, if we ever really need to make large amounts of war materiel again. Not only do we no longer have the factories, we no longer have many people who can work in factories.

Dead Eye McGurk, Terror Of Tejas

We finally took one of my grandsons, Dean and Stephanie's oldest William, shooting. The first step was letting the boy know exactly what a gun can do, we had three melons of various sorts, a cantaloupe, something else and one of those little personal-sized watermelons. there were shot with my .45 Colt rifle and the .30-06, plus the one shot up with the .22. The .22 impressed the boy, those plain vanilla Remington high speed hollowpoints left quarter sized exit holes in the melon, plus sprayed a good bit of melon out over the grass.

The .45 Colt, shot with a "Ruger Only" load that was a Hornady XTP 250 gr Jacketed Hollowpoint that leaves the 24 inch barrel of my Model '92 clone at near 2000 feet per second blows up a melon nicely. The .30-06 was most impressive of all, though, it hit the melon and sent a spray of melon guts all over, plus some larger chunks falling from the sky well after the BOOM!

We started William, excuse me, Dead Eye, with the .22. This .22 is mine, I bought it back when I was sort of flush, actually I bought a Shilen Match grade bull barrel and a Hogue overmolded stock for a Ruger 10-.22, before I ever had the action. Then I bought a beat-up 10-.22 along with a set of Volquartson action parts, a target hammer, sear, etc. I basically turned a small game and plinking carbine into a target rifle. Then I later turned the original stock and barrel over to Dead Eye's Daddy to cut down to fit him. The ruger has a simple barrel change, the barrel is held on by a V-block and two allen bolts. Since the bull barrel is too heavy and the Hogue stock too long for the seven year old we made the switch, leaving the action modifications in, nobody has ever been hurt by shooting with a good trigger.

Even as light as the stock barrel is, the rifle is still a tad heavy for the boy so he used a rest. He fired close to fifty rounds with the .22 and then, for grins and giggles, fired a few rounds from a S&W Model 60 .38 Special, two inch, some .38 ammo in a Ruger SP101 .357 and, the piece de resistance, the .45 Colt in a Single Action Army clone. All of those, of course, with mild loads, 3.5 grains of Hodgdon's Titegroup behind a 158 grain semiwadcutter in the .38 and .357 and 5.5 grains of Titegroup and a 250 grain flat point round nose in the .45. The boy loved him that .45. He also liked the .38 but not the .357. I'm not sure if it was the bigger grip or the heavier weight. The boy is now watching my heath carefully, in hopes of inheriting my shootin' irons. He's also got a beady eye on his Dad's .30-06.

We've created a monster! As always, click on the pictures to embiggen them. I'm hoping Dean's Dad will send me some of the pictures he took so I'll have some of him with the .22.

Bacon And Beans

Start with a three pound package of Wright's Bacon Ends And Pieces. Take a sharp knife and cut the package in half, wrap and freeze one half. Spray some Pam on the bottom of a big skillet or the big pot you soaked the beans in and then dried, fry the bacon. Pour the bacon grease over the dogs' kibble, they love that. There are other ways to get bacon, including buying sliced bacon but, trust me, go to Wally World and try the Wrights, it's simply amazing how much meat, as opposed to fat, is in one of those boxes. Anyway, after frying up and draining the bacon, add two pounds of soaked beans, the bean of your choice. This works with (so far) Pinto beans, Navy beans, Lima, both small and large, Great Northern, Split Pea, Black beans, Kidney and Red Beans. I'm sure there are lots of others. Today, for no particular reason, I'm doing Great Northern Beans. Actually, there is a reason, because I can!

After frying and draining the bacon, add the beans and hot water along with an onion or two, some bay leaf and garlic, lots of garlic. The rule of thumb is add garlic until you're sure you have too much, then add more. After all, with all those vampires out there, oh sorry, those are congresscritters. Eh, same thing. Garlic and onion are especially important if one plans on visiting Washington, Dc in the summer, Harry Reid has a very sensitive nose.

I'm not persactly sure why but my Momma always added some carrot to white beans, except Lima Beans. At any rate, I always add the carrots, too. I do not want to meet my Momma in the afterlife and deserve that backhand she had, quicker'n a striking snake!

Always soak the beans longer than you think you need to and make sure they're well cooked, it will eliminate, or at least lessen, the clouds of rank gas. Oooh, speaking of beans, I finally looked up Haricot Beans on the Intertoobz. Turns out this is just some foreign word for navy Beans. I have casually wondered about that since I first read All Quiet On The Western Front, some fifty+ years ago. In the book the protagonists stole a big pot of Haricot Beans and ham and snuck it back to their squad. It was about the only funny part of that book. Anyhow, if you don't want to use bacon (and what is wrong with you?) ham works almost as well, there is just no grease for the dogs' kibble.

I have been waiting for my son in law to E-mail the pictures from last Saturday's shooting expedition, we took William shooting for the first time. The boy is seven. I had his dad saw two one inch pieces off the original stock of my little Ruger 10/.22 and we put that and the stock barrel back on it. The stock barrel does not shoot near as well as the $300.00 Shilen target barrel, imagine that. Anyhow, if I ever get those pictures I'll post a full report. William, being as small as he is, I thought sure he worldn't want to shoot the .38 and .357 small frame revolvers, nor my Colt Single Action Army clones in .45 Colt. Shows what I know. That boy just loved that Colt Clone and the little S&W Mod 60 five shooter .38. He didn't like the Ruger SP101 .357, though, the grip was a bit too big for his little hands. Naturally, I did not use any heavy kicking loads in those revolvers, there will be time for that when he's in his mid teens.

Seems it ought to be time to eat but the beans aren't done yet.

Bugz And Gas!

Between sitting around drooling on myself from the pills and working my fingers to the bone taking care of Linda Lou and the dog critters I have been trying to figure out what the heck the pencil neck in chief means by this new nuclear posture.

The old one was simple, use WMDs on the United States or her closest allies and risk the full fury of her armed forces, up to and including the biggest thermonuclear weapons in our inventory. And, because we have pledged not to use biowar and chemwar our military doctrine has been a bug= a gas= the Bomb.

Here is my problem with this new "posture", which looks a lot like groveling from here. Gearing up to build nukes is very expensive and hard to keep secret. I'm pretty sure if the nutcases running Iran had put the resources they've sunk into trying to make the Bomb and the delivery systems, their economy would be flush and their people happier.

Chemical and Biowar, on the other hand, are cheap. Any country with a medical research program can, instead, make bioweapons. After all, if one is set up to study germs and virus, one can make them. As a matter of fact, to study them one nearly always makes them.

Chemical weapons are even cheaper. A High School Chemical class has all the equipment needed to make enough Chlorine Gas to kill the heart of a city. For the cost of just one main battle tank a country could make up the lab to send bioweapons throughout the USA and her allies. Nor does one even need those fancy fake shaving cream cans from that Tom Clancy novel. There are several highly contagious diseases for which few of us are immunized. Plague, for instance. Round up a couple of hundred would be suicide bombers only instead of filling their BVDs with explosives and taping the wicks to their weenies, shoot them up with the bug de jour and send them to the USA, Europe, Australia, etc. No bombs, no skulking about the reservoirs, just ride the subways and buses during rush hour until too sick to get out of bed, then die. Even if they end up going to the hospital instead of dropping dead during rush hour, they've done their damage, everyone they've been close to is now spreading those same bugs.

Suppose your part of the HateAmerica club is short on Jihadis willing to kill themselves? No worry, simply get a hundred kilos or so of uncut Heroin. make the first cut some Plague or Anthrax, maybe some Smallpox and slip it in, a couple kilos at a time into the already established pipelines. America's and Europe's junkies will do the rest.

Now the reasons that folks like the Castro brothers or Qaddafi or any number of other bad guys have not done something like this already have nothing to do with their well known Christian charity but fear, raw, naked fear. The Mad Mullahs of Iran have no problem sending others to their deaths, they, however, cling to life. They all have held off simply because they all knew that a chemical is a bug is a nuke. They do not know that anymore.

A conventional response to a biowar attack is manpower intensive. The manpower might be short if, say, the 3rd Infantry Division and First Armored riddled with Plague. Yet at least some of our Missile Subs are at sea, ready to turn a foe's home into a radioactive desert. Our jughead in Chief has removed that possibility. Funny, my children do not live at the Jihadi's ultimate ground zero, his do. So does he. Idiot.

Quiet Time

I just noticed that I haven't posted anything since my birthday, March 28. I hurt my back getting Linda Lou up that too short, too steep ramp the day she came home from the hospital. When I finally got to the back doc he gave me pills that have really made me slow, stupid and sleepy. Add that Linda Lou has taken full advantage of being a pore helpless cripple and is doing her best to work my fingers to the bone...

I should post a picture of my bony fingers. Anyhow, I will eventually get back into the swing of things. Right now, instead of reading blogs and writing I am watching old reruns of Law and Order SVU and Major Case as well as NCIS. These pills make the stupidity of what Hollywood thinks cops do look almost okay. I have not, however, fallen so far as to watch wrestling, that's something.

Anyhow, I should eventually get far enough along in my physical therapy that I can discard these pills. Until then, well, I miss you.

Grimmest Economic News Yet!

In more news that the economy is going south farther than in 1929-1940, the Marlin Firearms company is closing it's doors next year. This is a company that started in 1870, survived the great depression, as well as several of the big financial panics of the late 19th Century and is still (but not for long) making the oldest continuously produced shoulder arm in the world, the Marlin 39A. This little rifle, alas, is beyond the means of most .22 shooters, having been developed back when rifles were built with lots of hand fitting.

Marlin, today is built mainly around the old fashioned shootin' irons, lot's of neat little .22 rifles and, in centerfire, lever actions. The post Obama election gun boom has mainly been in handguns and autoloading rifles, especially the AR-15 clones. Unfortunately few people today know that one can shoot a good lever action apractice and who take the time to aim.

The rise of Cowboy Action Shooting had given Marlin a new lease on life for a few years, until the Italian clones of the 1866 and 1873 Winchesters became more popular. These rifles are not nearly so strong as the Marlin, or the '92 Winchester clones, due to their design they can't really take pressures much higher than the black powder levels of the 1880s but, due to the "short stroke" kits that SASS allows, they are faster to operate. Nobody in the Cowboy Action Matches much cares about the added weight and low power of these rifles. Most of us who use the rifles for competition, hunting and as a long arm for defense, choose a different gun, either the various Winchester 1892 clones or one model or other of the Marlin 1894.

I have a special fondness for the Marlin 1894 Carbines, as opposed to their rifles with the octagonal barrels, I like the light weight and effortless balance. My little 1894C Carbine is only thirty-six inches long and weighs six pounds. It holds nine .357 Magnum rounds or ten .38 Specials. It is the perfect companion for the person who wears a .357 or .38 revolver. The same is true for the 1894 in .44 for those who like the bigger hole in the barrel.

The 1894 Cowboy rifles are half a pound heavier, other than that they are just as nice. They also come in .45 Colt which the regular 1894s do not come in.

Also going, alas, are the 336 models in .30-30 and .35 Remington. These were the major competition for the Winchester 94 in .30-30, .32 Special and .25-35, which is also defunct.

The demise of Marlin also means that H&R will be gone as they were swallowed up by Marlin some time back, there goes the inexpensive break open single shot rifles and shotguns.

It's pretty sad, more and more, the gun industry, which we once lead, is now moving to Italy and China.

So, Now We Find Out

Well, it's time we find out whether or not we are the sons and daughters of the men who stormed the beaches at Normandy and Tarawa and the women who built the airplanes and the ships or if our courage has been bred out of us. We'll find out in November.

Obama, Reid and Pelosi think we have somehow become Frenchmen, that we'll take any insult from "our betters" in government. I say different. We have the ballot. Since the government clowns fail to listen to us we will speak with our votes. If, however, they keep pulling tricks like that unfunny clown Franken, we have other means to make them listen. Listen they will, though, whether they want to or not.

It is interesting to see that some on the left are claiming that the Tea Partiers in Washington shouted racial epitaphs at congresscritters on their way to vote in that stacked deck. Oddly, though, Representative Jesse Jackson, Junior was recording the whole thing on one of those little video cameras. One would think if such a thing had happened, the left would be filling the airwaves with the videos. Since they aren't I question the veracity of such statements. More importantly, I question the motives of those making such statements.

Leftists have been telling lies for generations now. With everyone carrying cell phone cameras and cheap video cams those lies have been exposed, over and over. They may want to claim that our side are the racists, meanwhile we know that the loudest voices shouting "nigger!" at a Tea Party event were when those SEIU thugs were beating Kenneth Gladney.

The Democrats have thrown a gauntlet at our feet, after slapping us with it. They think we'll take it. Somehow, I think different.

Kinda Dopey

I went to see a back doctor Thursday, a real adventure as Linda Lou didn't want to be left alone for so long. It started with getting Linda Lou out onto the deck with her walker, then into her chair, down that too steep ramp and then back onto the walker and into the van, then walker and wheelchair into the van. Whew! Naptime! Whoops! Plus Bee Eye Eng Gee Oh! We couldn't go without Bingo T. Pug, now could we?

Anyhow, no time for a nap, we had to drive to Rockwall, TX to one of the offices of the Texas Back Institute. Fortunately we were nice and early because we had the same rigmarole getting Linda Lou out of the car. Once we got in I had about five X-rays on my neck and back and then into an examining room where I met my Doc, who turned out to be a surgeon.

He explained that I have some fairly serious Degenerative Arthritis. I answered with something along the lines of "No scatological expletive, Sherlock, what was your first clue?" The bottom line is I'll see a non-surgical Doc on my follow up visits, and I got some fairly stout muscle relaxants and some pain pills. I am also supposed to go for some physical therapy but that isn't until after Linda Lou is up and around. The Doc is a nice guy and realizes that I have enough on my plate right now.

We then went by the Kroger's over there, Linda Lou stayed in the car with Bingo. There are a few things Kroger's has that Wal-Mart doesn't. From there we went to the newest location of Half Price Books, so new they're not selling anything yet, just buying so they'll have something in stock when they open Monday. Too bad, there are no really good bookstores within about forty miles.

About then I was getting pretty sore so we only made two more stops, to Ded Bath and Beyond to buy a pillow for Linda Lou's wheelchair and Wal Mart for my scrip. Linda Lou got to go into Wal Mart because of the electric buggies they have, it's a lot less work, too, without having to get the wheelchair in and out of the van.

The new pills are making me really dopey, though. I shall not have much to say about anything until I am more acclimated to them or I'm done taking them. They are working though. After each dose wears off I can tell I have a little more range of motion in my neck and a little less pain in my lower back, plus I seem to be able to stand longer before those lower back muscles start to cramp. that should count for something. I am not sure that I'll still need these after a few more days.

Anyhow, that was my big adventure. Monday it's more doctor stuff, this time for Linda Lou. In other important news I made up a nice big cottage pie for a couple-three night's supper.

Tiring

It doesn't help that my back has been hurting ever since I pulled Linda Lou up that way to steep ramp so she could come in the house. Not that I have ever particularly wanted a girl so skinny she could bathe in a shotgun barrel.

I have been just flat wore plumb to the bone since Linda Lou came home. Luckily we don't have a slew of kids still at home, just taking care of her and the dogs, plus me, is more than I cared for, really. Oh well, we do what we must, sometimes it's just more work than we expect. I keep reminding myself that someday the situation will be reversed.

Yesterday we got a visit from a county social worker, there will be a volunteer crew out soon to rebuild the ramp. She also checked to find out if Linda Lou's health insurance would rent her a wheelchair, which was delivered that same afternoon. All without that jug eared idiotic Chicago thug "helping". And Michelle didn't help push her from the real hospital to a "neighborhood clinic", either.

I really wish I could have gone to Washington, DC for that big shindig today but even without the broken bone issues, neither of my Senators, nor my House Rep did, or would, vote for this monstrosity. That's something.

Well, while I was whining about all my troubles, here on the blog, my Linda Lou got on her cell phone and made an appointment with her back doctor for me. So I see them day after tomorrow. Somehow that seems faster than under government run health care would be.

Anyhow, nothing much to say, I'm working my way through a mountain of laundry with Linda Lou's instructions. I do a lot better with her instructions but don't tell her that, she'd get the big head.

Home With The Armadillos

It was The Big Day. I started by doing just enough last minute housework to keep Linda Lou from killing me over the state of the house and, remember, we keep house with a long handled pitchfork. Then I finally went out and cleaned the inside of the windshield with Windex, I just couldn't stand it any more.

I got to the hospital right about the time Linda Lou told me to be there, only to discover I was late. Marriage is one of the few institutions where a man can get in trouble for doing exactly as he is told. Once I got there I started thanking Heaven that I had been bringing the laundry home every visit. I made the mistake of taking Linda Lou everything she asked for, forgetting how she takes four suitcases on an overnight trip. Plus one pair of clean socks for me. Anyhow a nice nurses aide (they have a different title now which I disremember) brought me a cart and, eventually, I got everything loaded and on the elevator and down I went, Linda Lou following in her wheelchair.

I simply cannot say enough about the many acts of kindness and caring by the whole staff of Hunt County Memorial Hospital. They have been simply wonderful and I shall go to my grave thanking them. I also have a little something to say about "America's unaffordable and inferior medical system." Now I know that Michelle O. spent a lot of time making good money steering the poor away from what is alleged to be a first class hospital up there in Chicago but then, from what I've read, there is nothing at all honest or first class in that whole county.

Down here in Texas a lower middle class woman can break a couple of bones on the 24th of February and stay in the hospital until the 12th of March, mainly getting physical therapy until she can work her way about the house, unassisted by anything but her walker, which was paid for by our insurance.(along with everything else, so far.

So, after all the loading of baggage and Linda Lou into the car we had to wend our way home. First stop was the prescriptions at Wally World, since she needed them today we got one of the electrical carts for her to sit in and it must have been a Toyota. Every time she pushed the button the wrong way it went backwards instead of forwards or vice versa. Imagine that. She eventually got it straight in her head though. Meanwhile I got milk and such, plus a few of those big Marie Callender's Pot Pies. From there it was over to Brookshires, which for some reason I still call Minyards, they are each medium sized supermarkets which are usually more expensive than Wally World but they have good sales. I bought a couple more of their angus Beef Top Sirloin Steaks for the freezer plus four boxes of maple sausage links and somne pints of ice cream, all on sale.

Lastly a quick stop for Linda Lou's cheeseburger and Tots, another stop to pay the water bill and home! The very start of getting from the car to the house was made more difficult than it should have been by all the rain we've been having, the ground was soft and the "feet" of the walker were trying to sink. then, as I had feared, the ramp is too steep. We finally got Linda Lou's four wheeled walker that she bought some time back, mainly so she always would have a place to sit on trips, onto the ramp, she backed up and sat down and with her pushing with her good foot and me pulling, got her to the deck and then we got her other walker and into the house. Well, except we had to open the door to an hysterical Bingo. Pug. Ming the Merciless just laid in her little doggie bed and barked until Linda Lou was in her chair and had her in her lap. Meanwhile I brought the groceries and some of the luggage in, the rest can sit in the car until I bring it in.

Anyhow, it was an adventure but we've got her home. Thank you Hunt County Memorial and thank you, Lord.

Training Day.

Well, today I have to go back to the hospital without any of the dogs. It's the day the Physical Terrorists are going to be teaching Linda Lou to get from the walker into the van so that she will be able to come home Friday.

Please forgive me if today's post is a little disjointed...I took my today's morning pills last night instead of my night time pills. Then when I woke up and wondered what was wrong I noticed it and then stayed up for an hour or three, and took my night time pills without the sleep aid and antidepressants which also help me to sleep.

It was an adventure last night, I stopped and bought a shower transfer bench yesterday and, when I got it home, discovered that the assembly directions were written by Latvians, then translated into Chinese by someone only casually familiar with each language, then translated from the Chinese into English by a Turk who was unfamiliar with Chinese. There were, perhaps, some Urdu speakers involved.

Anyhow, an easy, fifteen minute job took an hour and a week's ration of ugly words, with the dogs hiding. Well, CAP was out in the backyard being a Mud Monster. Bingo, though, may have been abused or maybe he's just sensitive. Whenever I raise my voice he is sure he's done something awful and hides from the coming punishment. In his whole life with us he's never once been hit with anything although I've threatened him with a map of Colorado. And maybe Nebraska, I have a map of Nebraska that I've paddled CAP a few times. They pay attention when you tell 'em they're gonna get beat with Nebraska!

The ramp is built. Trouble is, I think it may be too steep. I do believe, though, that I can take a few more boards and tie it together to make the ramp five or, maybe, ten feet longer with would lesson the angle. This will be a fairly easy job, run some 2x4s underneath to tie the two sections together and, viola! A longer ramp, less steep. Until then, I'll have to stand behind and push or, going down, stand in front of and brake. While all of this goes on I'll try to be too polite to mention that none of all this would be needed had she only not tripped over thin air in an empty hallway.

Keep Out! Construction Zone.

I have the lumber for the ramp to replace the front steps now. Who knew lumber was so expensive these days? I mean lumber grows on trees! I didn't buy enough lumber for the whole world, two 2x10s, two 2x12s and one 4 x4 four and two 2x4s, those last for bracing. Plus a box of wood screws. One hundred and fifteen dollars! If construction wasn't dead we could have snuck 'round and, nah, no sense in me getting shot.

Who, precisely, do we have to thank for this? I wasn't buying old growth redwood or the Cedars of Sinai, I was buying plain, treated lumber. I suspect the Greenies. Somehow, we ordinary Americans need to convince Washington to listen to us for a while instead of every idiot "environmental group", mostly each of those groups consisting of three people and a fax machine, cranking out press releases having nothing to do with the real world. Is that spotted owl family (the ones that only live in old growth forest) still living in that K-Mart sign?

Anyhow, my pal Steve is coming over to do the skilled labor on this ramp contraption. We are using the 2x10s and 2x12s together to make a 44 inch wide ramp, that's what will go between the stairway bannister's. I have a few concrete blocks around and the neighbors have this pile of scrap lumber for additional bracing. I figure we're building a ramp for the ages.

Linda Lou is being discharged from the hospital on this coming Friday. It's high time. I find myself talking to her because I forget she's not sitting in her little chair by the desk. I've been telling her, several times a day, that I like coffee, for instance, just in case she forgets. For a while it made her mad, now she realizes it's just another running joke. I also tell her how I like pie but I don't get that as often as I do coffee.

Anyhow, I'm not used to being single anymore and I'm certainly not used to washing ladies' undergarments. Guy's laundry is easy. White underwear in one pile, colored tee shirts and blue jeans in another and everything else to the cleaners. Just be careful not to get into the great shop towel war with your guy roommates so you don't end up with all pink underwear. (Don't ask how I learned that.) One fairly new red shop towel will turn a whole load of underwear pink and I don't care how much bleach you put in, it takes a bazillion washings for it to be white again. But I digress.

I miss Linda Lou, the dogs miss Linda Lou and, even though I've taken the Pugs with me twice now, it's not the same. Cochise' Apache Princess also misses Linda Lou and I reckon we're stuck with her. Oh well, we'll just have to be extra careful. I'll just have to put CAP out whenever Linda Lou has to get up and wander around with her walker.

Well, it's Sunday morning and I'll be doing some work. I do believe that means I can have french toast and Little Sizzler sausages without penalty. And, if there is a penalty anyway, poo on it.

At Least Two Senators Dead And Nothing In The News!

Senator Bunning tried to make the Senate obey it's own rules to no avail. It was hard to believe Bunning would actually change things. After all, no one ever expects Democrats to follow the laws they themselves passed. Not when they can instead sit around talking about Republican being hypocrites.Turns out that a lot of Washington Republicans are hipocrites, though.

My two Senators, John Cornyn and Kay Baily Hutchinson, along with every other Republican Senator let Bunning twist slowly in the wind. The amazing thing is that every time Cornyn and Hutchinson talk to Texas they talk about what great fiscal conservatives they are. Here they had their chance and nothing. Nothing. Did they both die and since they are lowly Republicans the Washington Press Corpse didn't find it important enough to print. I would rather believe that than believe that Cornyn and Hutchinson are a couple of lying scumbags who talk one thing in Texas and do quite another thing up there in DC.

That's the problem. The whole Republican delegation in the United States Senate talked about fiscal responsibility. Over and over. At every election cycle. And then? Jim Bunning, alone. Sure, if the entire Republican caucus hadn't died and fought, instead, they would have lost. In losing, though, they would have sent a message to the electorate. An electorate that would have remembered in November. Too bad they died.