Winter Cleaning

I’ve had this need to tidy up lately. More haus frau than usual… So when Trooper showed me this one it gave me a giggle. Yeah, sometimes it’s true…
At any rate, we’ve chosen items to place on ebay that have languished too long, the debate on what one person wants to keep that the other sees as saleable echoing room to room. I am not good at letting go.
But the world is changing and I must change with it. No need for all this baggage of life. I don’t care anymore about that silk skirt that I once needed to fit in at the office. And that “Pr0n Picnic” outfit? Well, it no longer fits – in many ways – and surely someone rather younger can make it work. (Dichotomy. I haz it.)
The need to make those adjustments was enhanced with a post-Thanksgiving trip eastward to check on a recent installation at a friend’s property – one over-engineered gate for feral pig capture and retention. As the guys worked I wandered over to the tree stand, settling down in it for some peace and quiet. As I sat there in the growing winds I was reminded of the pleasure it gives me, that simpler life.
It’s time, I think, to accept what will be. To deal with it, honestly. And to be ready, no matter what comes.

Gunslinger Pack – sale!

I’ve coveted one of the Eberlestock Gunslinger packs for awhile, now. As a friend states, they are priced for military purchase with half of them likely tossed into the Nile when the work was done. Sad.

At any rate, if you are in the market for one of the best made packs at a fairly decent price (and are happy with it in black or ARPAT), get to LA Police Gear. I haven’t seen them even on ebay at that price and new…

I’m a fan of their closeout section, also. Some really decent gear at nice holiday prices.

Cracking Open History

It was intended to be a brief stop at the used book store to waste a few minutes before meeting friends. Trooper and I split up with a kiss as we each went to our favorite areas. I found an interesting book on blacksmithing when he came up to me, a few books in hand, and a strange smile on his face. We moved to check out and I scanned through the book he held out, moving to the center and more modern timeframe within it.

And there it was – a familiar face, disguised with exhaustion and paint, but the full mouth catching my eye. A group of three in that small photo, he noted the one in the middle who looked skeletal was dead, lost in a different skirmish in a different part of the world…

I scanned that section of the book the other day, reading details that he would never give, understanding a bit more behind his only confession of months back about an airport and no cover with nothing left to do but go forward with high aggression. A mowing down, it seems, of men intent on removing them from that terrain.

I can see him allowing those memories to flow back to mind, so many years gone, and remembering the gory glory days when his body and mind were immortal. How much harder it must be to deal with the petty bullshit his supervisor is dealing out, knowing that once he roared life and death in turn. How to hold ones hand against that kind of insult? I find it nigh unto impossible myself and I’ve nothing like that iron in my spine.

I return to that page, that photo, and feel a deep admiration that the damned petty fool still breathes. That lion is not defanged, after all. Older, yes. But the skills are just as sharp, the claws just as capable of rending soul from flesh. A line repeats in my head when I think of that bastard: “My God, but you are brave.”

Some Lucky Passengers

Reading this makes me wonder what would have happened if there hadn’t been enough brains in the cockpit to cope with it all…

“As luck would have it, there were five experienced pilots — including three captains — aboard the plane. The flight’s captain, Richard de Crespigny, was being given his annual check ride — a test of his piloting skills — by another captain. That man was himself being evaluated by a third captain. There were also first and second officers, part of the normal three-pilot team.

One concentrated on flying the plane, while the others dealt with the computer alarms and made announcements to the giant planeload of passengers, some of whom said they were frantically pointing to flames streaming from the engine. Working flat out, it took 50 minutes for the pilots to prioritize and work through each of the messages — necessary steps to determine the status of the plane.”

I wonder if/when they’ll release those tapes – it’d be an intriguing set of comms.

Good Guys Finish Last

Ah, yes…the nasty little creature pulls his strings once more to determine – or believe he will determine – the fate of my beloved. Oh, he has never come against what I would bring to his hearth and home if pressed…

There are times, dear friends, when that feral thing that survived a sharp Chicago youth aches to skirt those dark ways again and give a lesson to those who need one so very much. I sometimes cannot comprehend the thing that walks in heels and silk and faces me in the mirror, so different is she from that person I was. Clean, now, and kind. But he scratches at that veneer like the fool that he is, touching on that which I care for very much.

Perhaps his truths should be laid out? Perhaps his veneer of gentility needs to be…burnished. A liar, a cheater, a small-minded thing that thinks he can out-run his age. Run, yes, little man. Run all those miles. And if wishes have wings my own will caress you, darkest yet, that littlest twinge in a heart so small…too small, surely, for what you demand it give you.

Oh, how my fingers itch to see his own clutching.

Instead, I turn the music up quite loud and tell that shady thing to settle down. Time enough for all that. Options, you see…sane and reasonable options yet remain. Paperwork and forms, letters and the like can flutter around high offices. So be still, I tell her, be patient. It’s that whole escalation of force thing. Two can play at that game.

S0 she turns around with an irritated smirk. And the lifted brow that illustrates her doubt. Always the pessimist…

Turn it up, she says. Time enough. Play on, Sass, and show the people how it’s done.