It's a Psychoblogger Freak Out!!!

I mentioned some new pups. There's two of them. A male and female. The male is bigger and bolder than the female. I was perplexed as to what to call him. I've settled on Horton. I named him after the Reverend Horton Heat. I almost named him Iggy after Iggy Pop, so being because I saw him strolling across the yard one day and I thought of the line from Search and Destroy "I'm a street walking cheetah with a heart full of napalm". But, the more I watched him, the more I thought it didn't fit. He isn't really a Punk Rock Dog. He's more Rockabilly, he reminds me of The Reverend Horton Heat. He's a little blocky and stout, wide mouthed too. He's more smooth and rolling with licks, not the crashing almost too filled with energy crudeness of Punk Rock. He's more stand up bass, less growl.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Heathens alike, the Reverend Horton Heat!


Now the little female pup I call Star, so named after one of the Cur Pups I lost. Which, was named after The Cult's Star for which I had playing on CD when I got her.
So, without undue applause, The Cult!


Star is about a third smaller. When I got them I reached for another of the litter, but it walked behind the rest and I couldn't reach it, Star though wiggled up to the front and I picked her up. She was the runt, sucking left hind tit. She's sweet, reserved, but friendly, and programmed. Yes, programmed.
See, Horton is hungry pup and flat out greedy. He wants what ever someone else has. I feed them separately and he spy's her food and runs to it. Star then mosies over to his abandoned bowl, until he spy's her eating from it and they trade places again. I observed he was getting the better of it, so, I put her up on one of the houses. She would stand in the door to the outbuilding where I pan up the food waiting for me to pick her up. That was CoCo's house, which when I started that I had locked up while she was in heat. Which, reminds me of The Reverend Horton Heat again...
So, after CoCo got out of Cur Dog Gulag, I started feeding Star about 15 feet away, I'd look behind me and there she would be, waiting in the door way for me to come and get her. That worked fine for a bit but, Horton began to spy her...Now, I just feed her in the building.

They wrestle in the yard, wonder around, follow Bosco...You know Bosco...I sneaked a picture of her! Yep, that's the fickle thing right there!
But, they are healthy and happy. Unique too.

Snow and Sleet and other things that's neat...
The Appalachianist

Someday

"And if you see the dark clouds gathering out on the horizon don't be alarmed they're just there for me"

Here lately, I get up at 3AM. I turn the TV on for a few minutes as I tie my boots. I watch the weather feed out of Greenville SC's Channel 4. But, the other feed is NBC programming. We've beeen barraged with the Connan news, The Late Night fellar. He has been getting reran at 3AM. Well, I saw he's gone now, and they put Meet The Press in the 3AM time slot. One comedy for the other.



I also locked my hubs at 3:20 Am. With the ground thawing and the rain the dive way is plumb mud. At 3:22 AM I unlocked the hubs. Some time after 4PM, I'll lock the hubs again. The days are just kinda running in to each other.

I've had the Army Reserves twice this month. I was in Charleston SC for a meeting Saturday. I don't care for Charleston. But, both Saturday and Sunday I got to sleep until 6AM. That's my usual waking hour. That's the time my body says, "get up, roll over, get your brain engaged, do something".

Last Monday there was black Ice on US64. I drove across it not knowing at a faster rate of speed than normal. Again, I never knew it was there. Later four cars got piled up in the ditches there. God looks after me. At times I wonder why, but, I suppose he has his reasons.

So, getting up every morning I feel like I'm getting up and dusting myself off. It's like there is some distant goal in the distance I sometimes lose sight of...Putting one foot in front of the other. "Yeah, one day I'll gt it right"...Try and try again...Oh yeah, I know what it is again. I just know one day I'll get it right.

You know me, "Just cause I don't run my mouth don't mean I got nothing to say", but, I've said all I need to say for now.

The Appalachianist

Just Me Preaching

I'm no pundit, but, I am a Tax Payer. I'm no genius, but I've got some sense. Using the sense that God gave me is my right and my duty.

Don't expect miracles. Miracles are a thing of God, not us. We're foolish mortals, that, do possess good sense, but, not enough for miracles. God does miracles, we stand in awe.

The United States has been pouring money into Haiti for a very long time. In recent memory we came a hair of invading them, because we didn't like their new boss. Once upon a time in the 80's when I was on Active Duty, we were giving a heads up that we might be sent in to pull out Americans over unrest. It didn't happen. Missionaries from the United States has been, since we don't know when, making trips, preaching, giving, helping and just plain being friendly down in Haiti. I don't know how much money, and I wouldn't be surprised if the real numbers were fudged, but none of it has made the place a utopia. None of it has stopped corruption. Some children were fed and clothed. Some friends were made. Still, the place is a state of chaos.

You can laugh and throw rocks at Pat Robertson, say it's the hand of God, or just a terrible action of Mother Nature. But, it is God's Earth. And, we're not "God's Children", we're his people. He gave us sense, not enough for miracles, but enough to manage. He intended us to be responsible and help ourselves. We're God's People.

Well, it doesn't take a Scholar to tell you what happened in Haiti has been a terrible Human Tragedy. It's really bad and it can happen any where. It could happen to us. As a Nation, helping out is a neighborly thing to do. It's the Christian thing to do. It's just plain compassion. It doesn't matter what form of Heathen you are. But, it's going to start here soon. We're going to want to fix things. We're going to fix this, that and the other. We're going to want to change things. There can be a fine line between helping and meddling. The Private Sector will be where the real help comes from.

I'm not wanting to preach. I say this as a word of caution.

The Appalachianist

Just A Dull Post

I've been caught up with work. I've pulled some long hours and then some spare moments were tied up with me doing my First Sergeant Gig. So, all work and no play makes The Appalachianist a dull boy. Thus, no post from me.
I could talk about the weather...It's just been flat out cold. Though today was quite a bit warmer. I could talk about any what not...

My little Cur Dog, Co Co is out of heat. She must have felt punished being penned up. She kind cowered and stood back from me when ever I fed her. Sensitive little dog, she is. I've been told Curs are like that. I've got some pictures of those Kemmers on FaceBook...AKA FaceBore...And folks ask me for one as a pet. Co Co ain't like them. She's brindle, has a smaller head and is not as big. I actually prefer a blocky head dog of a medium build. But, I can say, she is smart and a fast little Dog. She's got tight little feet as well.

Those poor folks in Haiti. In some ways it's better it happened on land than out in the Ocean. It's bad though. It couldn't have happened to anyone worse either.
I've felt some Earthquakes here. I've sat up in bed with the house shaking. I could only imagine what that 7.0 felt like. As a Nation, we waste allot of money on foreign aid and get ourselves consumed in other nations affairs. This is one time we need to get involved and give. It's the Christian thing to do. Anything else would be a sin.

It's been a dull post...Hey, but, I posted;)

The Appalachianist

Dogs Are Tough

Here we are, 2010 and the thermometer hasn't busted out of the 20's yet. We're burning the wood here at Appalachian Patria Central, and plenty of it. Twice a day I'm having to break the dogs water up with an ax. The Dogs, they're all settled down in a bed of cedar chips. The air is stinging your cheeks outside and someone is watching a documentary on global warming. Irony at it's best.

I don't suppose, I've mentioned my Co Co Dog. She's a little brindle Cur I got as a pup this summer, about the time I got back from Ft. Knox. She's six months now and it's time to start tethering her. She just came into heat the first time. I've got two little Plott/English mixes too. They are little. Full brindle coats with a dash of white on their chest. I'm keeping them for six months and deciding on which to keep. They've paid the cold no attention. I ax the water and they come running, drink up some water and go on to wondering and playing. It's fun to watch them.

Last Saturday we hunted Macon County and had to throw the dogs across the rushing creeks. It was cold, I got in water over my boots and about froze my feet off. It was nice to put new socks on at the truck that evening. One time I looked down at Rebel and he had steam coming off of him. Dogs are tough.

The Appalachianist