On this day let us not forget those whose lives were shortened by service related injuries.
Hint. Only four flags flying.
OLD AGE AND TREACHERY WILL OVERCOME YOUTH AND SKILL. And on the eighth day God said, "Okay, Murphy, you're in charge!" Anonymous comments will not be posted.
Hint. Only four flags flying.
A Letter to the Editor I recently submitted hasn’t been published. The paper leans as far to the left as possible in a sold red county (Trump carried with 72% of the vote). I’m not holding my breath.
To The Editor:
In 2019 nationwide there were 2,112 more deaths from gunshots than traffic deaths (39,707 vs 37,595) per the Center for Disease Control and Prevention’s National Vital Statistics System.
10,142 of the traffic deaths involved alcohol, per the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration.
Requiring a breath test interlock device on every vehicle in the USA could save those lives.
Ridiculous? No more ridiculous than the myriad of proposed “gun laws.
Gaia’s bounty is unfairly distributed. The above picture is in Western Nebraska off US 6 looking NNW. Five weeks ago I drove that road and everything was dull brown.
The area has had a very wet spring. Contrast that with the Western Slope of Colorado. My rancher friends are very worried.
Starting along the Front Range the snowpack on the North End that feeds the Platte Rivers is above average. The further South you go, the less the snowpack. Those mountains feeding the Rio Grande system are at 22% normal. Mid state, those mountains feed the Colorado system are at 60% normal.
There is faint hope for the Colorado River as the Green, out of Wyoming, is rapidly filling the Flaming Gorge reservoir from Wyoming’s harsh and heavy winter.
We need moisture. Not just for agriculture but hot and dry summers make for huge forest fires.
Got up early this morning to witness the “Blood Moon” total eclipse. Mother Nature had her own plans.
Banner enjoyed his early morning walk and breakfast so all wasn’t lost. The cloud cover did make for a nice sunrise.
A cousin and her husband raise alpacas for themselves and others. Today was shearing and gathering of the fleece.
My old medical courier comrade, “Santa” and his crew came to observe as did DrJim along with SLW and TLG. TLG seemed a bit overwhelmed but did well for a four year old. Santa's pic at the bottom.
Waiting. Alpacas generally don’t bite but have a nasty spit. A sock helps.
The peacocks were penned next to the shearing and they were not pleased. Not pictured is the full sized Llama who acts as a guard. Llamas will take on and beat a coyote or stray dog.
There was a break for lunch which Sisty organized and then rain. One of the shearing crew, an Apache, started praying. Worked, the rain moved on.
Getting old sucks! My two vehicles need some very minor work that, in my younger days, I would do without even sweating.
Now this 76 year old obese body just won’t twist and scoot. Oh, let us not discuss bending knees or getting up without something to pull against!
Not that my fine motor skills were ever that good, today I spend more time picking up things I’ve dropped or that have slipped out of my grasp, then turning wrenches.
The soonest the one mechanic I trust can work on the Buick is 6/7! He is that booked up.
The Mighty Max spare tire hoist is jammed. Without jacking it up, I can’t get under far enough to see the jamb. I don’t want to crawl under it without it being up on secure jack stands (which are in a storage shed). I can do the work at the storage lot but prefer to have someone around when I crawl under a vehicle.
I loathe asking anyone for help and have always been that way. Like any life decisions, it comes with a cost. Upside? Hones your survival skills.
Most likely, the PMC isn’t warranted. I’m ambulatory, breathing air, taking nourishment, and have beaten the actuary tables.
This is a Northern Colorado specific blog posting. You may want to skip it.
Article in the local rag is, IMO, cause for alarm. Inbound migration to Weld County from the Peoples Republic of Boulder may skew future elections from Red to Purple or even Blue.
Outside of District 50, that contains a large portion of the county seat (Greeley), most of the county votes conservative, as in 70% for President Trump. District 50 encompasses the Teachers College, excuse me, University of Northern Colorado. Recent elections have seen (P)regressive gains along the western and south western areas.
Weld County is home to 50%+ of Colorado’s oil and natural gas production. Emperor Polis and co-conspirators are already having a negative impact on the industry. In addition to evil petroleum, the (P)regressives foam at historic balanced budgets and, IMO, one of the best Sheriff department and traditional courts. Serious crimes do not get slaps on the wrist or plea bargained to minor misdemeanors.
Surrounding South and West side counties have a population in excess of 1,256,000 to Weld County at 314,000. Add nearby Denver County with 716,000 and it gets bleaker.
Potential civil war strategic position? Two of the three Interstate Highways in the state run through Weld County. Three of the five interstate railroads run through Weld County.
Should the Weld County, WY movement ever succeed, “things” could get interesting. Most of the sparsely inhabited counties to the east (which account for nearly 40% of the state’s agriculture) would welcome an opportunity to join Weld County, WY.
Lots of naysayers about the chances.
I’m not so certain. Will it happen peaceable? Oh, Hell No! That doesn’t mean it can’t happen.
I fear we are living the Chinese curse, “May you live in interesting times”.
A young man I occasionally mentor got home yesterday after a bout with kidney stones. His reply to my text inquiry how he was feeling,
“No, I feel like death. I’ve been bucked off horses, ran over by trucks, maced, tased, punched in the face, fallen from trees…..I’ve never felt pain like this. I was crying like a baby at the hospital, like a baby!”
I’m thankful I’ve never had that particular problem. I know some readers have. A neighbor down the hall, a once vigorous and robust man, is hobbling around with a cane after a prolonged bout. He’s been hospitalized four times in the past year.
This young man has had some ups and downs. Two weeks prior to entering the Army, he was a passenger in a truck wreck which messed up his right ankle. His son is autistic. He is the youngest in a terribly dysfunctional family.
I hope this is behind him. He is a sober, hard working family man. An entrepreneur, he works for himself. He and his wife are, simply put, good people.
A parachute equipped Cirrus floated down and the occupants walked away. Amazing!
The lenticular clouds are back indicating a wind shift to our more common pattern.
Vulture row, aka designated smoking area, had the neighborhood watch in place. They observe everything, having nothing better to do, then gossip.
An assignment yesterday took me past the town of Keenesburg. Coming back on Road 49, at the intersection with Highway 34, an accident had everything blocked except one lane headed north. Ah ha, says the local knowledge guy, I’ll just run up to the Airport Road and head north to my next call. Yeah, that route is down to one lane for paving. Jumped off on one of the unpaved roads and got around the jam, adding twenty minutes, and twelve miles, to my trip. One benefit was Banner had his head out the window enjoying the new smells.
Such an exciting life that dog and I lead!
Nothing exotic or unusual; just a lifetime collection of tools used by a farmer.
What gun grabbers rarely seem to grasp is inner city gang bangers are a miniscule sliver of firearms users. These are tools, used with a purpose.
We can only speculate how many children and grandchildren learned to shoot with these; how many varmints were dispatched, and even how much meat was put on the table.
How sad there are no heirs to keep them.
Eyesight issues have put an end to my shooting except for self defense. I still keep up with, as Old NFO says, “Minute of Bad Guy”, practice.
I do get a lot of auction notices that occasional cause acute nostalgia attacks.
Whenever Banner is in the blog, the stat count zooms. Seems I’m a wingman for a blasted dog! My handsome visage and sparking personality is ignored.
At the dog park most of the regulars know his name. Me? Eh!
In our ninety unit senior apartment building he is the Ambassador of Smiles. I’m tolerated. Keeping score one day, I counted twelve different people who petted him.
Our morning routine is his breakfast, then out back to the plaza/lawn area. Business taken care of, it is inside to the commons area where the “Treat Lady”, aka Coven Leader awaits. After several treats and some quality petting, I’m allowed to return to the apartment for “my” breakfast and coffee.
He has competition for treats.
After a brief nap, he will allow me to take him on our morning walk. On nice days he prefers to take this nap on the deck in the sun, or, wherever he pleases, especially if it is in my way.
Walking, unless we change routes, he soon becomes bored and just trudges along. More than one neighbor has pointed this out. Eyes are everywhere around here. Many are quite pleased to be advocates for Banner and advise me on how to treat him.
One of our afternoon walk routes takes us by a few homes with children. We are required to stop so they can pet him.
I’m loath to even think how he is spoiled when he spends time at my sister’s house.
He savages chew toys. Items like rawhide chews he will eat completely in ten minutes.
Overall he is a great companion and I believe I won the dog lottery. We are 1 ½ year into our relationship. He has had exactly one accident in the apartment. He rarely barks. Now he has me fairly well trained, things are going well.
Please understand he is Bruce Banner, not the Incredible Hulk Banner. He is, for lack of a better description, a wimp! He remains terrified of tile floors and Chihuahuas intimidate him.
My apology for the weird pictures. I’m still using Windows 7 and Blogger doesn’t like that.
Along with rain comes mud. I’m glad I’m retired.
The city should do some selective pruning before some of the trees leaf out.
We’ve had such a mild winter the old agriculture boy in me is glad to see the rain. Still, more snow is possible. My sister points out gardeners should wait until Mothers Day for planting seedlings to be safe.