Saturday, July 16, 2016

Not so much a Chicken Tale

As another Lame Cherry exclusive in matter anti matter.

I am sitting here contemplating things with the same old nausea in my gut that I get before entering the valley of the shadow. I have a nice loving cat claw dug into the meaty part of my hand from the prodigal kitty who is so thrilled to be home again, she gets leopard claw playing that even gloves and coats will not protect me from.

I sit here looking at the old junk gun we have that I have not time for. Everyone surely has a gun draped across a recliner by the television, collecting dust, and gone unseen to us, as I somehow was going to be loosening stuck screws which has not happened.

I think about stretching the stew meat which is marinating in General Tso and will turn into stir fry tonight as Tom Petty plays in the background to "Don't do me like That".

I appreciate the notes from donors and non donors to  TL on Face Book.....and yes the letters in mail as they are read with a smile. People are thoughtful in offering to vacate their home so we could have a vacation. That was very kind, but it is like something my Uncle once told me on a trip to Montana where they stayed at a ranch house, and slept in a bed, and in the morning they were horrified to find out the family slept on the floor, as that was the only bed in the house.
That is how I was raised. I would catch holy hell if I ever put anyone out and though this blog does not seem it, I am at heart too polite until my ire gets raised.

Tomorrow is a stand alone post as it is important, and the minders were interested in grabbing it again. I was thinking about all of this stuff and having made some very dangerous people put in extra effort for their agenda, and now doing the same thing again, as everyone is supposed to take a long cannon ball off the suicide koolade and pretend everything is Mike Pence yellow brick road.

People like hearing about the animals here and I do like writing about them. Is the plan to put them into more stories, but I have such little interaction time with them. Today was odd in, instead of chopping off weeds, I laid in the yard with the kitty and we talked as a buzzard flew over head, and a tom cat was raising hell in the long grass to which kitty was making Star Trek cat sounds of great displeasure......that would be the Gary 7 episode cat.

I find myself looking more at each moment as it will not happen again. I have concerns about personal safety again and yet the Holy Spirit guides me to the first chapters of Ezekiel telling me to get the job done as I will be given words to speak which they will hate.

My day began with one of the turkey poults behind the deep freeze and dryer. Thankfully it herded out and now all is quiet and the 6 Wyandotte chickies are most content in the box on the sink. It is not odd I suspect that the more I enter the valley of the shadow, the more I remember the few things which comforted me as a child in the baby animals we always had or Grampa had. Everything was so innocent in such a savage world now more heinous.

Do not ever ask to be a Prophet, as it is a vocation without the super powers to save yourself.

I was laying in bed and I swore I could feel my dead sister from that time long ago. The scents, the feel of that time, which seems just like yesterday or being visited by someone now more stranger than kindred. Then there was the time with kitty in the yard today when I felt someone brush my shoulder. Nothing was there to see, but it was one of our dead kitties which I told I was glad they were here, but I thought they should be in Heaven, but you can not tell creatures things like that when they are showing you affection.

I was thinking while putting the girls away in the barn, that after tomorrow, the experts will be bragging online all they think they know, after what is posted is read. They will not in their cowardice ever comprehend that their loud mouths there is never the danger of ending up dead, because they are culls who do not matter until the time of mass neutralization occurs.

Guess it is time to play with the wok like it will be the last time, and hope that the product does not taste like something that came out of the Yangtze River backwash.

See the lights are flickering, a storm is coming.