Tag Archives: country life

The TimeWarpVille Saga – Other Local Attractions – Food – Corn – Rain and Wireless Phoneless

Posted on August 22, 2012 by | 2 comments

As good as Barbeque’s likely to get

The locals I talked to all seemed to agree Lum’s is either the best barbeque in town, or tasty enough to balance the high cost of Cooper’s, down the road.  I’ve eaten there three times now, found them to be clean, friendly, and surrounded by an ambiance unusual enough to be almost distracting.  Good food, Lum’s. 

As I finished my meal an older guy with a cane walked past my table.  He sported a hip-holster with a Glock, ready for action.  If I’d finished earlier, and if I’d arrived in town heeled, I’d have waited for him outside and shouted, “Fill your hand you SOB!”

Then he could have shot me down, gazed sadly at my bullet-riddled corpse and muttered, “Just another young tough trying to build a reputation.”

It would have provided a great denouement.

This could be a lot more important than you imagine

There’s corn here to be had.

A worthy cause that gives no offense except to those [such as myself] who don’t even like to be told what kind of day to have.

Too small for Clark Kent

A futuristic wireless, cordless, phoneless booth.

We middle-of-the-roaders try to be there for one another

And a bull trotting along the centerline blocking the highway for a mile or more.  I took him to be another, spiritual kinfolk to myself, called to serve on the Big Jury, and headed home unrequited.

Old Jules

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Posted in 2012, Adventure, Communication, Country Life, Texas

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Done Deal Down in the Middle of Nowhere

Posted on August 21, 2012 by | 6 comments

Good morning readers.  Thanks for coming by for a read.

Drove that house out here at speeds that our great-great grandaddies would have fainted and revived themselves to know.   By 19th Century standards it was a rush.  By 20th Century standards it slowed down some.  But it came down the 19th Century standards road from the pavement to the cabin as smoothly as a buckboard or stagecoach would have. 

Didn’t require many miles to discover I’m gonna need to install some helpers for the rear leaf springs.  Or replace the old ones.  A cross-wind at 55 adds thrills a person couldn’t find on a drag strip or Daytona speedway.

Now, whenever this is, I’m going to have to see if it will climb back out of here, drive over to the County Seat at TimeWarpVille, Texas.  Maybe turn loose a few criminals if I get selected for jury duty.

Civic duties, civic duties, civic duties!  Just drives me crazy!

Old Jules

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Posted in 2012, Adventure, Transportation, Trucks

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Down Here Where It’s Sane

Posted on August 19, 2012 by | 12 comments

Good morning readers. Thanks for coming by for a read this morning.

I try not to allow myself to get too involved in the kinds of things real people trouble themselves over, but for the past several months Real Reality’s been poking me and pinching me on the rump.  Real Reality’s an ego-maniac, thinks it’s important and if a person isn’t careful it can convince him it has something to do with anything, make a considerable nuisance of itself.

All these oak trees falling, others threatening to fall on inconvenient and distracting places.  Various new roof leaks.  A number of other nagging items not worth mentioning.  They’ve been taps on the shoulder by Real Reality I’ve suspected might be followed by a round-house to the jaw if I didn’t duck and dodge.

So, a few days ago when I came across a 1983 Toyota RV I can manage to squeeze me and the cats into [out from under trees] I felt more relief than I expected of myself.  I can quit wondering where I’m going to live, at least structurally and what I’m going to drive transportationally.  Opens the doors to more palatable geographic questions.

I’ve a number of issues I’ll need to wrap up here, depending on all manner of non-ponderables, but if things required it I could be out of here in a couple of weeks.  Or, if I’m left to piddle around doing it, a couple of months.  But one-way-or-another the engine’s running and the Coincidence Coordinators are giving their approval for me to get the hell out of Dodge before the snow flies out west.

The road mightn’t be brick, mightn’t be yellow, but there’s an exit ramp coming and if I can get this thing slowed down enough I’m going to cut myself loose from all this pesky Real Reality rushing around making a nuisance of itself. 

Old Jules

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Posted in 2012, America, Transportation, Trucks

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Stick’em Up

Posted on August 16, 2012 by | 42 comments

My favorite manip of one of Jeanne’s art pieces

Hi readers.

The email forwards are telling me you fine, upstanding citizens are giving serious thought to electing a vice-king who’s committed to robbing me of the only financial resource I’ve got:  my Social Security pension check.  Paid in by me longer than most of you’ve been alive, by me and matched by those paying me.

Hokay.  For myself, I honestly don’t give much of a damn.  I’ve lived long enough and hard enough to be confident I can survive as long as I need to.  It ain’t a big deal in that regard.

But I’ve got four cats here depending on me to buy food for them.  Cats I value higher than I value the lives of the multitudes of folks who are venal enough, stingy enough, or indifferent enough to tacitly or actively select candidates who don’t give a damn about my cats.

All over this country there are people in similar circumstances, probably placing a higher value on the continuation of their own lives than I do, depending on those SS checks monthly to pay the rent, the mortgage, buy food for themselves.  People who paid in, and their employers paid in on the promise there’d be an eventual return when the cows all came home.

Those people grew up in a different time with an entirely different set of values than exist today.  They aren’t as accustomed being pushed around and bullied as the folks who’d help rob them might wish.

I don’t know how they’ll react if you rob them.  I don’t even know how I’ll personally react.  But I will tell you this:

Back me into a corner and take away my livelihood, force me to kill my cats as an alternative to having them starve, and a different man will come out the other end.  A man who has not a damned thing to lose other than his life, which there probably ain’t a lot left of anyway.

So do whatever you damned well please, vote in whatever greedy animal you wish to do your robbing chores.  But keep in mind there’s a piece of the population out there you’re deliberately and calculatedly choosing to back into corners without gaining a damned thing for yourselves except smug satisfaction.

And the folks you plan on doing it to are tougher than you, smarter than you, potentially one-hell-of-a-lot meaner than you, and almost certainly won’t take kindly to being mugged.

You don’t have the imagination to care, but life has a way of providing what the imagination doesn’t supply.

Old Jules

42 Comments

Posted in 2012, Communication, Government, Human Behavior, Senior Citizens, Social Security, Survival

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Called for Jury Duty – The Dog Won’t Hunt

Posted on August 15, 2012 by | 16 comments

Just got an email from Gale telling me there’s a post card up there calling me to jury duty on August 21.  Gives me a good excuse to drive over to the County Seat, take a fishing pole along.  Nice little lake on one end of town and there’s no point wasting a trip.

Unless they’re crazy enough to select me to serve on a jury.  In which case some accused will walk free, some traffic violator will be spared a fine, or someone lawsuiting someone else will have to depend on the luck of the draw without my vote in his/her favor.

Ain’t nobody going to serve any jail time, pay any fine for anything at all on my say-so.

Although, I suppose if the right person happens to be snarling after the right other individual or corporation for the right civil offense the strength of my convictions might be sorely tested.  More on gut feel than evidence, though.  I try not to make unbiased judgements against my fellow humans.

So most likely I’ll get in some fishing.

Old Jules

16 Comments

Posted in 2012, Country Life, Government, Human Behavior, Texas

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The Fantastic Foreign Flip-Flop Flim-Flam

Posted on August 10, 2012 by | 9 comments

There’s a grave crisis looming, readers.  Time was when good American foots were protected by good American-made flip-flops.  They never failed.  Those old timey flip-flops lasted until they’d absorbed so much foot odor a hog would turn up its nose at them.  Normal landfills rejected them, demanded they be treated as hazardous waste.

But that’s all changed.  You see how those straps come out?  See how the layers of soles separate, sneakily intended to render the entire thing useless?  That’s the Asian plan for taking over the flip-flop world.

They think there’s nothing a good American can do about it, but they’re wrong.   If you can remember to pick up some Gorilla Glue you can make those babies run until they stink, just like the good American ones did.  In the top pic you can see those had been glued, but not sufficiently and the soles peeled open elsewhere.

I ran out of glue in the process, so I’ve had to store up my flim-flammed-flip-flops until I can remember to pick up another bottle.  Which is going to need to be soon, because I’m down to two [2] intact flip-flops, both for the same foot.

Next trip to town for sure, I’m getting me some Gorilla Glue, get my foots back into some respectable footware for two different feet.

Old Jules

9 Comments

Posted in 2012, America, Country Life, Current Issues, Redneck Repairs, RedneckRepairs

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Old Sol – August 10, 2012 – Praying Him Up

Posted on August 10, 2012 by | Leave a comment

Me:  HIYIPP big guy.  Time to get your honeybee ass in gear and start climbing.  Got no time for your backtalk and finger twiddling this morning.  I’ve got important things on my mind.

Old Sol:  Yeah, I’m awake over here.  Sometimes your cheek causes me to faint and have to revive myself, but it’s never kept me from doing my job.

Me:  What you’re calling cheek, amigo, is just proper perspective.  You don’t have one because you’re too preoccupied with insignificant happenings that take too long to make any difference.

Old Sol:  I wonder why I bother.

Me:  Lately I’ve wondered if you’d mind skipping a day-or-three.  You’ve been doing your job a bit too anal for my tastes.  I’m not saying today.  We’ve already got things planned for today.  But how about we schedule something later this week?

Old Sol:  I swear it would be a relief.  I could use the sleep.

Me:  Let’s do it then.  I’ll have my people talk to your people.

Old Sol:  Sure thing.  By the way, you are one weird duck.  Time was you used to pray me up.  How’d we get from there to here?

Me:  Other things just got more important.  A person can set his watch by what you’re going to do, but there’s stuff going on closer in requires hands-on attention.  There’s a popular movement to put you on a time-clock and forget about you.   My cup’s empty and I need to feed the cats.  Just try to get everything right and do things on time today.  I’ve got no time to mess with you.

Old Jules

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Posted in 2012, Astronomy, Human Behavior, Nature, Outdoors, Science

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Spang Blew It!

Posted on July 31, 2012 by | 2 comments

Good morning readers.  Thanks for coming by for a read this morning.

Having a running vehicle I can just brush the cats off of, scare the chickens out from underneath and drive somewhere is surprisingly uplifting.  Not having to borrow Little Red wouldn’t seem to the disinterested observer to be that big a deal, but it is.

Got me feeling uppidy in ways I’m going to need to treat with circumspection and discipline so’s I don’t run myself dry buying gasoline for trips I wouldn’t have made in a borrowed machine.  But damn it feels good anyway.

Those trips to TimeWarpVille [Junction, Texas] trying to get something they’d accept at the courthouse as valid to transfer the title, trips to Kerrville trying to chase down the guy who sold it to me would have been frustrating teeth-grinding to me most of my life.  But they were pure joy, driving along looking at the country, looking at whatever, ignoring the 100+ F. wind blowing through the windows in favor of the freedom it represented.

So yesterday I thought of a reason to drive into Harper.  The day before I’d noticed a piece of the right front tire peeled back on the side, probably something on the driveway flipped up and cut it.  So I was being careful, occupying 30-35 MPH when it blew.  Got her stopped without ruining the rim.

Sweated blood and bullets getting the car up on the jack.  Crumpled a piece of the underbody before I found the secret, unlikely place the top of the jack has to go to lift it.  Discovered the spare is a wheelbarrow tire, which was under-inflated, but left part of an inch of inflated tire between the rim and the ground.  Inched that money-maker home at 2.5 miles per hour.

Gave me time to shoot gratitude affirmations for it all out to the Universe and Old Sol.  Because that blowout’s a major blessing.

When I pulled the tire off the brake disk rotor was exposed to me, badly eaten because there was nothing much like a pad.  Bare metal just grinding pleasant rings into the rotor.  A lot of people would probably replace that rotor, but I think I’ll try just buying pads.  No reason to get extreme, over-react, do anything dramatic. 

But if that tire hadn’t blown I’d never have noticed I had problem needed immediate attention, not to put off until the next Social Security pension check arrives to provide me a something for nothing entitlement [as these Texans are fond of calling it].

So today I’m going into Kerrville and buy me a spanking new tire, buy a set of brake pads, and even let the guys who sell me the tire put the new one on the ground.

Christmas.  It just don’t get much better than this.

Old Jules

2 Comments

Posted in 2012, Country Life, Kerrville, Outdoors, Social Security, Solitude, Texas

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Naked City in the Sticks

Posted on July 30, 2012 by | 21 comments

Good morning readers. Thanks for coming by for a read this morning.

I’ve resisted posting a blog entry about this incident a couple of days now.  Felt I needed to allow it to settle in my mind enough to think calmly and clearly about it.

I’ve explained before that the nearest property line is almost 1/4 mile away from here.  No line-of-sight to the nearest dwellings.  Woods, rough roads and rough country between here and the nearest neighbor.  Aside from Gale, no reason whatever for anyone to be anywhere near here, and Gale rarely comes, never without honking his horn at the top of the hill. [That bluelike speck right-of-center in the pic is the roof of the cabin.  The barely-visible white loop’s the turnaround.]

Sooooo.  A couple of days ago I’d just finished my afternoon solar shower, poured a couple of gallons of water over my head for a soapdown shampoo and rinse out in the driveway.  Went inside to towel off and stepped back outdoors onto the porch to let the sun finish things off.

“DAMMITTOHELLSHIT!”

A cammie 4-wheeler with two people aboard was creeping by about 30 feet from the porch.  I jumped back inside to throw on some trousers and by the time I got back outside it was gone.  Not a sign of whomever I was wanting to throw rocks at and shout lectures about respecting property lines and the not-to-be-aspired-to human trait of nosy intrusion.

Because that 4 wheeler wasn’t coming down the driveway.  It came from the direction of the chicken house.  Nothing in that direction for another quarter-mile to the north property boundary fence. 

Even though that new neighbor’s got 90-odd acres for himself and his family to fart around on knocking down trees and blasting away with every caliber firearm ever invented, 90 acres just isn’t big enough when a man’s richer than 18 inches up a bull’s ass.  Got rich early enough to get thinking he could run over everyone in reach, bluff whomever he couldn’t buy outright.

When he was coming down here trying to get me to go on wages working for him I had a vague suspicion this was the kind of thing he had in mind, ultimately.  Getting a leverage in place so’s he could do anything he pleased.  He’d already described every property and house within sight of here in enough detail to suggest he’d explored already what was none of his business.  Described it without blushing, as though it was a given.

Sometime during those visits he was making down here I asked permission to haul water from his well up beside the driveway, and he’d given permission.  His water’s nearer than Gale’s from here, and the road’s better.  I’d done it once already.

But after this incident I’ll be going back to hauling water from Gale’s.  And the only thing I’ve got to say to him about what happened the other day:

“Stay the hell away from this part of Gale’s property and keep the kids and grandkids away from it when they’re visiting.  One of the rare positive stereotypes about Texans is that they respect property lines.  Where the hell did you grow up?”

Says he reads this blog.  I hope he does.

Old Jules

21 Comments

Posted in 2012, Communication, Country Life, Homesteading, Human Behavior, Parents, Senior Citizens, Solitude, Surveillance, Texas

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We Will Never Forget 7/27/53

Posted on July 27, 2012 by | 9 comments

Hi Readers. I just got back from the County Seat in Junction, Texas.  Nice little Texas town and I managed to get the title on the $400 stolen car transferred into my name successfully.

But it was a strange experience, not only because it was raining.  The whole town’s festooned with variations on the US flag and signs declaring they’ll never forget.

As nearly as I can figure, they must be celebrating the Cease Fire for the Korean War, July 27, 1953, and declaring the US ain’t ever going to bring our troops home from Korea.

Maybe the only town in the US still remembers that Cease Fire, celebrates it, and is overjoyed 25,000 US troops are still over there keeping the commies from taking over South Korea if they could.

Junction, Texas.  Time Warpville, USA

Old Jules

9 Comments

Posted in 1950's, America, Current Issues, History, Human Behavior, Politics, Texas

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