Thank You Mr. President

 Today, President Biden announced he would not run for re-election.  He stated his support for and officially endorsed Vice President Kamala Harris as the Democratic candidate for President.  Historic.  

I know you are disappointed Mr. President.  You have served long and honorably as a Senator, Vice President and President of the United States.  I know you feel the stakes are high.  I imagine you feel a bit like Justice Ginsberg felt as she trudged doggedly on in her position hoping to outlive the Trump Presidency.  She ultimately did not have the final say.  I don't want you to burn yourself out and leave nothing for your family.  You have done enough, Mr. President.  

I credit you with having been able to return to service and serv out my years through to retirement.  Because of your gently push to President Obama, my wife will be able to be buried with me in a VA approved cemetery or live on my benefits should I pass before her.  You had a huge part in restoring dignity and honor to my marriage - that I was even able to be married.  To you I owe very much.  I am rather choked up because your efforts did not go unnoticed and I cannot bear that you should think less of yourself for having to cede over your hopes to another very qualified person who is where she is because of your wisdom.  

Thank you Mr. President.  I am proud to know that your signature is on recognition of retirement.  

From Sod to Stone: A Makeover for the Back Entrance

Today I set a lofty goal of clearing out the sod from in front of the porch to prepare for the 2 tons of D1 aggregate ready to be put down on the dirt. First, I had to figure out how to get the 500 pound sod removal tool off of the trailer that I rented to haul it.  I used lots of rachet straps.  Then, I had to figure out how to operate it. Yes, the nice man showed me how to start it and run the slicing blade that cuts through the sod.  He did not tell me how to do it.  Luckily, there was a QRL located on the device with instructions. I watched the video and started cutting sod.  It was the hardest thing I have ever tried to do with a tool.  I dumped it once.  Thankfully, Lori was there to help me lift it back upright.   

I found out you cannot start a cut from an area that has already been cut.  Its awful.  The vibrations are tremendous and my shoulders still ached.  Once I figured that out, I found a rhythm and managed to get the sod cut, and the machine back to the rental place within the four hour time limit.  

After I delivered the horrible, fat sod cutter back to Sunbelt Rental, I picked some energy drinks and went back home to move several hundred pounds of chunked up sod.  It thought I would never get it all moved.  My back was screaming by the time I finished and place the tarp on the dirt to keep the dogs out.

I gutted it out and moved all but a tiny bit of sod near the front gate.  I need to dig out the edges and place the bricks scalloped side down.  In addition, I still need to dig down another inch into the remaining sod.  I have enough gravel to cover the area in three inches of rock.  I will have to rent a tamper to pack it in tight or risk it getting kicked up with the snow blower.  

I curved the edges so make mowing easier.  I will like this when it is done.  The house will definitely have a better vibe after all the work we have accomplished over the short summer.  
 

The Old Chicken Coup

I am remodeling the old chicken coup:  the floor, the roof and the tool hangers and the door.   The coup was used for years as a chicken coup.   

The floor is composed of years of chicken poop that has broken down into a fine grain of soil that gets mucky when wet.  The tools and equipment sink down into it.

I had two tons of D1 aggregate delivered to the house to pack onto the prepared floor.  I removed three inches of the old flooring and put it into the soil compost to enrich it.

The first load onto the floor packed down very nicely and looks good.  I will use the ATV and trailer to haul the remainder of the gravel to the shed.

 

The plastic corrugated roof leaks.  I pulled the entire thing down, put up new crosspieces to support the corrugation, reinstalled it and sealed all the cracks and holes. 

The tool hangers need to be redone.  I have the tools laid out in the yard in the new pattern that will make better use of the wall space.   

The shed remodel will allow Lori to park the new Cub Cadet riding lawn mower in the old shed which has been renamed as the Cub Cadet Coup.  The door must be widened to 58" to accommodate the width of the deck and the mulcher plug.  I will knock out the one support, stiffen the upper support and rebuild the door.  I hope my carpentry skills are still sharp enough for the task.  

The project should take about a week if my back holds up under the strain of moving so much gravel.  I have wanted to do this for years but never had the time.  

When all is said and done the coup will have a water tight roof, a new compacted gravel floor, a newly arranged tool wall and a door large enough to allow us to park our lawnmowers in a protected space.  We might even get the snow blower inside the coup.

Freedom, Compost and a Garden Plot: The Journey Continues

       The VW bug represents the sense of freedom everyone needs to feel alive and connected to the world even if they never fill up one tank or take one trip to a single destination.  We need to know we could pack up and go if we wanted to, which is often enough to help us push through life challenges  

    The compost embodies our constant attempts to recycle our mistakes, failures, and shortfalls into a medium that will feed our next dream and the efforts it inspires in us to improve our lives.  We take the ashes of a particularly spectacular crash-and-burn event and mix them into the sod of our souls then let the pressure of life and our sorrows convert them into a nutrient-rich humus to bolster our heart as we plunge into the next endeavor. 

The garden of our souls must be tended relentlessly.  We add a dash of some life events here to raise the pH and subtract a weed or two determined to choke out that which we love and cherish about ourselves.  We are vigilant to seek out negative life forms that might extinguish the life that emerges from our carefully cultured growing medium.  We hoe and rake, weed and futz seeking to draw the best seeds life has to offer and keep out all that would sour us and send dreams fleeing for better plots.  Once in a while, invite someone in to help with the daily chores and you, them.  Keep your tools sharp, well-oiled, and ready to serve you.    

    Get some dirt on your skin and let the sweat run down your brow.  Freedom requires work.  Compost requires determination to recycle whatever sorrows, tragedies, and negative experiences into something that will eventually grow dreams.  Gardens demand direct, hands-on, constant attention lest we be swamped by weeds and our soil turn to dust and blow away.  Create the compost.  Feed the garden.  Pack up the fruits and veg of your labors into the vehicle of your dreams and go!  Somewhere.  Anywhere!  Be blessed and know God loves you.  

 

Hounds of Happiness

 

Look at this face.  This is the face of a happy hound.  I was very nervous about how I would take care of him when Lori first dropped him off in his box with a note that said, "Hi, my name is Baxter.  Will you be my mommy?"  I had just returned from a TDY to protect America from 'Merica, and knew that there would be more TDYs like in the near future as the election and the inauguration drew near.  I was correct and ended up all over the states.  

It all worked out.  We potty trained him and I got to enjoy watching my little 'tater grow up into a fine specimen of dachshund: a happy hound.  

    Yesterday was my fifty-fifth birthday.  Lori bought us tickets to see the Foo Fighters in concert at the Dena'ina Convention Center.  No seats.  Standing room only.  We showed proof of vaccination and arrived early to get a seat up close to the stage.  That was my first experience in the "mosh" pit.  

    We arrived inside the main area at six-thirty p.m.  The concert started at nine p.m. and ended around eleven-thirty p.m.  I was surprised that I was able to stand on my tired little feet for five straight hours.  We had a bit of a rough start when we realized that we were in the middle of a larger group of people who were all well on their way to being drunk.  One woman had to leave before the concert started.   The band was fantastic.  I have never heard of such a tight-knit group of musicians before last night.  They executed what my old chorus teacher used to describe as the pause that served as its own note.   

I thoroughly enjoyed being surrounded by other people kind enough to get vaccinated as a way to reunite with other people.  I didn't worry at all.  We wore our masks.  I was very happy.  

I barely remember this trip and all of these people in this picture. This was taken twenty-two years ago just after I met Lori. I remember the shorter, blond male, but not his name I fear.  Oh, yes, Harry, Harry Evans.  The man wearing jeans is, I believe, named Brian.  I ran with him and the fellow in the red shirt and the tan pants in the National Guard Marathon in Lincoln, Nebraska earlier that year.   We had a lot of fun as I recall.  I was very nervous about my part of the race, leg eight of an eight part race.  The race began in Skagway, Alaska at midnight and ended in Whitehorse, Canada later that same afternoon.  I do not recognize myself at all.  I know that I was exceedingly happy at the time having landed a job with the Guard as an electrician and having met Lori.  I was blissfully happy then, and busy, very busy. 

We drove to Skagway in a mid-size class C camper from Anchorage.  I recall there being many large frost heaves somewhere near Glenallen which was at the time still a well populated little town along the Alaska Highway.  Its shrunk now.  The collapse of the overland tourist trade has taken its toll on all the along the route. 

I think wecken as a