Just our luck...

You would think that if you shelter your "Pweshisss" (as in Lord of the Rings) from the outside world that illness would rarely if ever enter your home.

Nay nay I tell you...

Princess Poopy Pants has swine flu.

I told her not to eat the whole pig but she never listens. I guess she got it at our church's Mom's Morning Out program. It's the only time she's around other people. Sunday she had a 103 temp. and was very groggy and lethargic. She perked up yesterday, but still had a temp. and was not up to full speed. The trip to the doctor did not go as well as usual. She normally has the patience of Job and is every bit the good girl that my progeny would be expected to be. Yesterday she acted as if she were related to Lucifer or Damian or Ozzy Osborne or Tyra Banks, or some other demon. She made it through though and is on a one week Tamiflu regime. She Who Must Be Obeyed got a prescription of Tamiflu for us as well. I hold out no hope of missing this round of fun. I'm sure that everyone will have it before the year is out.

No interesting picture today, just a sick kid update.

So Princess Poopy Pants has this duck. It's a silly stuffed duck about 8 inches tall made by the people who made beanie babies. This duck is like some sort of growth out of her armpit. She carries it everywhere. She sleeps with it. She likes to toss it at me. She uses it like a tissue. She uses it like a napkin. So the stupid duck is pretty nasty, even after a trip through the wash.

The Manager told me that we needed another duck "in case Quackers gets lost." So we needed a clone. Quackers and Quackers Prime if you will. After searching the interwebs, it turns out this is some magical duck that is out of production.

**If you were collecting beanie babies as an investment, LOOK AWAY NOW**

Luckily they are all over e(vil)-bay for about $6 shipped. Upon buying-one-now, I promptly tore off the tag and tossed it into the fray with Princess Poopy Pants.

It would seem the two ducks are not of the same hen.

One is a nice puffy and cuddly soft critter in a calm and sedate yellow hue with a smiling beak.

The other looks like it had a pack a day habit for 40 years while it worked at the docks. It's kind of a rancid vanilla pudding color, and oddly crunchy even when clean. And it's stretched about 3 inches longer than it should be.

Guess which one gets all the attention...

It's Christmas!!

We finally bought a decent camera, so now we can have pictures of Princess Poopy Pants with her eyes open. Not that you can tell in this picture.

Somehow the Grinch has stolen my Christmas spirit this year. This is unusual because I am a Christmas junkie. I don't like the commercialism, the need to overspend, the "Happy Holidays" junk; I love to celebrate Christ's birth.

Finally, I am starting to get over it. We have the tree up, the wreaths on the front of the house, and some of our nativities up. There is more decorating to do, but with the Princess getting into everything, we will be on a more sedate level than typical for a few years.

Sending Princess to "Dad's" Morning Out at Northeast Presbyterian Church has paid off. She loves to paint, color, and everything else they do that is somewhat art related. We did not fully appreciate her passion for creativity until she decorated some cookies for us Sunday. I'm not going to brag, but MOMA has already requested several for permanent display. Sadly, like the LOLcat, I eated them.

I'm sure we can get more made.

Need a job?

Backstory: I have a Jeep. I have a new-to-me used console for the Jeep. The console has a slot for a radio. THe factory Jeep radio slot is a long reach from the driver's seat. I bought a radio on Black Friday.

SOOOOOOOOOOO..................

Since I am moving the radio from the dash to the console, I need a longer antenna wire. I knew that someone just HAD to make some sort of extender. Where would one find such an animal?

RADIO SHACK!

I went to the local Radio Shack to find some sort of an extension. The counter monkey was totally perplexed. He needed to know what type of antenna connector. I told him there were exactly two types: General Motors and the rest of the world. He still had no idea.

So my inner jerk sprung into action.

I asked him where I was?

Radio Shack.

What am I looking for a part for?

A radio.

Perhaps you see where the breakdown was.

I can only hope that they are looking for new workers at Radio Shack. That guy was not cutting it.

Sometimes life calls for a little stupidity

I am sad to say that I do not have any actual pictures of the cultural experience.

But that's not to say that I did not enjoy it!

The Family Unit went to the flea market in Lexington on Saturday. We did not realize that we had left the United States, but surely our passports should have been checked.

I'm not going to say that the flea market has become a sort of Wal-Mart for those people who may or may not have moved to this area from a warmer country that is further south of Texas. However, that would be true. There was such an abundance of food that I could not recognize being sold that I thought I had been relocated through some bizzare time portal.

But all that KRAAZEEE made me feel quite normal. And for that I'm glad.

Munah munah

So OH HAPPY DAY the PT Loser GT is finally sold. You know the difference between a PT Loser and a PT Loser GT, right? The Loser GT has a turbo. That means it needs copious quantities of premium fuel fed from it's 2.1 gallon fuel tank, the tires cost four times the GNP of Guatemala, and the motor bay is cramped. A typical PT Loser engine bay looks like five pounds of manure in a 1 pound sack. A PT Loser GT is more like 35 pounds in a 1 pound sack.

But I digress, because by selling this car America wins. I mean that because I suckered, er, sold it to a frenchy Frenchman. You know of France right? It's the only country that lost it's own civil war. They did in fact win one battle, Yorktown. So we owe them one. But we bailed them out at Tripoli, WW I, WWII, and Vietnam. I say enough. They have given society much; Renault (the LeCar, enough said), unshaven smelly women, and a love of Jerry Lewis. Nothing much to brag about. So I sold this idiot that car. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!

So for those of you keeping track, two months ago we had two daily drivers. The PT Loser and the beloved but beat Sunfire. They had 100K and 170K miles respectively. After selling and buying, we have a Cavalier with 60K, and a Jeep with 100K, and added over $1000 to the bank account.

Life is awesome!

V, where are you when we need you?

Remember, remember the fifth of November,
The gunpowder treason and plot,
I know of no reason
Why the gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.


Today is Guy Fawkes day in Brittan, commemorating the attempted destruction of Parliament. Guy Fawkes, along with his conspirators, were executed for the crime.

More significantly for those of us that value freedom, it was the inspiration for the lead character in "V for Vendetta," which was originally a graphic novel against Thatcherism in Brittan, but became more open ended in it's opposition to oppression when made into a movie in 2006.

Now that we are subject to the evil communist plots being forced down our throats in the dead of night by the scum in Washington, we should ask ourselves:

V, where are you?

Remember remember the fifth of November...


This message brought to you from Galt's Gulch, Blythewood branch.

Life is wunnerful...

We just got home from a week in North Carolina. It was real rough. We had to watch the leaves turn color *ALL WEEK* with no responsibilities. I know, you can't imagine how I made it through alive. Well, thanks to copious alcoholic beverages and my innate laziness, I just slid by.

We did go up to Cherokee, NC so we could see how much we still hate tourist traps. That, and to buy some overpriced moccasins for a child that won't remember them. Thus the really bad photo of Poopy Pampers...

Enough already

So it seems that everyone I know is whining about the weather.

For those of you who don't live in my area; it's raining.

Ye gods!!! Break out the ark! It's the coming apocalypse! What are we to do? When does FEMA get here?

Grow up. It's just rain. It will not kill you. It will make stuff grow.

I will say that it is inconvenient that the cheapest day to go to the State Fair will also be the wettest day to go to the Fair. But life just isn't "fair" sometimes.

So the shrimping season will likely be over for me. I will not be able to go out for the next few weekends. Dad does not like to go out in November because he gets too cold. That's really fine, because my freezer has enough shrimp to more than last me through the year, and we got a cooler full on the last trip.

Life is good. It's rainy but the coffee is hot.

You can hate me at any time.

As I type this missive I am enjoying a refreshing home made barley soda on my back porch in the cool afternoon breeze while Princess Poopy Pants sleeps. I have completed and e-mailed my report from this morning. The laundry is on the line. The kitchen is cleaned up. I'm listening to some music by Sixpence None the Richer, my current guilty pleasure.

I can't decide on whether to work on some writing or to read for a while.

Why in the world would people want to live in the city when they can live like this?

Prayers going out to Marty and his family right now for his mother Sarah.

New and improved, the same old same old.

So, hopefully you have started using my liquid laundry soap. If not, you are no true loyal minion!!!

I have however upgraded.

New version:

1 bar Fels Naptha Soap grated
1 cup washing soda
1 cup Borax

Put it all in the food processor and hit kill. It makes a fine powder. Use about a tablespoon or two per washer load.

But wait, there's more!

It also is excellent for cleaning the tub or toilet. It cleans a kitchen sink and stove like you would never believe. It's CHEEEEEEP and we all know that I love cheap. Try it. That's an order.

And here is a picture of Princess Poopy Pants wearing my hat and socks with a mouth full for your enjoyment.

Epic

So, while leaving Satan-Center (Wal-Mart) with a massive quantity of stuff, I glanced over at the Missing Children board.

You may be thinking, "what a kind and compassionate man Brian is. Always studying children's faces to help in the national watch for missing children."

No. I'm looking to see how horrible the pictures are, thinking this is the best photo you have of your missing child? Yes, I'm callous and cold.

This time however, I noticed something that caught my eye. One child's photo was a mug shot.

A mug shot.

In case you missed that, a mug shot.

Here's a radical notion: if the best photo you have of your missing child is his mug shot, your child is not missing. He is a fugitive from justice. Time to face reality.

I'm just saying.

Breakin' the law

Some say that child labor laws protect children.

I say that people don't realize how good children can clean.

http://www.findmyhosting.com Find the best web hosting companies.

Edisto, more than a beach

Madeline loves Edisto Island. And why not? It's a wonderful place that is not swarming with junk souvenir stores and teenagers with loud car radios playing rap at obscene volume.

It's quiet, with shell covered beaches. The link to the past is ever present. There are reminders of the island cotton days. The rice plantation days. The truck farming days. There is the oldest continuously active church in South Carolina.

Admittedly, Edisto has always been where I go shrimping with my father. Now though it is where Madeline can play in the surf and build a sand castle. It is where a ride to nowhere in the Jeep with the doors and windows off is a big adventure.

New family customs seem to be starting every day.

As a side note, lightning hit our Direct TV dish while we were gone. This is the third time this year, because the technicians refused to ground the equipment. Direct TV refused to send a repairman out in less than three days. So, I fired them. I will now get my television from the interwebs and from a Netflix subscription. So, no real tv for our house any more. Let's see how that works out. At least I removed the incompetence that is Direct TV from my life.

So long old girl

I've had my girl Dixie for 13 years. I got her while I was at Erskine College. She's been with me ever since. She was run over by my mother in law, and she was hit out on my road in 1999. She's had a bad leg and one lung ever since.

She got under my feet in the garage.

She begged for treats constantly.

She always barked at cats and deer all night long when I needed to get up early the next day.

She would look right at the arc when I was welding no matter how many times I told her not to.

She would chase people on bikes. (Well, that may not have been a bad thing)

She was incredibly dominant.

She would lay in the shadows at night and scare me when I was coming home.

She had to leave me Saturday.

I'm going to miss that wonderful dog.

Uh, yeah...

So it's been a while and I have not posted. I guess I get twenty lashes for that one. Long story short, I had some problems with my old steam powered computer, so I bought a new one. I'm back up and running, so I should have no excuse for not posting more often.

Lil' sis is still in the hospital. She should be getting out soon. Her infection in her lungs seems to be clearing up.

Let's hear it for beer!!!

If it is so important, why aren't you here?

So the Blythewood Masonic Lodge annual fundraiser BBQ was this weekend. Let me start off by saying that I do not enjoy this event.

I got to the Lodge at 6:45. My job in this annual bloodletting it to stoke the fire barrels, shovel hot coals on the end of a shovel with a 10' extended metal handle, load flip and remove the chickens, and generally be a spare set of hands. I am supposed to be on first shift. This usually works out just fine and dandy. I help cook about 500 of the 800 chickens, the other 300 are handled by second shift, who doesn't work as hard, but it is hotter in the afternoon so it's fair in the end.

Unless, there is no second shift.

Only one person assigned to second shift managed to show up. So, I was there until 5:30. Overheated, exhausted, sweaty, smelly, and with a very bad angry streak by that time as well.

All of this because a bunch of grumpy old men, most of whom have lifetime memberships and do not pay dues, are too stupid to realize that we cannot afford to operate on $50 per year dues per member with only 120 members. (Actually, about 75 of those pay dues!) So instead of having a fundraiser to help someone in the community, we have a fundraiser to support our laziness and ignorance.

I'm not cooking chicken any more. For the record: if the dues are not raised to fully fund the Lodge operations, I'm not helping with the fundraiser. The fundraiser should help the community, not support our sloth.

So here is a cute picture of Princess Poopy Pants to cheer us all up!

STOP

Collaberate and Listen.


So I was asked to be the Vice Prez of my Sunday School class. One well meaning member thanked me for accepting my spiritual calling.

...


...


OR!!! Maybe I'm too dumb to say nyet.

So I digress.

Big thanks to my gun buddy "Jeff." We'll call him "Jeff" because it's his name. As my loyal minions recall, I don't change names to protect the guilty. "Jeff" assembled my new AR-15 for me so I can be ready for Comerade Obamalamadingdong's revolution.

(Did that sound like some sort of uber-right wing conservative paranioa? Just checking.)

I miss the Mongrel, but I think I've fallen in luuuuuv with my ragged old tractor. Even if it makes my back hurt after cutting fields for hours.

This post is what my life would look like if I were on facebook.

What water damage?

Okay, so I'm not the best at home repair. In fact, I'm really bad at it.

But really, if the bathroom over your kitchen leaks so bad the top of your cabinets collapse, maybe just maybe it might be time to fix something.

I knew I should have paid more attention in college and not become a home inspector. Today's house was rough. Not one of my better inspection days.

There's some lovely filth down here!

So, DeerDotter figured out the wonders that is a sandbox. True, her first exposure was the remnants of a bag of peat moss I dumped into a hole that the Doggie Wonder has been working on for 11 years. Who knew that so little muck can go so far?

Now Wunnerful Wifey wants a sandbox.

I predict my obsessive compulsive cleanliness will go into convulsive fits any moment now.

But let's face reality: who doesn't want a giant litter box for the entire cat commuinity to grace in their yard? Hmm? Hmm? That's what I thought! Well, I guess a sand box will offset the "neavoux blanc garbage chic" look that our place has taken on. You know, overgrown failed garden, junk truck behind a workshop full of classic cars, carpeted screened porch, blah blah blah.

I predict my laundry will increase any day now.

Storytime Bomb...

So, Princess Poopy Pants was a little monster at the local library storytime today.

I had such high hopes, I guess I will withdraw my application for parent of the year.

Anyway, I was lucky enough to find another SAHD in the Blythewood area after my column in The Blythewood Leader was published. We met up for a kiddie play date at the park. Good times were had by all, until it rained. I'm not entirely sure either kid realized the other was there.

So we took repast in the local library for storytime. There were several other kids and a group of SAHM's there already. This being my first attempt at storytime with the Lil' Manager, I tried to keep her under control and look like I wasn't a total ninny.

I failed.

The SAHM's that were already there looked at me like I just fell out of the sky. I guess a SAHD is not a regular appearance there.

Anyway, Princess Poopy Pants was in full EXPLORE!!! form. She wanted to look around, and my efforts to restrian here led to her whining. So we left. I didn't want to disturb the others too much. Oh well, maybe she will be a good girl next time.

I did enjoy meeting another SAHD. It's the first time I have met another in real life.

Ever get really disappointed by something? That's me.

I made the mistake of having high hopes about the Scottish Rite Master Craftsman Program. I anticipated deep and in-depth study of the moral and philosophical teachings of the Scottish Rite degrees. It is not. The essay question is "What did you learn that most surprised you in this course?"

C'mon, really?

Freemasonry for the uneducated. I'm less than impressed.

If anyone can recommend to me a reasonable cell phone plan I'm interested. I don't think it's worth having a home phone and two cell phones. Sadly, I'm firmly trapped by the monopoly that is AT&T. (Don't we have anti-monopoly laws? Didn't AT&T get broken up once already? I digress...) I cannot find a way to enable us to still be able to talk to our friends and family in the upstate and out of state, and spend less than we do now. If we go to two unlimited cell plans, we spend about $40 more per month, INCLUDING cancelling the home phone.

Technology is such a pain. I'm ready to pull the plug.

But isn't the little Curtain Climber cute?

Farewell, dear Mongrel

Ladies and Gentlemen, I need a drink.
For those of you that know my truck, the Mongrel, she is gone.
Background: I spent four years building a Lil Red Express Clone exactly the way I wanted it. It was built to to my 57 Plymouth to Tulsa in 2007 for the digging up of the buried 57 Belvedere. Since then, my daughter was born, so a single cab truck is not very practical.
It's fast. It's loud. It's comfortable. It's reliable (finally!).
It had to go.
Raise a glass with me gentlemen. My truck is gone.
I hope the new owner enjoys it. He got it for a lot less than I spent to build it.

Someone call VH1

I just had the best week ever!!

My buddy Kevin Cooper is finally back from Iraq! That's the best news I've had in a year.

I got paid for an inspection I did in Feb. Yup, months late...

I sold the truck!! It's off to Canada and out of my life. I think I miss it, but I'm not sure.

I got to see my college room mate again, which is nice since he lives in God's Waiting Room (Florida).

I won $450 at a car show! Woo hoo!! Time to finish my AR-15 build.

I'm more than famous

I'm infamous!!!

The Blythewood Leader is running my column now:

http://www.theblythewoodleader.net/pdfs/May7all.pdf

Thanks for the support from all my buddies on the Daddy Forum:

http://www.dadstayshome.com/

And one of my Masonic Lodges now has a webpage.

http://www.blythewood395.org/

New employee

Cooper Home Inspection has just hired a crawlspace specialist.

Still trying to sell the truck. I'm tired of being lied to. If you don't want it, just say so. Really, is that so hard?

Anyway, I'm working on my second column for The Blythewood Leader. My first is supposed to be published in the upcoming issue. Wish me luck!

Ode to the Mongrel

I love it. I hate it. I built it.

At least I know who to blame. Here's the story on the Mongrel. It's a truck. It's a beast. It's possessed by Lucifer himself. The more time, energy, money, blood and tears I pour into it the more it abuses me. And I love it for that reason.

Yup, I'm an idiot. EEE-DEEEE-UTTTTTT. Idiot.

I built the Mongrel to tow the 57. Great idea huh? Well, it tows the Plymouth. Right up to the point where it breaks. And let me tell you, when this truck breaks, it does it right. Broken axles, wheels parting company with the vehicle, broken crankshafts, oil leaks, gasoline leaks, and incessant exhaust leaks; this truck has done it all. I built it from nothing, the way I want it. It was supposed to be what a brand new truck should be. And it is! It has a manual transmission. It has loud exhaust; the kind that scares yuppies in Audi's and sets off car alarms. It eats up miles and miles of interstate with reckless abandon. All this for $15K. What a bargain. I'm sorry, let me retype that... What? A bargain!?!?! That's what I meant.

Anyhow, it finally runs right. It's a blast to drive. It is utilitarian.

It's for sale.

Time to move on. I want to build another project. I need money. It's been on e-bag, and closes in mere moments. No bids, and there won't be I'm sure. Some guy in Tennessee wants to buy it and says he is coming to look at it this week. I don't believe him. I've been told that too many times.

Well, it's gotta go. I want stupid money for a fake Lil Red Express. But I'm still taking a loss. I guess it will keep taking up space in the shop for a while until someone wants to part ways with $10K.

Not likely.

Wanna buy a key chain with a Lil Red Express attached?

I'm following this road.

Around here, the lunacy never seems to end!!

I started the seeds to plant in my garden, and grabbed the wrong potting media. Looks like I may get the opportunity to start 8 flats of seeds all over again. JOY! RAPTURE!!

Long ago and far away I joined a small internet community for old cars. Yes, I know you are shocked and amazed that I would do so. It's true though. I have been a member of that community for nearly 10 years now. Lately though, the discussion forum has become a stomping ground for nearly illiterate and poorly educated ne'er-do-wells that have little to do but antagonize others. There is one member that accused me of hiding behind the annonymity of the internet while he was doing exactly that. Brilliance!

Anyway, I'm pretty much done there. I've helped many guys with problems over the years, but it's not worth my time to read the forums anymore. Of course they won't notice I'm gone, but that's fine too.

Morale of the story; If you tire of the loathesomeness of a particular website, don't look at it. Instead of trying to change the madness, sometimes it's best to walk away.

I was recently interviewed by the Blythewood Leader newspaper about my involvement in Blythewood Masonic Lodge. Horrible picture but good content.

http://theblythewoodleader.net/htdocs/modules/mastop_publish/?tac=Home

Car show fun.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

WHAT A DAY!!!!

Here's the report from the car show yesterday...

I got there and found that I had not installed the gasket on the lid for the oil filter on my 57 correctly, and it had leaked oil over the side of the motor. So, quick fix of straightening the gasket and it is fixed.

Then my buddy Neal leaves the show to head home. He was our best of show winner and has a beautiful 1969 GTO Judge. He made it nearly to the gate when it stalled and wouldn't restart. My buddy James and I went to boost it off. As soon as we removed the battery cables, it died. James and I had diagnosed it as either a bad voltage regulator or a bad alternator. James left after we called AAA to pick the car up and tow it back to my house. Tows under 100 miles are free, our house was 97.8 miles!!

James got on the interstate and made it two exits before he hit something with a tire and blew the tire out. He did not have a jack or a spare with him in his 72 454 powered El Camino. I sent my tools with another guy from the show who had a Chevy bolt pattern spare to bail him out.

We got home about 9:30, and I sent Neal home in the wife's daily driver. I told him I would fix the car today and he could come and get it. I knew I had a bunch of spare parts that were not being re-used on my wife's 69 Camaro project.

I swapped the good alternator and regulator off Angie's Camaro onto the car, but it still wouldn't charge. I put on an internally regulated alternator I had on the shelf, and wired it like my tractor, and presto! Voltage at battery. So, I started trying to bypass the generator light so it would work right.

Then things went sideways...

I pulled the pigtail off the regulator to make a jumper wire, and the wiring hit the case of the regulator and sparked. I pulled off the battery cable, and removed the convoluted tubing covering the wiring. The charging wiring from the regulator to the alternator was completely fried. So much wire was cooked that I could not fix it on the car. I had to remove the engine harness and fix it on the workbench using half of the old harness off the Camaro for parts.

Just think how bad it would have been if Neal had taken the advice James and I gave him and put on a one wire alternator at the show. Could have burned the car to the ground with that much wiring damage.

So, moral of the story: 1: No good deed goes unpunished. 2: Check your wiring out every now and then. 3: Watch out for stuff in the road, especially if you don't carry a spare 4: Kids are best carried in the trunk (see photo) 5: Sleep, it's what's for dinner!

Free At Last!!

I went to the bank today and made the last payment on our debt.

Yuppers boys and girls; We are debt free except for the house.

That whole Dave Ramsey debt snowball really works if you stick with it. We have finally kicked all those stupid bills to the curb.

Enough of that stuff...

I finally got the Bible I was after. I bought an English Standard Verion Schofield Study Bible. It's not the big ESV Study Bible that is chiropractor approved, but the smaller version that is easy to use and to carry. I couldn't be happier with it. I've put it into daily use, and it's great.

We went to the mountains last weekend. Perfect weather!! 70 degrees and just enough clouds to make the sunsets interesting. Madeline had a great time and really enjoyed demolishing a new area instead of the same old same old.

Been pretty busy with Cooper Home Inspection recently as well.

God has really blessed us this month!!

Something so simple, yet totally perplexing.

I am amazed.

I have literally spent days upon days now trying to find a book.

Just one simple book.

The Bible.

Here's the background. I have a ton of Bibles around here. I think I counted 14 of them around here. That does not include children's Bibles or New Testaments. You would think that I should have no problems at all with a Bible to read. I literally have enough for two in every room in my house if you don't include the kitchen. So there is no good reason for me to need another one.

Well, in reality I don't. I have a perfectly adequate New International Version my parents gave me in 1991. Nothing in the world wrong with it. I read it daily, and take it to church every week.

The "problem" is that I "need" a study Bible to use every day. And I want the most accurate translation available. There's the problem. Who defines accurate. Right out of the box I looked at the English Standard Version. The hottest new version of a 2000 year old book on the market.

WOW! Let's all run out and buy one! I can't wait!

Great idea, unless you read the interwebs. Of course, you shouldn't read the interwebs without consulting me first my children. Like Rush Limbaugh, I'll do your thinking for you.

There are so many commentaries on the various translations that it will make your head swim.

So, have I chosen my next Bible? Nope. But I have a plan.

I'm going to buy something with a pretty color, with those fancy thumb tab thingys, not too expensive, in whatever version my preacher suggests. As soon as he responds to my e-mail question.

Now that's some real objective research!

So, until my next post; nobody move. I'll be right back.

Who Is John Galt?

"So you think that money is the
root of all evil? Have you ever
asked what is the root of money?
Money is a tool of exchange, which
can't exist unless there are goods
produced and men able to produce
them. Money is the material shape
of the principle that men who wish
to deal with one another must deal
by trade and give value for value.
Money is not the tool of the moochers,
who claim your product by tears,
or of the looters, who take it from
you by force. Money is made possible
only by the men who produce. Is this
what you consider evil?"

- Francisco d'Anconia

I read A small book last month. Okay, it was a long book. Real long. It took me over a week to read it, and I read fast. It was Ayn Rand's "Atlas Shrugged."

What sparked me to read this was a bumper sticker. It simply read "Who Is John Galt?" I didn't know, so I looked on the web to find out. My research led me to the book.

Now let me be clear; I do not fully agree with all of Ms. Rand's philosophy of Objectivism. I am intrigued by it and I feel that there is much truth in it, but I do not fully drink that Kool-aid.

I will say that "Atlas Shrugged" is perhaps the best book I have read. Not only is it a great philosophy, but it is great fiction. A page turner that makes "The DaVinci Code" jealous. To summarize the plot, it is the story of how one man destroys the economy of the United States because the government is taking control of free enterprise and capitalism. The book was intended to be a cry against Communism, which it plainly is, but it is also a great foreshadowing of the Socialist-Communist government Comrade Obama-ski is forcing us into now.

I recomend that you read the book. I guarantee it will change your perspective of the world.

"I swear, by my life and my love of it, that I will never live for the sake of another man, nor ask another man to live for mine."
- John Galt

Where was I? Oh yes, frugal stuff...

Here's one of my favorite tips.

Angie and I are foodies. We are bonafide food snobs. We like good food, and we are not ashamed to say it.

A while back we tried making some bread, for several reasons. First, it sounded fun. Second, it sounded tasty, and we like tasty. In fact, it turns out all of our taste buds are in our mouth, so we like to taste food. Happy coincidence. Third, it was some cheap fun. We also like cheap stuff.

We tried several recipes, and we tried my mother's bread machine. We also tried a recipe from another blog, that I tweaked to fit my own devious needs. We found that we really liked it. We also found that it's cheap. So for the past few months, we have not bought any bread, but have made all of our own. Plus it's easy.

Here's the recipe, and how to make it without inturpting your busy day of reading this blog. (C'mon, you know it's all you do all day.)

Brian's Big Bad Blissful Bread (Behold, Believe, Be eatin' it)

3 cups whole wheat flour
3 cups all purpose flour
1/4 cup oil
2 tablespoons sugar or honey or brown sugar
2/3 tablespoon of salt
1 1/4 tablespoon of yeast

Put it in a big honkin' bowl and stir it up. Then add 2-4 cups of warm (not hot) water. You may need a little or a lot. It depends. I add two cups, and add more untill it makes a nice firm dough. Knead it mercilessly for five minutes or so. Just imagine it's an IRS agent's head and go to town. Plop it on your counter and wash out your big honkin' bowl. Spray with some no-stick spray or lube as otherwise appropriate. I've use more cooking oil. Re-plop dough back into bowl, cover with towel, and ignore for 3 hours, or untill it doubles. Then punch it down and shape it into a loaf. Put it in your favorite loaf pan, or a cake pan, or whatever oven safe containment vessel you have, it only affects shape. Ignore it for another hour. Catch up on my blog while you wait! Bake it at 375 for about 30 minutes, or, untill it sounds hollow when you thump on the bottom of the loaf.

Let it cool, because hot things burn your mouth.

Slice and enjoy.

Now, how to make it fit your busy schedule...

Get up five minutes earlier on Sunday morning. Make dough. Leave for church. Return home, punch dough. Eat lunch and clean up. Bake dough.

See how that fits so nicely into your Sunday? If you need more than one loaf per week, make as many as you need. The bread freezes very nicely.

You may now return to waiting breathlessly for my next post.

Snow snow snow

Those who may read this in a less fortunate area where you get snow regularly won't appreciate the importance of one day of snow.

Here in Eden, er, Blythewood, we don't get much snow. One day of snow with under an inch of accumulation pretty much destroys the city. And that's exactly how we like it!

Today was that day. We awoke to snow falling pretty heavily. It built up to a nice 3/4 inch or so. Just enough to take Madeline out to play in it and see snow for the first time. She was amazed and perplexed. She spent a lot of time looking out the windows at the snow falling, with wide excited eyes. There wasn't enough on the ground for a snow man, and with freezing temperatures it is not a good idea to take a 1 year old out for long anyway.

But, at least she got to see her first snow.

Then, the ground began to warm. The snow melted faster than it fell. A bizarre battle was waged, where the sky beat down heavily with large beautiful flakes swirling and tumbling. The ground began to warm, even though the sun was occluded, melting the snow as soon as it hit. The beauty of snow is not just the falling flakes, but the blanket of purity that is spread across the land. This was not to be, for just as quickly as it began, it was over. The ugly dead grass, sodden with water, now became a desolate view. No more was there joy and hope for deep crunching snow to trample under foot, just the soggy muck to track inside. No matter how much the heavens may try to prevail and bestow their gift, it is removed by the hot and humid turf.

The beauty now over, just the taunting of falling flakes like ash from some great fire.

Odd that today is inauguration day...

Sometimes, you just have to get comfortable...

Allow me to pontificate on the enormity of life.

Every now and then, you have to stop and evaluate what you are doing.

Are you doing what you WANT to do? Or are you doing what you think you have to do?

I have started several projects recently. I have started to read more. I am currently reading a lengthy tome that has been a great read. Once I am done, I will report and reflect accordingly. On my list this year are several things: I want to read some C.S. Lewis. I want to read Walden, re-read Chaucer, finish Morals and Dogma, and maybe some biographies.

I am also on the Dad Stays Home weight loss challenge. This has required some Push-Backs. Not eating everything in sight because I can, but eating sensible portions. I am also taking Madeline for a walk every day. It's only two miles, but it's a start. Maybe I can get to the point where I am not weighed in gross tonnage displaced.

I am also working on the garden to end all gardens. It's my overambitious 1/3 acre plot that I won't be able to manage, or keep the deer out of.

That's a lot of stuff. Especially when I am also trying to run a home inspection business ( http://www.cooperhomeinspection.com/ ) and be a Stay At Home Dad.

I'm doing it by simplifying.

A good friend of mine, who shall remain nameless, just found himself in a position where he has more free time than he has had in years. I had to remind Marty (OOPS!!!) that he has gone into business for himself, and is no longer working 40 hours per week for someone else in addition to running his business. Marty is the ambitious type that never rests. He gets antsy if he has to sit and relax. Accordingly, I told him to hook up his tractor and try to grow something. Hopefully he won't get carried away like I have. Marty is entering a new stage that I am forcing myself into. He has scaled back his involvement.

While I am much more active in my church, I have cut back on some Masonic activities. The trade off is more nights at home, but more morning activities. Luckily, I'm still with the family unit when I'm at church.

On a side note, Madeline's first birthday will be Saturday. Boy how time flies.

Fun with rope!

Here's the blog entry all the power companies will sue me for...

You need a line to hang your laundry on.

BEHOLD! my loyal minions, I have declared that is must be so.

The biggest power munchers in your house are your HVAC unit, your refrigerator (and freezer if you have one) your water heater, your stove, and your dryer.

Now, we will cover each of these in their due time, but first up is the dryer.

Back in the days of the caveman, when Dick Clark was young and AT&T was not a monopoly, we hung our clothes on the clothesline after removing them from the washing machine (or nearby river). And as we say in the Masonic Lodge (to my chagrin) "if it's good enough for my Daddy, it's good enough for me." Thus progress is thwarted.

This is a simple device. 1: Find a length of rope. 2: Find a bunch of clothes pins. They are cheap, look for them in the dollar store to get them really cheap. 3: Find two stationary and inanimate objects to tie the rope to. These can be trees, telephone poles, two posts you have set in the ground, a few Congressmen (because the NEVER move), whatever. I put mine between the bathroom exterior wall and the screen porch. This gives me two lines about 10 feet long each. They are close to the house and over my rear deck. I may put up something longer soon though. use what works for you.

Now, as we have established, I know what you are thinking. (you and your filthy mind) Yes, you can and should dry clothes outside even in the winter. I have hung clothes when the temperature is in the twenties. This is also the temperature at which Southerners cease to exist, so be careful. It takes longer but it still works. If you can put your line in a sunny area, or an area where there is a good breeze, that's better.

I line dry everything except the baby's clothes. Her stuff still gets the dryer so it will stay softer.

CAUTION Be sure to remove the clothes before it starts to rain. This may seem obvious, but not everyone is an Erskine College graduate, so I have to be sure I cover all my bases for those less fortunate than me. (kidding... maybe)

If you are nice I will tell you about the car show I went to this weekend.

Rub a Dub Dub

Clean fun in the washing machine?

Okay, not the most creative title. Shoot me.

After several loads with the experimental soap, I think we have a winner.

Background; in an effort to cut costs around the shack, we looked at the cost of laundry soap. I do about one load of laundry per day. Sometimes more. That's a lot of soap, and laundry soap is expensive. I read several posts on the Dad Stays Home forum and on the Homesteading Today forum about home made laundry soap. People with more free time than sense calculated out the cost per load with pre-made soap and with the home made stuff. It was at least 20 cents less per load with the home made stuff. I'm bad at math, but that's got to add up over time. The total cost for all the ingredients was under $10, and I have enough supplies to make laundry soap for a VERY long time.

Here's the recipe:

1/3 bar Fels Naptha soap
1/3 cup Washing Soda
1/3 cup Borax detergent

The hardest part is finding the ingredients. After much wailing and gnashing of teeth, I finally found all of the parts. Kroger sells the Washing Soda and the Borax. Publix sells the Fels Naptha. NO, you CANNOT use Baking Soda in place of Washing Soda. If you try to substitute baking soda your washing machine will explode and kill your dog and two neighbors (three if they are liberals) so don't try it.

Maybe I over reacted. Actually , the soap won't work unless you use Washing Soda.

Grate up the bar of soap. I used a food processor. Yes, the food processor will come clean, it's soap. Put everything in a pot with about 6 cups of water and boil it until the soap dissolves. This will take longer than you would expect. Divide the special sauce between two one gallon jugs (or one two gallon jug) and fill the rest with water. Shake liberally. Do not shake Democratically. That will only raise taxes.

I use 1/4-1/3 cup per load.

Here's the weird part; Angie hates the way the soap smells but the finished clothes have no scent at all. There is no smell left in the cloth.

So, go hunting. Find some soap. Introduce yourself to the middle ages of laundry.

Next time I will tell you about fun with rope! Oh boy!!

Just what we needed...

Yeah right, the world needs another blog like it needs another politician. I know, blogging is the realm of the lunatic, the radical left-winger that thinks he matters, and the high school kid who thinks the world doesn't understand.

But this blog is DIFFERENT!

No, it's not. Really.

This blog is written by a Stay At Home Dad, who won't be able to find time to write droll missives for the masses (both of you!) on a regular basis.

I'm also a Home Inspector. http://www.cooperhomeinspection.com/ And I will shamelessly plug myself. I have to eat after all. Since the economy is in the tank right now, I'm mostly a SAHD. They pay about the same...

This blog thinks politics is like politicians; stupid, and a waste of time. So, I won't comment on political balderal other than to quote myself:

"All politicians are liars, so vote for the one that lies your way."

(copyright Cooper Heavy Industries)

But, I'm a Libertarian. Which is to say that I hate big government, taxes, politicians, the DMV, and the Highway Patrol. Enough of that blah blah blah, you get the idea.

I'm a Freemason, and I won't tell you where the gold is hidden. C'mon, we can't agree on who will make dinner next month but we secretly rule the world? I think not. It's a boys club with a secret handshake. It is a lot of fun though.

So, you are asking yourself two things right now. First, how can he read my mind? It's uncanny!! Second, what's this junk about? Does he even have a point?

Well, I can read your mind, and you should be ashamed of yourself! Go wash your mouse out with soap. I'll wait...

And this junk is about the misadventures of a 33 year old who is surrounded by a eleven month old infant. She has me covered, and she knows it.

She, the one of which I speak, is Madeline. She keeps me busy all day, every day. Sometimes she allows me to take time for frivolities like my lunch, checking the mail, and breathing.

I have also been asked to get a pile together of all the crazy stuff I do to save money. Being a SAHD doesn't pay much, and Home Inspecting pays less sometimes. I have to keep the Benjamins in check, yo! So, I will grace you with enlightenment at my discretion. And you will like it. Behold, I am the blogger, what I say goes.

I'm sure CNN will be covering this blog soon.

I'll wait while you clean the coffee off the monitor.

Thanks in advance to the Dad Stays Home message board. I've *ahem* stolen most of my ideas from there. The rest came to me during peyote hangovers.

Have a question? Send it along after consulting your Magic 8 Ball. I'll answer it if I'm in a good mood. Maybe.