Morning ....hmmmmmmm

It's amazing the effect it can have....

A good nights sleep, a very hot shower, a big fluffy white bathrobe, and watching the sun come up....

I feel pretty good just about now.


Then.... an hour or two later... as the day starts winding up... there are reminders. Things that point out.... where my heart really is. Then, John lee hooker joins the sunrise on the mornings plate. Now.... appetite fades and only this cup of coffee cuts through. Good blues guitar, strong fresh coffee... and thoughts.

Thoughts are funny critters. They can shape a life, or tear it down.
The same day, the same sunrise, even the same fine coffee.... and just the entrance of a few thoughts can re-color everything. For something that's without weight, thoughts can really bear down heavily. For something without substance, thoughts can filter the light just so. The treacherous mind, perhaps seeking an open path, first bumps against every closed door and each blocked road.

Longing is, for some
The path chosen by dame fate
Shaping hour and day

Turmoil

Lost in the turmoil
Swept away in the moment
Gasp, touching her soul

Moment lost in time
Just two voices together
Breathless in joining

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAM!!

Had to get up early and post this....

WHO HOO! Today is Tamara's birthday!
How old? What age should a woman be before she is truly... Beautiful..... intelligent.... witty.... and just generally to die for? The perfect age.........

She has also graced us with a song lyric made for the political time. Perfect comment..... just exactly right.... Go check it out.

Peace

Peace is centering
within a pale shadow world
Centering is peace

A surprise day off....

Well, last night my back was twinging. No big deal, but I knew I had done something wrong.

Bed time... after midnight, but got to sleep. 2am... pain got me up. 1000mg of Tylenol and an hour later, back to bed. Back up at 5am. Sigh....
Gave up, called off for the day, and made an apt with our old doctor for Saturday morning. This time the ache doesn't seem to be going away on it's own.

So... that sets the stage...... a day off with pain, please hold the guilt.
Should be a crappy day, right? Stuck in the house.... Feeling guilty about not being at work, Fred Thompson dropped out, blah blah.

But everyone else left. I was alone, but for dogs. Nobody to bug me.
Then, chatted with a friend this morning while discovering a very kewl internet radio site (blogged below). Then this afternoon, spent time talking with
my best friend in the world. It was..... good. Life giving.

Frankly.... I feel pretty darn good for being home all day with a buggered up back.
In fact.... I kind of feel sorry for anyone who's not me.
Sorry about that.... wish I could help... I really do.
Simple fact is I am one darn lucky dude and that can't be shared.

They are going to look at me funny tomorrow, at work, when they ask
how I'm doing and how my back is. All I'll be able to do is grin and
walk on down the hall..... They'll probably think I lost my mind....

Lol...... oh well.... so be it!

Friends...if you like music like I do...

Just check this out. No pressure....
But ....this made my day..... with help from a friend.
http://www.pandora.com/

Happy little rat dog, not

Moments before eviction, Queen Daisy, AKA 'Rat Dog' was heard to bark: "Oh crap, he's home! Where the BLEEP did he come from!?!"

Carteach0 = 10,000

I know in the blogoverse, 10,000 is just feet wet for
some gun toting vixen, or a even a semi legible
teen vegetarian unicyclist, but in MY world
10,000 visitors is a lot.

Carteach0 hit that number some time tonight.
Mini whoo hoo for me!

Angel

There's an angel, beautiful
an angel with a human heart
mine, wrapped in her hands
softly gripped in steel hard love

On the box tonight......

There's an angel, with her hand on my head
She says I've got nothing to fear

Happiness is.....

First.... finding out your son does NOT have cancer.

Second.... seeing your old dog walk in the morning, after he would not get up the night before.

Third.... hitting the target at 200 yards with a non-magnified 1-moa holographic sight using cheap import ammunition, while shivering like mad in a 20 degree wind.

In response....

A comment further down, so to the point, has been on my mind.

Why is it, with such complicated and busy lives, all that matters can boil down to just one person? How is it the whole wide beautiful world can fade... become an echo... a shadow of what is, when that one person special to you steps onto the scene?

Priorities and perception come into play. Re-evaluation happens. Lives change.

Why are you reading this?

When you could be laughing your butt off?
Go to You Tube, and search: Jasper Carrott

Go to the bathroom first.

Followup Sunday Morn food porn

Ohhh baby...

Sunday Morn food porn

Okay, so it's not done yet...
Thats no reason not to share....

Portabello mushrooms sauted in onion butter, with kosher salt and fresh ground black pepper.

In the pan, whipped eggs with cream, caramelized onions, slabs of muenster cheese, a touch of garlic, kosher salt, more fresh ground pepper, and the mushrooms floating on top.

All sliding on dabs of real butter, then baked at 350 till firm and browned.

On the side, already in the oven... Baked potatoes sliced into gobbets, with chunks of caramelized onions and pools of lightly salted butter, all stirred into the hot cast iron and baking into heavenly home fries. You know the kind... crispy on the outside, creamy on the inside....
Sweet with the onions.... tinge of heat from the black pepper...

I'll post pictures of the finished...

Nice morning...

Woodsmoke on the air
Sunlight streaming through the glass
Sharing with a friend

It's a blues kind of night

I guess most people have one sometime. Just a John Lee Hooker kind of evening, blues all the way.

Every once in a while, no matter how good the individual moments are, there's a day when it all seems to fall apart in the end. What should be magical takes on shades of gray. Small problems swell, combine, join forces to overwhelm. All thats great and good together falls just short of salvation.

Sometimes, only a single voice has the power to put it all in perspective, and that voice isn't there. It's bound to happen.... even if only when the blue moon shines. Silence in the wilderness, leaving only echoes of peace, like the faded edge of a memory.

That's what the blues smells like... like woodsmoke in the wind, when you are cold and lost. You know there's a life giving fire someplace, but the shifting wind steals direction and hides the way. Someplace, a warming fire waits, but where? You can't fight the wind, just seek shelter away from it.

When the center shifts, and all is surreal, then is when alternate universes come home to roost. All the what ifs, long past. Each path not taken, re-emerges. The voyage missed, love passed by, and decision second guessed. All these and more come to haunt when the blues sink home, given a new lease on life.

When the sun falls and the only light breaking the cold dark is a flickering candle... that is when you realize how thin the thread is. What separates reality from dream and happiness from soul stealing ache. Just a wrong word, a phrase said in the wrong tone and the magic is undone. Doubts wait in the wings, nibbling on forgotten fears.

Some nights, sleep is not a friend. Not every dream is a good one. Nightmares are dreams too. When the line between reality and dream blurs, that is a not a good time to taunt the creatures that live past the edge. In the darkness behind closed eyelid, each doubt expands, growing claws and ragged fur. Fangs dripping with saliva made of liquid recrimination. When the only escape is flight towards wakefulness, why sleep at all?

No.. on such a night.... such a blues ridden night.... such a lonely night..... it's best to stay awake. Wait for the sunlight to bring a new day, new songs, new voices.

Drowsiness over morning coffee is a small price to pay for surviving a night of the blues.

Some stories are real, or could be......

I once told my best friend a story about going to the river. Today it was cold, bleak..... and a good day for a walk. Down the closed lane, about half a mile, there is a very special place.

Here.... there be eagles.

This day, the eagles soared in greeting. Spiraling over the river, passing within feet of each other, the birds showed what true enjoyment in life is all about.

For my friend.... images...... because what can I say that's not said better by an eagle on the wing?

Too little, way too late
That horse has fallen to still
Now you walk, and cry

Why? Because thats the mood tonight....

Haiku voting is open!

At All Atwitter....

Ok, I'm manly enough to not only eat quiche, but cook it too.
I can wear any color I please, and dare any man to say less of me for it.
And.... I can write Haiku if I wish to.

In fact, you can see it at Sparrows site.... and vote for mine if you wish.....
*I* voted for Jeans.... I think hers is better than mine.
Matter of taste I guess.

Topic: Work
My entry:

Teaching is not work
It is life, passed hand to hand
Touching the future


And the winner is: HollyB, with this astoundingly good entry:

Social Work. Standing
in waters of human pain
undertow takes me

A moments turning in....

Her breath, blows softly
setting fire to my heart

Her words, settling deep
nourishing my very soul

Her time, so precious
better than any gift

Her heart, so filled
embraces me with love

Drifting off, holding her
only in my dreams

Speaking of youth.....

A memory from long ago... a gift from a real gentleman.

When I was young... I had a friend, a best friend... Guido.

Gui's family welcomed me like another son, to my eye. Small family dinners at their home called for forty or fifty seats.... but I ate many, many meals at their table with only a few seats. Mom, Dad, Gui, his brother, and I. Grandma would not sit at the table... she fussed, cooked.... spoke kind words in Italian.... and smiled a smile of peace upon the world.

Grandmas chicken cutlets...... Oh my..... ambrosia......
Gui's dad made a fettuccine that opened my eyes to what food should taste like.
His mom..... one of the sweetest women in the world.... would make a graham cracker pudding cake, simply because I would be in the house long enough for it to set. She'd bring me the pan, with a fork...... :) An angel....

One Saturday... Guido's Dad took him, his brother, and I out for an evening.
We ate at the finest restaurant I had ever seen.... down in Philly.... then to the Forrest theater. He had gotten us tickets to Fiddler on the Roof with Zero Mostel.
I had never been to a live stage show... my first........ and to this day the one I measure all others by.

I have never forgotten the kindness that family showed me, the lessons his father taught me as if I was his own kin.... Days at the hunting cabin.... Parties at the house.... driving Guido here and there.... I miss those days.....

Can I get an Amen?

Take note: Munchkin Wrangler's new blog address

To his readers, please take note:
Munchkin wrangler has a new blog address.
Best get this marked right away, rather than miss
even one post!

Squeaky is thoughtful... and thinking

Squeakie, human and student, is thoughtful today.
This is worth reading, and thinking about, and answering should you choose.

An evening off............

Mother nature looked upon her son, Carteach0, and said "Boy, why are you working twelve hour days? Is that how I taught you to enjoy life?"

I replied "Mom, gotta do what I gotta do. People need schooling, so I teach. I need classes, so I attend.... just doing what I gotta do".

Mom then said "Carteach0, sit down and shut up. You are taking this evening off. I'm sending a snow storm your way... with ice, slush, sleet, and all manner of goodness. Chaos will descend upon your world and your duties will be forgiven this night. Go rest, or else,"

Then it snowed. It also sleeted, slushed, rained, and just generally yucked.
In the midst of two weeks of twelve hour days..... a sudden evening off to watch the snow fall. With a hot cup of wonderful coffee from a friend, no pressing requirements except fatherly worries.... it's time to relax.

Ahhhhhhhh........................... Thanks Mom.

Baebes in the background tonight......

Lyrics:
I have wist, sin I couthe meen,
That children hath by candle light
Her shadewe on the wal iseen,
And ronne thereafter all the night.

Bisy aboute they han ben
To catchen it with all here might,
And whon they catchen
It best wolde wene,
Sonnest it shet out of her sight.

The shadowe catchen they ne might,
Fo no lines that they couthe lay.
This shadewe I may liken aright
To this world and yesterday.

Translation:
Ever since I could remember, I have known
That children, by candle light,
Have seen a shadow on the wall
And have chased it all night through

Busily, they have tried
With all their might, to catch it.
And when they most
Expect to catch it
It shoots most quickly out of sight.

This shadow never shall be caught
In any trap they lay.
This shadow in the likeness,
Of this world and yesterday.

The language of silence

Silence








Silence.... is a language of it's own. To each person it speaks it's own words.
In some, silence is the enemy, to be avoided lest it reveal hated emptiness.
To others, silence is a friend, allowing beauty to form and flourish.

Between people, silence is a defining source of reflection. A mirror to a relationship. While one pair may chatter incessantly, leaving no gap where doubt may creep in, others live a different pairing.

In a few, a very few, a rare few.....silence is a language of love.

There are those who can sit together, hours on end, reading old books.
Not a word spoken, just the odd chuckle, a sigh, a glance. Such lovers can
communicate far better with a silent glance than any grand poet can
after slaving over fatted sonnets.

Silence... like a welcome breeze on a scorching day.... shared between two who
need no spoken words to communicate. Silence, warm silence, enveloping their world and forming walls no outsider can break through.

Nothing more that a simple touch, without a word, passing in it's spark a message of love thats timeless and tested. Words, no matter how artfully arranged, pale when faced with such silence. Quiet full of meaning, brimming with emotion, solid with shared joy.

Silence... a language shared by so few, such a lucky and rare few.

Blogging shall be light.........

Sorry friends..... blogging shall be light this week.
Long days, long nights, deep worries.

Idle thoughts....

Some days, past conversations come back to visit, like
old friends stopping by. Pulling up a chair on the porch,
glass of tea in hand.... to remind of words passed.

During the day.... a sound or a phrase can trigger the memory,
then it swims to the surface, aligning with our thoughts and
joining past to present. Sometimes.... when the person spoken
with had a deep hold on our soul.... the recall can stop us dead
in our tracks. Taking over perception, like a hand on your heart,
warming it with a touch.

I've heard it said no one is truly dead, as long as they remain in their friends
memories. Even as that may be true, so is this: No one is truly
separated from you, when you carry them tight to your heart.

Each word, a gift that comes back again and again, digging
deeper with each refrain. Each moment spent together, a vision
which later joins again.

Phil collins...... a song that stays on my mind right now....

I know, this isn't really blogging....
But this is whats going through my head right now.
Over... and over.....

Tonights mood, brought to you be John Lee Hooker and Bonnie Raitt

Oh...Yes.....

What is heaven?

A vision drives this post..... and brings the question.

What is heaven?
What is... the happiest thought you can imagine?

I have found mine....

My vision of heaven is that one special person, in a place where
love is at home, and peace reins. There is a good dog to share life with,
and each meal is an adventure. Pleasure is at every turn, and challenges too.
My heaven has no one sitting on clouds, nor playing harps and singing chorales.

Just a home, with happiness, and love, and peace.

Not every day is sunny and blue, but each is not stormy. No matter
the color of the sky, my loves warmth fills the gap. Together, fear
fades to a pale memory and each joy can be savored as a gift.
Each storm cloud a beautiful painting, each blustery wind a gift of a special song.

While life may be a joyful battle, love blankets all, making each day
worth a lifetime. Each day.... a day in heaven.

In the end, all else considered... my vision of heaven is wrapped
up in the body of one person. Words fail at this point, for heaven exists in
a touch... a spark..... that only two will ever feel.

Words fail......

Hasty vulture stew.... food pron again

Dinner this evening..

I call it "Hasty Vulture Stew".
Named such, because it's quick and easy, for a good beef stew, and the youngens hover like vultures till it's done, then attack.

This appears when I have left over beef around. Not a true beef stew, simmered for hours, stirred with love.... But a quick stew for the masses.




Into the dutch oven goes a large bag of frozen stew veggies, two cans of new potatoes, a large can of cream of mushroom soup, a matching can of water, all the leftover beef I have, cubed small, some kosher salt, and fresh pepper.

Lid her up, then bake at 375 for an hour.

After an hour, add a teaspoon of dried rosemary. Stir it well.
Then top with a layer of flaky Grands biscuits. Back in the same oven for another 15 minutes (lid off). Pull it out, yell "Stews Done!", then back quickly away from the pot.

I call it 'hasty' because prep time is all of five minutes. Cooking time does not count.

Um... there is none left.

A clue to the mood....

Friends, THIS is the mood I am in this evening....
Beware!

A fine way to spend a day....

A note from a friend talks of the joy, the freedom, of just
going for a ride. A lost art, spending the day on the road just riding to
see what there is to see.

My family did that when I was a kid... maybe it's an old time joy?
With me, it's one that never left. It caught root and stayed.
'Going for a ride' has always been one of my favorite ways to spend a day,
a night, a week.......

My first car, a 1969 Chevelle, red two door and manual transmission....
that car saw thousands of hours on the road with no destination.
Cruising along, windows down, listening to only the engine.
Evenings cool, breeze smelling of fresh cut hay, all the days hardness
fading away.

Sometimes, long into the night, riding twisting back roads to the lake
just to sit on the dock and look at the stars. The moon was an old friend,
along for a ride of his own. Deer, eyes shining brightly, watched me pass
along my travels most nights.

Sometimes with friends. Rarely, a girl....... each mile passed, usually in silence.
On occasion, music played. Music of the day.... hard rock.... southern rock...
But when I was with only me.... usually silence. Except... when the mood was right... this could be heard from the speaker:

Because.......... it fits

Shared dreams all our lives
Fears revealed now put to an end
Years not lost, but necessary
Preparing the way

May it be

May it be an evening star
Shines down upon you
May it be as darkness falls
Your heart will be true
You walk a lonely road
Oh, how far you are from home

Mornië utúlië (Darkness has come)
Believe and you will find your way
Mornië alantië (Darkness has fallen)
A promise lives within you now

May it be the shadows call
Will fly away
May it be your journey on
To light the day
When the night is overcome
You may rise to find the sun

Mornië utúlië (Darkness has come)
Believe and you will find your way
Mornië alantië (Darkness has fallen)
A promise lives within you now

A promise lives within you now

Mongo!

I used to do some cowboy action shooting..
Under the handle of:

Need a bright moment this morning...

And one of my students filled the bill....

He is about to make Eagle Scout!

Damn, life is good sometimes.

Ladies should read this.... actually everyone should.

Lawdog has an educational post up about self defense.
Things like this ought to be mandatory schooling...

Worth your time to read, and think............

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Blogging will be light.....

Most likely, blogging will be light for a few days....

I am teaching day and night most of the week, and 14-16 hour days leave
little other time but for eating and sleeping.

Take care in the mean time, my friends... I will still surf when able...

For a friend..... laughter

Because laughter is one of the best gifts, especially when given in love...

I would love to have seen this.... or been in one....

Fifteen C-17 Globemaster IIIs from Charleston Air Force Base, S.C., fly over the city of Charleston's Arthur J. Ravenel Bridge Dec. 20 during a training exercise. (U.S. Air Force photo/Staff Sgt. James L. Harper Jr.)

US Military now speaks with the voice of god... (small g)

This is interesting..... lots of fascinating openings to a good commander...

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Well, the trap shooters might have the range....

But do they have anything like THIS for lunch? Bet they are having moldy old semi warmed hot dogs. Where as here, in Carteach0 manor, the master has forced the kitchen to give up this....

Slow roasted roast beef with mushroom and cracked pepper gravy, mushrooms sauted in the beef fond, and steamed asparagus. with butter.

If you click the image, it will enlarge, if you can stand it.

Breda reminded me of this ...... Range story

Breda posts about bringing some new ladies into the fold....

(lets here a round of applause for Breda!)

Her post reminded me of something that happened this summer...

I love to shoot, and am usually alone when I do. Oh, others might be on the range but I have no one to go with, so..... alone.

Now, I am not a real friendly person. Just my nature. I'd rather bite now, and sniff later. But... on the range I get more sociable. That has led to more than a few occasions where I lay aside my plans and spent the hours helping out someone else. Usually a new shooter, or someone needing coaching.

Well.... this summer one of those happened that was a bit more memorable.

There was an older fellow, maybe 65 or so, on the long pistol range. He was shooting a .380 Bersa, clearly just bought. The plastic case was laid out, a few boxes of shells, an old pair of binoculars.... He was not having a real good time.
No holes in the paper, firing that small pistol from thirty yards.

I wandered over and introduced myself, and we started talking. It helped that I still had my fancy colt holstered on one side, magazines on the other. The pistol looks good and people ask about it.... He did too. It broke the ice well....

Anyway.... after a while.... as we talked about moving up to the seven yard line, getting a bigger target, how this lever thingy was a safety.... all the good points.....
he revealed a bit about himself.

He had always wanted to shoot, but his wife would never let him have a gun in the house. The catch in his voice made me ask, and the hunch was right. His wife had died that month.... and he had bought a gun.

I spent several hours with him, showing him safe handling, drawing him out, asking about his wife, getting him to talk. Sometimes, it's good to talk......
He loved his wife dearly... and his pain was clear. I had a very bad feeling about why he had originally bought that pistol. I also had the feeling he wasn't a man to do anything sloppy, and wanted to know how to work the pistol correctly.

We ended up under the trees, just talking, mostly about his wife. He unloaded a lot.. for speaking to a stranger. It was a hot day, and I was sweating it out, more ways than one. I told him I was at the range fairly often, usually alone, and would love to have someone to shoot with... and gave him my number. He didn't offer his.

I never did hear from him.... but maybe more importantly, I never heard about him in the paper either.... and I damn well looked.

I think I did some good that day. Hope I did.......