Yesterday, I had written:
I've just come in and seen this.
The US Army says 12 people have been killed and 31 wounded in a shooting rampage on the Fort Hood Army base in Texas. ...
Later, I wrote:
A major, a Muslim; these elements could start all manner of ill feelings, speculations, 9/11 memories.
Could be thoughts our homes may come under attack from within.
Worst part, hot heads wanting to get even with the wrong peoples, innocents.
What a mess.
And still later:
This could get interesting. FBI, CIA, and the PTA all ascending upon Texas to gather the facts. George could be in some real trouble they ever find out he'd tried to make a pet out of and train an armored armadillo a year or two back?
This morning’s writings:
I apologize…........for making light of the Horrific Fort Hood slaughter! rereading me this morning I find myself ashamed of me my words trying to fend off the reality just how tinder some ultra twisted minds out there are. Sons and daughters trained solders unarmed to even defend themselves. I'd liked to have gotten to shot the shooter’s privates off so that he'd been useless, and the mythical seventy two virgins spared. It's terrible as civilized peoples we can't bring back all that was lost to all those families effected. I am so sorry.
Lastly adding to my blog or journal:
I’ve exposed one of my quirks. I hope no one is offended my goofy-assed way of shutting out an evil deed. It could be my negative way of handling the sorrow I feel before I cry.
Out earlier than my usual time, Handy was here taking his corn-crib apart, right turn I found Tom doing his chores, at the shop found Ray unvisibly home. Tom and I open the shop and commenced to work on the ever taller 1850 Ollie. He started fooling with valve stem while I started bringing out the tools and equipment to pump the calcium chloride out of the inner tube. Lucky us the outer valve stem broke off inside the bigger tractor tire inner tube valve stem. I just knew it was going to happen. Tom gets into such a hurry sometimes. Upon examination Its breaking could have happened to anyone. I was glad it wasn’t me.
I got Ray’s dental picks and commenced to try digging the unthreaded end still stuck up in the fluid filling tube stem. A little imaginative digging as if it were somebody’s tooth belonging to someone I was mad at an “O”-ring seal came out. Argh, the bottom of the primary air valve stem was still in there. So, I retrieves a box of left handed drills, an unattached drill chuck for a handle and herd Tom explaining I was turning the drill backward. (smile) A few gentle twists I had a hole hand drilled though the inner valve stem. A hole large enough for a medium small sized easy-out I replaced it for the drill in the chuck. Again twisting the chuck left in my hand the last piece brass came out of the fluid’s valve stem. The opening was as big and clear as it were going to get I put these last tools away. While Tom went about his plan to start the 2150 for eventual spreading of lime this day’s afternoon, I rigged the calcium chloride pump and hoses for the emptying the tire’s ballast. Everything ready to go, I eased rotating the tire its valve stem down letting the water spill out into the pumps hoses. When the pump itself had water in it I started the pump. The pump requires water to work without the plastic and rubber it is made out of from melting together via fiction. The tire’s water pumped down to where the tire required even further lowering, Ray had managed to stick the JCB skidsteer in the barnyard mud again. It were time to mount the 4010 JD, the only unattached tractor in the yard and go pull him out. When finished with that, by prearrangement’s conversation it were time I took Handy to see Doc. My dropping Handy my next stop was gasoline. Good thing I stopped, Ugly had but a little better than a gallon fuel left in the tank. While I were in Otisville, only a couple more miles east I could easily without going no further out of my way pick-up some sewer drain piping. Only looking to help a Mike out of a couple pieces he gave me four pieces. What a deal. The price more than right I had enough pipe to make me nine “POSTED” signs to slid down over a “T” post strategically placed now’n’then where haven’t a fence post nor tree to staple an otherwise small sign to.
A can of paint, a fresh paint brush and the first piece of pipe I had of my own sitting/standing underfoot by my door to worm it, on it I painted vertically the word “POSTED.” Hmm, it didn’t turn out to badly. Supposedly above 50* the next three days I should be able to repeat my “POSTED” word three times covering three sides over the next three days nine times.
Welp, the foregoing pretty well covered my day. BGKC