A Gang Of Dogs

We had a gang of dogs Saturday, fifteen of them. I wish I had taken a picture. There were a couple of Walkers, a few mixed breeds, A Plott, and some Kemmer Curs, an English and a Steven’s Cur. “Three or four good ones, and the rest are just dogs”. Most were yearlings or haven’t been hunted much. We didn’t kill a Bear Saturday, but Mike killed a Deer…With his truck. Twister didn’t make it again, he was out tending to Amish stuff.

Bear Hunting is fun, but not as fun unless you break out into a sweat. Me and four others went up a ridge with those fifteen dogs, some on leads and others following along and I got it. I poured the sweat. Some others we hunt with had struck a Bear and got a race on. They had together nine dogs on it and we were listening to them on the radio. We had split apart, going either direction on the ridge. Me and a teenage boy were walking in a box shape track down the ridge. The boy’s that went the other way packed onto the race with permission from the others. I heard them over the radio saying a light skinned Plott male was coming down the mountain getting into a fight with every dog. The boy was about on the Bear and the dogs (Plotts themselves) were fighting the Light skinned Plott. My party didn’t have a Plott other than mine, Squeaky, and a two half Plott females, Princess and Hell Cat. The race broke apart, the boy’s lost the Bear. As for the ones that had packed onto the race they ran across some hog tracks about the time the race broke and lost it. From what we can best gather. The fog of Bear Hunting.

After a ways I let Bell of the lead. She’s living up to her name now. She stayed with us, didn’t stray far. All the girl dogs get along, the boy’s want to have a pissing contest. If a tree got pissed on once, it got pissed on twice. It kind of slows things down. Squeaky either tossed his cookies or shit in the box. Me and that boy got down to my truck and everyone was gone. We threw his big Walker Hound in the box and it wanted it to it’s self. Me and him had six dogs. Darn they’re hollering…BRB…Well, fourteen months old she is like a teenage girl, yap yap yap. Barking to hear herself…We put a Kemmer in the box with him and he went all over it. We had to pull the cur out. Fortunately, the others had came back from catching the dogs before we left out with them. We had Squeaky and a Kemmer up on the box, they were fine. Bell was fine with the two others in the box with her. I was trying to find what to do with Patch, the Bull Dog, when the others arrived. Heck, must have been the moon, Mikes Dogs had got into it in the box that morning. Any way, shit or puke, that big Walker had cleaned it all up for Squeaky…Or me. I've got video of Squeaky being rigged on the dog box, if you know how to convert Quick Time to something other holler at me. Please.

Squeaky had gotten excited over a set of hog tracks, but the boy’s Walker didn’t get so excited. Squeaky howled trying to instigate the others. But, the young Dogs didn’t get it. Squeaky is real cold nosed. He can pick a track, but it was too old. We didn’t let him go. I pulled him off of the track. One of my ankles…Bell is in full cry here in the yard…One of my ankles was sore Sunday morning. Being tugged by two strong hounds down the mountain, in a White Pine grove, where the woods are open but dead pine limbs are slick plus the rocks made for a rough walk. The teenager with me plays ball and has to wrap his ankles for games. I know he was sore too. I got over it quick walking around the house after I got up. Sunday I walked a little known section of game lands. It ain’t a bad country. I got a fire going tonight, first one in about a year and a half.

So, that is Bear Hunting for your week of October 29, 2007
The Appalachianist

Video Friday V, Living for more

Those of us from the Mountains can read between the lines on this one. Appalachian Bohemes.

They were only searching for more.

We were meant to live so much more...

Switch Foot.

OK, work time
The Appalachianist

Normal Again

It happened again. I woke this Wednesday morning realizing again I had dreamed I was back in Iraq. I’ve been dreaming it for weeks. Last week when I posted “Notes” I stated I’d just assume go back to Iraq. That prompted some response, even a phone call. I didn’t say I wanted to go back. I have no designs on it. I do have to accept that I may have to go back. Though, my attitude is harder to describe.
When I rolled back into Buttholeville last Saturday evening I ran into the boy I had gotten off the plain with. He asked me how adjusting was going. I repeated it to him and his newlywed wife blurted out, “He says that too!”.
“Tell her, life was simple over there”.
I replied that things were crazy there because they were supposed to be. Here, people are petty.
I’m not the only one saying this. Then I remembered what I had heard someone say... “I wanted to back to Vietnam. My girlfriend got upset and thought I was crazy.”

It’s not patriotic, it’s personal. I put it back in my mind. I didn’t deal with it for a couple of days, then my mind hammered it out. I thought of how many of the others that were activated and sent over with me had been having sleep problems too. For nearly three months I rarely slept a full night. I would wake and be in thought for hours. Over in Iraq our minds were geared to the day in and the day out of a combat zone and relating to a people far different from us. Our minds were “revved” they said.
People are more real, more genuine over there. People relate to one another. The atmosphere is chaos. It’s supposed to be. Things don’t always make sense there, and, that’s alright.
When things become in discord here, your thought is, that it’s unreal, unnecessary. People are getting blown up on the other side of the world. Why doesn’t everyone calm down? Something is not making sense, and that is not alright. You relate to the chaos of war, but not the chaos of society.
When you step off of that plain you step into a harsh environment where "higher powers", externals take precedence. In a combat zone things are complicated but it's simple, day by day.

It's not so bad. I'm not dwelling on externals. I'm frustrated to a point, not a point that it effects the feelings, the view of my Self. I'm frustrated with my environment. It's the same environment. People are the same. I'm not. I won't be either.
My mind, day by day is gearing back to this world as it makes sense of that world. That is why I have the dreams. That is why I say to myself I'd assume go back. I'm relating the two worlds.
I functioned well in that enviroment, and I know it. There is no reason for me not to function well in this enviroment. My energy is ony evening out.

I appreciate things. I appreciate myself. I have a great family, even if thy don't understand me. I have great freinds, both male and female, even if they don't know how to relate to me. I like Western North Carolina allot more than I did the Mesopotamian Plain. I have opportunities in my life. I thank God for everyday.

I'm alright. I'm not longing for the chaos, carnage and violence. I'm unrevving, I'm putting it all in perspective. I saw my step daughter at a gas station. I called her on her cell phone and told her I love her. She laughed and we joked.

I told a coworker about the dreams I having that I was back in Iraq. He said I was back. Back here.

I'm feeling pretty bohemian again. And, I did dig on some vegan food in a hip restaurant yesterday. I also slept pretty damn good last night.

Whoa hoo hoo hoo
The Appalachianist

Twisterless

This is Bell. She's got a voice on her, the Patsy Cline of hounds.

Twister has decided to go off and become a hermit refusing to hunt and grow is Amish beard until the Catholic Church agrees to stop practicing organized religion. Actually, no. Twister didn’t hunt with us because he was on call for his job, he went Bow Hunting Deer instead. I went over a night early and had the run of Twisted Palace since he laid up at his girl friends house.

As it was going, it looked like the usual gang was spread out and it would just be me and Mike. He had two dogs loaded, his best bitch, Princess and another, Glory. I had Squeaky, my new Blue Tic/Cur combo, Bell and Twister’s Sally. We made the simple plan of heading to Otto, raising who we could on the radio and rigging. As it turned out we ganged up with the usuals on Coweeta Creek. A couple of others and their dogs walked a road around the side of the mountain to strike a track. I rigged Squeaky up Coweeta Creek and up to Albert Mountain with Mike behind me. With the boy’s below and me and Mike above we were making a pincer movement. Squeaky barked, a few times but he was just excited. Before we got to the end of the road a track had been struck down below. We stopped and listened…We didn’t hear anything. On our way back down, Mike caught them on his tracker .I headed out into a gap to catch it as it came across. A Bear, Hog, Deer, any game spooked or being ran will about always make for a gap. I could hear two dogs. At one point it sounded like they were coming right at me, then back down the mountain. Once, directly below. It got quiet after a period, I had been listening to broken transmissions over the radio and it seemed the race was heading away from me. Then the two dogs were hollering again. The entire time it was real hard to get a baring on the two hounds I could hear. Two of the guys said the treeing switches were going off, the dogs tracking collar was sending a faster signal meaning the dog was looking up. One decided not to pack any more dogs on it for the Bear may break and make it across the road into the Standing Indian Bear Sanctuary, where it is illegal to kill one. I got a baring and headed out to the hounds. It’s a rough country there, steep as a goats face. It was not going to be an easy go. Then it got quiet. I’d stop and listen, then they’d howl again, I’d go. It was beginning to sound more and more like they had not treed one. I was having to make across a broken, moss and leaf covered rock when Mike came across the radio telling me to come out. Coming out I had to use my rifle as a climbing stick a couple of times. Then it was back down the mountain to catch up with the others.


I came across one of the fellars trying to find his dogs, the race had came apart, old track they figured. I got down to a fork in the road called Reynolds Gap where I got out to check a young buckskin Plott male. My truck wouldn’t crank, it was my battery, had juice but not enough to crank. I ended up taking my connections apart and cleaning them good with a Coke Zero that one of the boy’s had dropped off ( a lady hiker from Florida had offered to jump me off, but I didn’t have her wait for me to put my connection back together). Fortunately, Mike had a jump box because we had to use it all the way back to Franklin and for me to get back over to Transylvania. I dropped off the dogs and went into Wal March down in Buttholeville, where I ran into the other half of Transylvania County that I ain't seen in years.

Sadly other than Squeaky being rigged, none of my dogs, including Twister’s Sally, got out of the box other than for me to water them and let them do their business. I was really looking forward to seeing how they did, and, Squeaky was itching, you could see it in him. Fortunately, I may be getting Squeaky bred. One boy has a registered female Plott Hound that is coming into heat here soon.

While I was on top o the ridge waiting in the gap, both me and Mike caught radio transmissions out of Blue Valley, the other side of Macon County on the Atlantic side of the devide. We had hunted it last year, that’s where me and Twister had the one Bear break out on us. The same boy’s that killed it about 45 minutes later downed one at 475lbs opening day according to story. Here in Transylvania one estimated at 550lbs was taken. It broke a 450lbs scale. During the race it killed a dog and messed another up. It’s said to have had fat on it as thick as a man’s hand is long.
Someone got paid to do that...

Sunday I went tromping back into a place I Deer Hunt. I hardly seen any Deer sign along the old road, I didn't see any acorns. I did flush a Grouse. It's an open south facing ridge looking off across the French Broad Valley. I saw a hickory tree just as green as summer. Yesterday evening I was looking around the house. In back there are two hickory's bright yellow, in front there is one still green. No lie, I have looked in the back yard and seen ice hanging on the limbs bending them down up the mountain side, and not a bit of ice in the front yard down the hill. It's an amazing world we live in.

This post is about long enough, so I'll stop right here. You'l can comment now.
The Appalachainist

The Drought

There was a drizzle at my house this morning...

The Band, "Garbage", the singer, attractive, the song, fits the weather.

Here are the lyrics if your dial up impatient.

Im only happy when it rains
Im only happy when its complicated
And though I know you cant appreciate it
Im only happy when it rains

You know I love it when the news is bad
And why it feels so good to feel so sad
Im only happy when it rains

Pour your misery down, pour your misery down on me
Pour your misery down, pour your misery down on me

Im only happy when it rains
I feel good when things are going wrong
I only listen to the sad, sad songs
Im only happy when it rains

I only smile in the dark
My only comfort is the night gone black
I didnt accidentally tell you that
Im only happy when it rains

Youll get the message by the time Im through
When I complain about me and you
Im only happy when it rains

Pour your misery down, pour your misery down
Pour your misery down on me pour your misery down
Pour your misery down pour your misery down
Pour your misery down on me pour your misery down
Pour your misery down pour your misery down
Pour your misery down on me pour your misery down
Pour your misery down

You can keep me company
As long as you dont care

Im only happy when it rains
You wanna hear about my new obsession?
Im riding high upon a deep depression
Im only happy when it rains
Pour some misery down on me

Im only happy when it rains
Pour some misery down on me
Im only happy when it rains
Pour some misery down on me
Im only happy when it rains
Pour some misery down on me
Im only happy when it rains
Pour some misery down on me ...

I listen to a station down in Athens, they played this whe it was raining the other morning.

The Appalachianist

premature Video Friday IV, Self Controll

I told you'll this is like the Ed Sullivan Show. This lady's name is Didem, not quite sure how it's pronounced, she's Turkish. Time wise it's 3:42, so it's a little dial up friendly.

Let's give this very talented young lady a hand...

Our next act needs little introduction, it's the great American Punk Band, now unfortunately mostly deceased, The Ramones with their friendly 2:26 seconds hit "I wanna be sedated!".

Moral of the video, when everyone around you is in chaos, be still.
If you can get both video's to play at the same time and mute the first one...She's belly dancing to The Ramones!

I was thinking of this song as we were waiting for the bird to take us out of Baghdad.

I got it out to you early. There is a red sky this morning. "Red sky morning, Sailor take warning".

The Appalachianist

Notes

I found the movie the picture below is from, Premonition starring the lovely Sandra Bullock. I knew there was a familiar beauty about that face. So now we all know.

I've got the new dog in place. That girl is one fast eater. I've got pictures, I'll tell you about her later.

Tomorrow is the 17th of October, it will be a year since I left Taji to come home on leave. Honestly, right now, if it wasn't for Hunting Season I'd just assume go back. Maybe not Taji though. And honestly, and probably cruelly in some of your eyes, I have little sympathy for the Iraqis as a whole. So, honestly, on the other hand, I'd assume not go back. I was left off of Reserves Sunday afternoon so I could attend my Cousin's Husbands Memorial Service, where I met a Lady who's son is on Taji.

Nearly a year ago, I caught something in the Iraqi night sky...Shooting stars. Before I could formulate a wish the Iraqis we're telling me something I had to devote my attention to. One night last week I saw a shooting star, and then another Saturday morning as I waited for the PT Test to begin. No distractions, I made my wish. Both twice. Pray for rain until it rains...Those of us south of the Mason Dixon Line ain't praying hard enough.

I went Squirrel Hunting after work today. I had been told there was a good acorn crop in there, and there was sign of them. In a similar type of area terrain wise I found plenty last Sunday evening. Star was with me and she followed me around. Poor Pup. When I had heard tell of the late freeze here this last spring (I was in Iraq) I was worried about the acorns. I'm noting where I see them and whee I don't. I may discuss it with you one day soon.

I did see one Squirrel. I had heard him barking and circled around behind it. Once I got in place it hushed, then reappeared. Yet, there was too much foilage and it was moving too much for me to shoot. I took my Remington Model 29 12 Gauge, which has an 18" barrel, so I get up close with it. I could opt for a further reaching gun, but, I took slugs along just in case I encountered something bigger in season, hint, Bear or Hog. I like Hunting them when there are leaves on the tree's. I stepped in the creek and felt the moisture against my foot. It went through the leather, but not the gortex. It's time to put the Bear Oil to them again.

My cell phone is malfunctioning again. It fell in the water two weeks ago...OK, a toilet. A clean one though. It went crazy, worked...Kinda, Started working right again last weekend and now is working kinda. It won't display anything on the screen.
The insurance people before said it was an invalid number, then it worked. Looks like I have to wrestle them again.

The inevitable happened last week. My Step Son, now 18, called. He talked to an Army recruiter. Which fed him some bull. But, he didn't mention me to the recruiter, smart boy. He called me Sunday, and wanted to talk to me Monday night. Then called me Monday morning to say he decided "not to enlist for now." He cited his young family, which was smart.

Tomorrow is going to be a good day, and I'm really looking forward to Friday.
Go ahead, say what you'll have to say.
The Appalachainist

Bear Season Pep Rally

It's that time all of you poor Earthlings have been waiting for...Just a few hours to Bear Season. I'm not sure what this will mean to you. It doesn't really matter, my Bear Hunting is about me. Me entails lots of things, more than just being a Hill Billy Adrenaline Freak. I know that it fascinates you...OK maybe that is a stretch, it catches your interest, so, I may write on it. You want to read some cool Bear Hunting stuff? Read this. When your out in those woods theres no "oneness with nature" or any of that sappy stuff, it's simply primal. A pure, simple, primal beauty. It's within, not without. It doesn't make you feel sentimental, it makes you feel good. Its in your soul. It just is.

I had Drill this weekend. I drove to Columbia SC Friday night. The National Guard Center was out of rooms, so I got one at Comfort Inn. I skipped the cheaper Motel 6 because the one time I stayed there the pillows really were to be desired. OK, they sucked. Comfort Inn's weren't much better. I did have a big 'ol bed. Big enough to sleep a man and three of his favorite female celebrities. It was about a dozen yards from the train tracks though. Yes, at 0200 the train came loud whistle and all. Got up, went and took a PT Test. Yes, I passed and I could have done better than if I had wanted to. I did surprise myself on my run. Weighed in, got taped for body fat...Made it. Looked at the new people I'm in charge of, one of which thinks everything I say is hilarious...Nice guy...Hardly any of them are there. Hmm...Have to check into that.

For some reason I always reach into the drawer and pull out the same pair of PT Shorts. I've had them so long the stink is permanent. The reflective "ARMY" lettering has turned brown. I've got newer pair, but grab the same ones. Are they subconsciously my favorite pair? I don't know. It's about time for them to retire though. Why did I tell you this? It crossed my mind. I'm also hoping it made you gag.

Speaking of gagging. I'm a gagger. So the Dental Exam Lady said the other day in Charlotte. She wrote "major gagger" on my card after she repeatedly jammed the great big huge cards into my mouth in order to X Ray my teeth. She said I gag real bad. Before I went to Iraq while I was at Ft. McClellan a Puerto Rican lady narrowed her eyes on me, pointed her finger and said in her heavy accent "you have a dangerous tongue". I don't like people sticking sharp things into my gums. Actually the Charlotte Lady was real patient with me. The Puerto Rican Lady put a hex on me I think.

Jason Isbell, formerly of The Drive By Truckers, CD, Siren's of the Ditch", song, "Try". (BTW, I didn't realise it when I added the video to the post it's over seven minutes long, dial up beware)


I've said all I intend to say tonight.
The Appalachianist.

Video Friday III, Bears, Panthers and Son Volt

Sometimes you win...


I don't often post something from a pass along e-mail. My cousin sent me this and I thought that it resonates...
There once was a man who had nothing for his family to eat. He had an old rifle and three bullets. So, he decided that he would go out hunting and kill some wild game for dinner. As he went down the road, he saw a rabbit. He shot at the rabbit and missed it. The rabbit ran away. Then he saw a squirrel and fired a shot at the squirrel and missed it. The squirrel disappeared into a hole in a cottonwood tree.
As he went further, he saw a large wild "Tom" turkey in the tree, but he had only one bullet remaining. A voice spoke to him and said, "Pray first, aim high and stay focused." However, at the same time, he saw a deer which was a better kill. He brought the gun down and aimed at the deer.But, then he saw a rattlesnake between his legs about to bite him, so he naturally brought the gun down further to shoot the rattlesnake. Still, the voice said again to him, "I said 'Pray, Aim high and Stay focused." So, the man decided to listen to God's voice. He prayed, then aimed the gun high up in the tree and shot the wild turkey. The bullet bounced off the turkey and killed the deer. The handle fell off the gun and hit the snake in the head and killed it. And, when the gun had gone off, it knocked him into a pond. When he stood up to look around, he had fish in all his pockets, a dead deer and a turkey to eat for his family. The snake (Satan) was dead simply because the man listened to God.

Moral of the story:
Pray first before you do anything, Aim and shoot high in your goals, and stay focused on God. Never let others discourage you concerning your past. The past is exactly that, "the past." Live every day one day at a time and remember that only God knows our future and that he will not put you through any more than you can bear.
Do not look to man for your blessings, but look to the doors that only He has prepared in advance for you in your favor. Wait, be still and patient: keep God first and everything else will follow.

Sometimes you don't...


But Silence knows, you can't drown a heart...

The band, Son Volt, the song, "Drown", the CD, "Trace"

The Appalachianist, spreading Appalachiaism as if it were a plague of joy...

Monday

I’m done with that bohemian crap for now. Due to a series of miscalculations… And out dated information, I buried Star about dusk. Parvo again. She had been vaccinated, but unfortunately, too early. See, pups are immune through the mothers milk until six weeks of age. At six weeks they get the shot, then another two weeks later and four weeks up until sixteen weeks of age. Some of this information I got from my Ex’s Step Daddy who’s a big Coon Hunter, which correlates with what I found on line. I had taken star over the mountain to Tennessee with me Friday night and she started showing symptoms Saturday on the way back. Sunday she just layed around, I took her scouting with me, she walked nearly a mile. Monday it was clear. I took her to work with me feeding her Muscle Milk in a squirt bottle every half hour. I would have told you she was going to make it. I got up and fed her at 2 in the morning, she’s still hanging in there…At 0600, she was un responsive. I was told she died about 0900.
When it was discovered that the last litter had parvo…He had been given the mama dog, which had it, the boy was out of town. Another guy went and gave the new litter shots, but he did at three weeks of age. I had it mixed up. My Ex’s Step Daddy, Gary, reminded me to shoot her up but to was too late. She was at six weeks when I got her, she was no longer immune despite the shot. She could have gotten it anywhere’s from where she came from to Mikes with his youngest daughter handing her up to me to here. I’m thinking here, somewhere I didn’t kill it.

Yeah, it sucks, but I’m trying to take it in stride. I don’t know how Mikes pups are doing today. As soon as I told him he sent one of his girls out for shots. He had dealt with it before with his daddy’s dogs. Bohemian Like You is on the radio, I can’t escape Bohemianism.

I’m getting a new dog already, Bell, a Blue Tick bitch about 14 months old. Gary has not been able to hunt her much, and she’s to “mouthy” for him. He has six dogs but the way he hunts he only hunts a couple at a time. So, he’s given her to me. He say’s she tree’s, hates a coon, but she will need to be worked. So, I’ll see what I can do with her.

Now for the funny part is, I thought I left my wallet at home. I turned the place upside down twice. I went back to work at 2000hrs dumpster diving to make sure I had not put it in the trash. I found a 12Gauge 3 ½ “ magnum, a bandless Swiss Army watch and Tomcatkittens perfume in my couch. I thought I gave that back to her? My Mother calls…She had grim news, which I’ll touch later. I told her I’m looking for my wallet. “Well, your house must be getting cluttered”…This is not the time and place…nor hers…I got short with her. My Military ID, Drivers Licenses, Debit Card, Hunting Licenses, my Ranger Coin…How could I lose it. I had to borrow $20 from a coworker for gas. I’ve got Drill this weekend and I need that stuff. This morning it dawned on me, I had emptied my pockets at the scale at work to weigh myself. There it was laying on a pallet at work. I had to laugh…I’m in such a habit of placing it in the right place in the mornings…

Grim news…My Cousins Husband passed from Liver cancer. His liver shut down yesterday and he passed just before midnight. Jerry was always smiling and often singing. He was a True Christian and an Independent Thinker. As a teenager, I had recommitted to Christ*, and he informed me that there would be no more coincides in my life…He was right. Through him it was set in me to realize that God was a God of Love, though it took me years to realize he was not a God of anger. Through the summer Jerry was in allot of pain, yet, he was just as pleasant and nice to people. He understood the white wash of politics, he knew that everyone from the County to the Federal Government was pouring water down our backs, and, talked about it with a smile. Once at a family get together, I don’t remember what over, he said “Tamaetoe, tahmahtoe…Which is it?” The jest being just because you slap a label on something doesn’t mean it’s different if not in principle. Jerry Gunter was a man of principle, and he’s on the other side of that white light smiling and singing.



* In my more mature hind sight, I realize I was just not acting like I thought I should. There was no real faultier in my faith.

Fun Alabama Style


It's cool
The Appalachianist

Hill Billy Bohemian

In the prior post, Video Friday II, a new comer, Dr. C , noted herself as being Bohemian. I misread it as me being bohemian. Am I bohemian? I thought…I put the question on the back burner of my mind. As I woke this morning I set out on a quest to find whether I was bohemian or not. What qualified me as bohemian? What exactly is a bohemian? I always thought them as a sort of beatnik. I pictured them as trend followers…I followed my quest to the New American Dictionary. Bohemian…The 4th definition “A person with artistic or literary interests that disregards conventional standards of behavior.” It suddenly dawned on me…I’m a bohemian. I felt enlightened, freer than I had five minutes before. No I don’t dig on vegan food (I used to live with a vegetarian that smoked nearly a pack a day) but, I know what Love is so I just don’t do as I’m told.(1) I refuse to go through life with the mentality of a trail horse, a drone following the same old rut succumbing to being a victim every day. I know that tradition is not better than what’s in the heart. I own my power!(2) I can read John Boyd and go “Wow” or read Robert Burney and say “Man this guy has a point”. I have artistic interests; I look at rocks, trees, and animals and see beauty. I think naked women are art. I am a Hill Bohemian. I see beauty in ordinary simple things. I see it in people’s silly grins, in the dogs in the yard, in the wind in the trees, in all of that gritty music I listen to. I am going to finish my novels.

This is not a shameful thing. That I’ve lived my life without a label…With people stumbling to find a category to put me in (Rosman NC is the worlds worst place for that). That I never really fit in one place. That my free minded, out of the box thinking and my appreciation for God’s awesome world is me. I can stand on top of Black Balsam Knob, high powered rifle raised over my head and shout that I can relate to Bob Dylan! A singing song writing, born again Christian Jew that likes to draw pictures of naked women and doesn’t let people tell him how to act. Just because there's a dog box in the back doesn’t mean there’s Trashville (3) Country on the radio. I set the standards of my life. “I wasn’t born to follow”, I am capable of feeling Truth.

(1)a spin on these white Stripe lyrics.
(2)I looked for a written definition of the term. The closest thing I found as this article by Robert Burney.
(3)This song by Hank III

I did not realize how well the two songs, "You Can't Roller Skate in a Buffalo Herd" by Roger Miller and "Bohemian Like You" by the Dandy Warhols tied in together. Both are cheerful songs and easy to sing along with...Both are empowering, but, the Dandy Warhols song is mostly about being hip...and hot for someone. Being Bohemian is empowering though.

Wado, It is good.
The Appalachainist

Video Friday II, Roger Miller and the Dandy Warhols

Words of wisdom from the great Roger Miller


And not so wise words from the Dandy Warhols. You Bohemians.


See you got two of them. Why? "Yeah I like you and I'm feeling so bohemian like you".
So, sing along. "You can be happyif you put your mind to it".
I oughta parody the Dandy Warhols...

The Appalachianist

Bear Dogs

That's Squeaky the Plott (Wildfork streak) being rigged on Labor day weekend, in a half hours time he winded a bear. Sally was in the box and she caught on quick.

That's Star, my little Kemmer Cur Pup, trying a tracking collar on for size, you've got to start them young. She's a little Houdini. She got out of the out building twice, found her sleeping with both squeaky and Bosco (mixed bread yard guard barking machine)

Alright, I'm tired of this! Look at those words up there only remotely relevant to this Blog. When I did the "It's Nice To Be Normal" post, it came out with "Drunken Friendship Quotes" and Love stuff...Stuff people would click on besides that ASU BS. That lasted a few hours and back to the nonsense...Speaking of...If your looking for information on Ranger Daniel Wilson HHC 3rd Bn 75th Rangers (3/75) or Ranger Chris Estes HHC and Bravo Co 3rd Bn 75th Rangers, 87 to 89 we can be found here. Speaking of Bravo company, it's the 3rd October, anniversary of Bahkran Market Mogidushu Somalia, AKA Black Hawk Down.

It's twelve days to Bear season, and we're going to hunt in a Big Country...Great song, goofy video...But, I like it...And I'm Scotish.


Her's the lyrics, see made it easy for you.

I've never seen you look like this without a reason,
Another promise fallen through, another season passes by you.
I never took the smile away from anybody's face,
And that's a desperate way to look for someone who is still a child.

CHORUS:
And in a big country, dreams stay with you,
Like a lover's voice, far as the mountainside..
Stay alive..

(I thought that pain and truth were things that really mattered
But you can't stay here with every single hope you had shattered)


I'm not expecting to grow flowers in the desert,
But I can live and breathe and see the sun in wintertime..

CHORUS [x2]

So take that look out of here, it doesn't fit you.
Because it's happened doesn't mean you've been discarded.
Pull up your head off the floor, come up screaming.
Cry out for everything you ever might have wanted.
I thought that pain and truth were things that really mattered
But you can't stay here with every single hope you had shattered.

I'm not expecting to grow flowers in the desert,
But I can live and breathe and see the sun in wintertime..

CHORUS [x3]

Easy Post, good night.
The Appalachianist

Grape Vines Think Alike...

Actually, Twister said "great minds think alike", but it sounded as if he said, "grape vines think alike". I can't remember what we were thinking. I assure you we were thinking though. The boy has done up and started growing a beard, says it make him hear better. I told him he looked like "Honest Abe", he said he thought he looked Amish. An Amish Mulungeon(BTW, did you see the Varga Pin Ups on the bottom of that page?)...Really, he is Mulungeon. So, this one is for you Twister!


The boy I got "Split" from made good and gave me another Kemmer Cur from a different litter. I've not yet settled on a name for her. I'm leaning towards "Star" on account as I was coming across the Mountain with her I was listening to The Cult wondering what to name her. The next song was "Star" and it's better than Eidie She's six weeks old now and cried terribly last night. I put her in my out building in a little cage deal I set up for her. Well I went this morning to check on her and found her in Squeaky's barrel. She had managed to get out,and climbed out under the gap in the door, so tonight, I have it barred. I should have known. Earlier in the yard messing with an old chain saw she I had to keep pulling her away from it. She cried and climbed on me so much coming across the Mountain I almost wanted to call her "Needy", but...Dabgummit, I'll call her Star. She didn't cry hardly today. I have a picture of her, but, I left my camera at work...Stay Tuned heathens.
Here's The Cult with "Star"


The boy I got her from stepped an a 4 ft Rattle Snake this weekend. Amazingly, it just layed there. They were hog Hunting in Georgia and got on a big one, that after being shot twice with a .22 Magnum, made off. The Dogs had too much of it's scent in their nose that they could not detect another track...It got away. Well, today, as I begin writing this is the 1st of October, fifteen more days to Bear season. Squirrel opens the same day, so, I'll squirrel hunt after work and Bear/hog Hunt on the weekends until time changes and its too dark after work.

Do you know what to call a group of bears? I didn't until today...They can be loners...A Sloth. Check it out Did you go down to Dogs? see what they call a pack of Curs? Cowardice? Nah, they ain't cowards. Kemmers are commonly blond (Star is), not yellow. They've got Grit, and so do Plotts. That's why I have them.


I'm a Hill Billy Adrenaline Freak and a Wild Hearted Son..."I'm just a bread of society..."
The Appalachinist