Yeah I know, yall,s breath has been steady baited fer a bit o' news bout the bunkhouse progress.
Well here tis': we got twice by four "stud" walls ever-where 'cept the gee-rodge. (and my wallet is slimmin' down like the Titanic on a greased skid?) Pictures to foller for sure. I reckon bout the second tuesday in next week them carpentry suckas will start throwin' the rafters toward heaven, slap down a roof, and afore ya know it - who cares if it rains or not? (anybody got a tarpoleein i coulds wrap around the sides?)
Now iffen it will jest turn out as purty as aunt B's Apoochie Belly shack, we'uns will grin like possums eatin' JRM's garden groceries. Dang its fine to be WC country literate.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Icing
I hunted on a deer lease in Fredericksburg for 11 years. The lease was a hill country panorama of hills, cliffs, creeks, mixed trees, and wildlife.
I used to love to go before the season started to "scout" the deer, fill the feeders, repair the blinds, and clean the cabin. We would spend entire days roaming hill and dale while talking about past experiences on the lease.
At nightfall, we would build a fire in the iron potbelly stove and sit around it telling tall tales and generally being men in the company of other men with similar interests.
When the season started, more of the same. We would leave work on Friday and race to the hill country. We would stay on our private hunting preserve until Sunday night and then reluctantly drive back to Austin to our lives of normalcy.
I have rekindled this experience at the Tin Star. The last two months have been a pleasure of filling the corn feeders, putting out protein blocks, and preparing the deer stands. With each visit, I have taken pleasure in searching for tracks, examining droppings, and finding "rubs" on the trees where the bucks wore the velvet off their antler headdresses.
To be honest, on occasion I have actually "hunted" for deer, but that ancillary activity is nothing more than icing on the cake.
I used to love to go before the season started to "scout" the deer, fill the feeders, repair the blinds, and clean the cabin. We would spend entire days roaming hill and dale while talking about past experiences on the lease.
At nightfall, we would build a fire in the iron potbelly stove and sit around it telling tall tales and generally being men in the company of other men with similar interests.
When the season started, more of the same. We would leave work on Friday and race to the hill country. We would stay on our private hunting preserve until Sunday night and then reluctantly drive back to Austin to our lives of normalcy.
I have rekindled this experience at the Tin Star. The last two months have been a pleasure of filling the corn feeders, putting out protein blocks, and preparing the deer stands. With each visit, I have taken pleasure in searching for tracks, examining droppings, and finding "rubs" on the trees where the bucks wore the velvet off their antler headdresses.
To be honest, on occasion I have actually "hunted" for deer, but that ancillary activity is nothing more than icing on the cake.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Ladder Combs
When I was a yonker in East Tx, we all lived back in the sticks with town just a distant urban mystery.
Don't know how many people had locks on the exterior doors of their home, but I do know that absolutely no one I knew ever locked up their house. Not during the night. Not when they left on a trip. Never.
My Mom's Dad (Papuh) had a hasp lock his front door. One time he put a padlock on that door when he left the state. Thing is, he drove a nail beside the lock and put the key on the nail. I ask why and he said, "The lock will keep an honest man out of my house, the key will keep a crook from tearing up my door."
Hard to argue with old time country logic. Plus, if he had caught anyone triflin', he would have put a knot on their head so tall they would have to climb a ladder to comb their hair.
In all the days of my youth, I don't remember anyone ever reporting anything stolen from their house. Part of that is because we were so dang poor that we didn't have anything worth stealing. The other part was that it was a different time and a different moral code.
Oh yeah, folks would naturally stomp a mud hole in you if you diddled in such a way. A man would have to have more guts than you could hang on a fence if he chose to take from another's family.
The point of this rambling is that today we had a steel "safe room" bolted to the slab of the bunkhouse we are building on the ranch. We added this costly "luxury" in part so we could step in when a storm threatens to level the earth and all in our vicinity.
Nother part of it is that my bride wanted a sanctuary in the event some immoral varmit tries to break into our house. I go along with that part too. I don't want my better half hit with ricochets while I'm pumping lead into the ignorant son-of-a-bitch with the foolish audacity to enter my house without a proper invite.
I guess a lot of things have changed in this old world, but I confess to wishin' everyone could still leave their house unlocked and sleep sound at night.
Don't know how many people had locks on the exterior doors of their home, but I do know that absolutely no one I knew ever locked up their house. Not during the night. Not when they left on a trip. Never.
My Mom's Dad (Papuh) had a hasp lock his front door. One time he put a padlock on that door when he left the state. Thing is, he drove a nail beside the lock and put the key on the nail. I ask why and he said, "The lock will keep an honest man out of my house, the key will keep a crook from tearing up my door."
Hard to argue with old time country logic. Plus, if he had caught anyone triflin', he would have put a knot on their head so tall they would have to climb a ladder to comb their hair.
In all the days of my youth, I don't remember anyone ever reporting anything stolen from their house. Part of that is because we were so dang poor that we didn't have anything worth stealing. The other part was that it was a different time and a different moral code.
Oh yeah, folks would naturally stomp a mud hole in you if you diddled in such a way. A man would have to have more guts than you could hang on a fence if he chose to take from another's family.
The point of this rambling is that today we had a steel "safe room" bolted to the slab of the bunkhouse we are building on the ranch. We added this costly "luxury" in part so we could step in when a storm threatens to level the earth and all in our vicinity.
Nother part of it is that my bride wanted a sanctuary in the event some immoral varmit tries to break into our house. I go along with that part too. I don't want my better half hit with ricochets while I'm pumping lead into the ignorant son-of-a-bitch with the foolish audacity to enter my house without a proper invite.
I guess a lot of things have changed in this old world, but I confess to wishin' everyone could still leave their house unlocked and sleep sound at night.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Slabbin' Charm
My bro-law called at daylight this morn to say that he drove by the ranch and concrete trucks were lined up at the site of the house.
Bout noon-thirty, I drove out to investigate and observed the construction crew pumping the last bit into the garage area.
We be slabbin'.
Tomorrow they claim to be starting the framing.
The best news: We can't change the location of the house any more. I guess the TENTH time we moved it was the "charm"?
Bout noon-thirty, I drove out to investigate and observed the construction crew pumping the last bit into the garage area.
We be slabbin'.
Tomorrow they claim to be starting the framing.
The best news: We can't change the location of the house any more. I guess the TENTH time we moved it was the "charm"?
Monday, October 27, 2008
The Front Porch
Tomorrow the bunkhouse slab will be poured and Wednesday the builder will start throwing lumber at it.
Don't know if I mentioned, but we oriented the front porch toward the West. It is intentionally wide enough for two rocking chairs, one on either side of the front door. It is also conveniently located so that we can glance toward the pond to see what might come to water and see the deer come to the corn feeder placed there. Look straight ahead and you will be steady eyeballin' the San Gabriel River valley with magnificent copses of oak trees.
We have sat in lawn chairs at our front porch location over the years and watched wild turkey stroll calmly by, fawns stealthily hide in the weeds, and hawks cartwheel over the pasture in pursuit of prey.
Reckon I am already in the mood to point them rocking chairs toward the West and just drink in the sunset glory.
Don't know if I mentioned, but we oriented the front porch toward the West. It is intentionally wide enough for two rocking chairs, one on either side of the front door. It is also conveniently located so that we can glance toward the pond to see what might come to water and see the deer come to the corn feeder placed there. Look straight ahead and you will be steady eyeballin' the San Gabriel River valley with magnificent copses of oak trees.
We have sat in lawn chairs at our front porch location over the years and watched wild turkey stroll calmly by, fawns stealthily hide in the weeds, and hawks cartwheel over the pasture in pursuit of prey.
Reckon I am already in the mood to point them rocking chairs toward the West and just drink in the sunset glory.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Hammer Down
Visited our beloved Tin Star yesterday and found that we are fully "plumbed" and the inspector has blessed us with his green "approval" ribbon on the PVC network.
Today's labor of love is supposed to include digging the trenches for the concrete slab beams and placing the reinforcing steel.
The slab pour is scheduled for next Tuesday.
The beautiful bride is picking out the appliances and plumbing fixtures this morning (which would explain the loud sucking noise coming from the vicinity of my bank account).
It would seem that we are full bore, hammer down, bunkhouse building with a passion!
Today's labor of love is supposed to include digging the trenches for the concrete slab beams and placing the reinforcing steel.
The slab pour is scheduled for next Tuesday.
The beautiful bride is picking out the appliances and plumbing fixtures this morning (which would explain the loud sucking noise coming from the vicinity of my bank account).
It would seem that we are full bore, hammer down, bunkhouse building with a passion!
Monday, October 20, 2008
Bunk House Progress Report
Whooeee doggies!
The wooden forms for the slab are finished and the base material has been compacted in the forms.
This week is supposed to include plumbing, rebar, and concrete pouring (Friday?).
As soon as the slab "cures", they will start throwing lumber at that puppy from can til cain't. With luck, we can have it "dried in" before the winter rains start.
My beautiful bride is meeting with the builder's "choice" person once per week to "choose" all the colors, finishes, fixtures, etc., so they can be purchased and available immediately when needed.
I'm actually beginning to think that the ole ranch hand might pull this one off.
The wooden forms for the slab are finished and the base material has been compacted in the forms.
This week is supposed to include plumbing, rebar, and concrete pouring (Friday?).
As soon as the slab "cures", they will start throwing lumber at that puppy from can til cain't. With luck, we can have it "dried in" before the winter rains start.
My beautiful bride is meeting with the builder's "choice" person once per week to "choose" all the colors, finishes, fixtures, etc., so they can be purchased and available immediately when needed.
I'm actually beginning to think that the ole ranch hand might pull this one off.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Family, Faith, and FRIENDS
Friends: Iffen you is one, button up your bullitt proof vest, cross your laigs, and just weather the following storm.
I been cogitatin' this week bout my "friends". Mostly bout what they might have in common (and how the hell I have such magnificent privilege of their occasional company?).
I ain't talkin' bout beer suckin', Sunday only, drugstore friends; I'm talkin' cover your back, eliminate your enemies, gooder'n snuff and half as dusty, strong as a garlic milkshake, friends til you die "friends".
Yeah, I know, the best sermons is lived, not preached.
My soul buddies all seem to have rhinoceros hide, screw the world, bear breath, gonna "say what they think" kinda attitudes. They are redneck, conservative, all day, every day, manly tougher than a two dollar steak, right is right, and the rest of the world be damned, flag waving, rough-ass, patriot, sons-of-beloved-mothers that they respect eternally. They would wear a pair of pork chop panties and run thru a lion's den grinning bout the thrill. They share my heart felt philosophy that if you so much as touch the people I love, I will rip off your head and shit down your neck with the most cruel pleasure you can imagine.
If you knew my friends like I know my friends, all of the above would be obvious. If you walked in my shoes a spell, there are other things that you might never surmise.
These incredibly durable, strong, stare a hole in your soul men, all have a huge heart below their armadillo armor and a tender spot for wives, family, children and their Lord and Savior that forms the base of their character and loyalty to friends.
This ain't pissy-ass sentiment, senile dribble, or a concession to the liberal butt world that is consuming the obvious passion of those looking for a free lunch.
It is simply a statement to commemorate my appreciation for the MEN I have had the privilege of knowing who have kept the faith of character, honor, loyalty, and doing the right things for the right reasons, at the right time, every time, no matter the circumstances or challenge.
Gentlemen, I salute you with the most humble posture imaginable.
You are my wealth.
I been cogitatin' this week bout my "friends". Mostly bout what they might have in common (and how the hell I have such magnificent privilege of their occasional company?).
I ain't talkin' bout beer suckin', Sunday only, drugstore friends; I'm talkin' cover your back, eliminate your enemies, gooder'n snuff and half as dusty, strong as a garlic milkshake, friends til you die "friends".
Yeah, I know, the best sermons is lived, not preached.
My soul buddies all seem to have rhinoceros hide, screw the world, bear breath, gonna "say what they think" kinda attitudes. They are redneck, conservative, all day, every day, manly tougher than a two dollar steak, right is right, and the rest of the world be damned, flag waving, rough-ass, patriot, sons-of-beloved-mothers that they respect eternally. They would wear a pair of pork chop panties and run thru a lion's den grinning bout the thrill. They share my heart felt philosophy that if you so much as touch the people I love, I will rip off your head and shit down your neck with the most cruel pleasure you can imagine.
If you knew my friends like I know my friends, all of the above would be obvious. If you walked in my shoes a spell, there are other things that you might never surmise.
These incredibly durable, strong, stare a hole in your soul men, all have a huge heart below their armadillo armor and a tender spot for wives, family, children and their Lord and Savior that forms the base of their character and loyalty to friends.
This ain't pissy-ass sentiment, senile dribble, or a concession to the liberal butt world that is consuming the obvious passion of those looking for a free lunch.
It is simply a statement to commemorate my appreciation for the MEN I have had the privilege of knowing who have kept the faith of character, honor, loyalty, and doing the right things for the right reasons, at the right time, every time, no matter the circumstances or challenge.
Gentlemen, I salute you with the most humble posture imaginable.
You are my wealth.
Homeless
A minor detail of moving to the Tin Star involves divesting our present abode.
We been bustin' you know what for the last month to "fix it up" and to unclutter it.
"Fix it up" has included painting, flower bed work, minor repairs, purchases (new oven), and endless hours of backbreaking, sweaty stuff that we should have been doing anyway.
"Unclutter" has been to haul a load of treasures (trash?) to the barn each time we go and to fill the garbage each week. For clothes, if we ain't wore it in a year, it goes to Goodwill. For all else, if we forgot we owned it, can't remember the last time we used it, or just hesitate on keeping it, it gets chunked.
We have only lived in this house for 13 years, but we seem to have a century of crap piled up?
This weekend is supposed to be the most awesome weather of the year for Austin. Yep, gonna spend the whole sucka pounding on the house with the goal of putting a "FOR SALE" sign out front the first week of November.
That's right sports fans, if my plan works out, we will be homeless from the time the Austin house sells until we move into the new house. Anybody got any spare cardboard so we can make some signs and stand at a street intersection?
We been bustin' you know what for the last month to "fix it up" and to unclutter it.
"Fix it up" has included painting, flower bed work, minor repairs, purchases (new oven), and endless hours of backbreaking, sweaty stuff that we should have been doing anyway.
"Unclutter" has been to haul a load of treasures (trash?) to the barn each time we go and to fill the garbage each week. For clothes, if we ain't wore it in a year, it goes to Goodwill. For all else, if we forgot we owned it, can't remember the last time we used it, or just hesitate on keeping it, it gets chunked.
We have only lived in this house for 13 years, but we seem to have a century of crap piled up?
This weekend is supposed to be the most awesome weather of the year for Austin. Yep, gonna spend the whole sucka pounding on the house with the goal of putting a "FOR SALE" sign out front the first week of November.
That's right sports fans, if my plan works out, we will be homeless from the time the Austin house sells until we move into the new house. Anybody got any spare cardboard so we can make some signs and stand at a street intersection?
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Old Friend
When my Dad died in 1999, I served as the spokesperson at the "funeral". We chose to have graveside only. My bro-law Robert offered prayer. I offered my words to commemorate the life of my best friend ever.
Although I have done public speaking hundreds of times over almost four decades, that day represents the toughest speaking challenge I have ever faced.
The second greatest challenge came today. After the preacher did his part, I chose to address those gathered at the services for my friend, Luie. In a few humble words, I simply told those present that I loved him and would miss him.
It's hard to imagine that merely speaking can be such a trial and effort, but I managed to say my piece.
May God bless and keep you old friend.
Although I have done public speaking hundreds of times over almost four decades, that day represents the toughest speaking challenge I have ever faced.
The second greatest challenge came today. After the preacher did his part, I chose to address those gathered at the services for my friend, Luie. In a few humble words, I simply told those present that I loved him and would miss him.
It's hard to imagine that merely speaking can be such a trial and effort, but I managed to say my piece.
May God bless and keep you old friend.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
New Frontiers
In the ongoing saga of epic new frontier exploration, we will sojourn at the Georgetown title company manana and sign the paperwork to commemorate our latest financial obligation.
That's right sports fans, we will have reached the River Styx, crossed over into Jordan, and refused to glance rearward to Sodom and Gomorrah lest we morph to pillars of salt. Nother words, we be full steam with no return building a bunk house on the rancho.
Ya gotta love it.
Again, pray for continued drought til the house is dried in, and then pray for flood to fill our new lake. Aw hell, just pray and we will be proud of however it all turns out.
That's right sports fans, we will have reached the River Styx, crossed over into Jordan, and refused to glance rearward to Sodom and Gomorrah lest we morph to pillars of salt. Nother words, we be full steam with no return building a bunk house on the rancho.
Ya gotta love it.
Again, pray for continued drought til the house is dried in, and then pray for flood to fill our new lake. Aw hell, just pray and we will be proud of however it all turns out.
Monday, October 13, 2008
LUIE
My neighbor has been a bull of a man. Big and strong in his body and stronger in his convictions.
We have been extremely close friends for the 13 years that I have lived across the street. He has been the kind of friend that I knew would do anything in his power to help me and who would defend me and my family with violence if called upon to do so by circumstances.
A few months ago he told me that he had been diagnosed with a degenerative lung disease.
A few weeks ago he told me he would have to carry an oxygen bottle around in order to breathe.
Last week he told me he was going to need a lung transplant if he could get healthy enough to be considered.
A few days ago, he went into the intensive care unit of a local hospital due to pneumonia and an infection that was ravaging his body.
After a few days in ICU, his wife called me to say that Luie wanted to see me. With tremendous effort, he lifted his oxygen mask and said he wanted to tell me goodbye.
Full grown, redneck, manly men don't cry in public, hold each other's hand, or say, "I love you" to each other.
Together we shed a river of salty tears for mutual respect, unspoken admiration, and sadness for the end of our time together. Then we held each other's hand and said to each other with trembling voices, "I love you".
My friend slipped the bonds of earth today and my heart is aching. I wish he was here again so that I could hold his hand and tell him that I love him as one of the best friends I ever had.
We have been extremely close friends for the 13 years that I have lived across the street. He has been the kind of friend that I knew would do anything in his power to help me and who would defend me and my family with violence if called upon to do so by circumstances.
A few months ago he told me that he had been diagnosed with a degenerative lung disease.
A few weeks ago he told me he would have to carry an oxygen bottle around in order to breathe.
Last week he told me he was going to need a lung transplant if he could get healthy enough to be considered.
A few days ago, he went into the intensive care unit of a local hospital due to pneumonia and an infection that was ravaging his body.
After a few days in ICU, his wife called me to say that Luie wanted to see me. With tremendous effort, he lifted his oxygen mask and said he wanted to tell me goodbye.
Full grown, redneck, manly men don't cry in public, hold each other's hand, or say, "I love you" to each other.
Together we shed a river of salty tears for mutual respect, unspoken admiration, and sadness for the end of our time together. Then we held each other's hand and said to each other with trembling voices, "I love you".
My friend slipped the bonds of earth today and my heart is aching. I wish he was here again so that I could hold his hand and tell him that I love him as one of the best friends I ever had.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
ALPHA DAWG
On occasion I feel the testosterone driven urge to assert my considerable manhood as a manly man.
At a recent meeting with our builder, I loudly proclaimed in a gruff voice that I would settle for no less than four walls, a roof, and that our new house be warm and dry.
I then meekly pointed to my beautiful bride and allowed that she would be making all other decisions.
Guess I showed them who the alpha dawg is in this wolf pack.
Yesterday, the bride picked our limestone masonry, shingle color, windows, and narrowed down the choices on the stucco and sheetrock finishes.
I'm not impressed. I already made all the hard choices bout walls and such.
At a recent meeting with our builder, I loudly proclaimed in a gruff voice that I would settle for no less than four walls, a roof, and that our new house be warm and dry.
I then meekly pointed to my beautiful bride and allowed that she would be making all other decisions.
Guess I showed them who the alpha dawg is in this wolf pack.
Yesterday, the bride picked our limestone masonry, shingle color, windows, and narrowed down the choices on the stucco and sheetrock finishes.
I'm not impressed. I already made all the hard choices bout walls and such.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Lake Fillin'
Whoop-dee-damn-doo!
The machinery started scratching in the dirt on the Tin Star today as the construction crew knocked down a tree or two and leveled the bunk house building site!!!!!!!
Before dark, they squared off the corners, drove stakes in the ground, and started up with the forms that the slab will be poured in.
Pretty exciting stuff for a couple of poor country bumpkins that are shooting for the big time with this new ranch residence.
All ya'll pray for dry weather til "dry in", then a flood til the new lake fills, and the lowest mortgage interest rates in history.
The machinery started scratching in the dirt on the Tin Star today as the construction crew knocked down a tree or two and leveled the bunk house building site!!!!!!!
Before dark, they squared off the corners, drove stakes in the ground, and started up with the forms that the slab will be poured in.
Pretty exciting stuff for a couple of poor country bumpkins that are shooting for the big time with this new ranch residence.
All ya'll pray for dry weather til "dry in", then a flood til the new lake fills, and the lowest mortgage interest rates in history.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Santa Claus
I spent the past weekend trimming limbs and shredding weeds with Big Dawg on the Tin Star and that rural acreage is now purtier than pig nipples. The best part is that it should stay that way til spring.
As we pulled out of the gate to drive back to Austin yesterday, a flock of 23 wild turkeys walked along beside the fence as if to say they would watch the place for us while we were gone.
Life is good, and it will soon include our new address on County Road 208.
We feel like two kids waiting for Santa Claus to visit!
As we pulled out of the gate to drive back to Austin yesterday, a flock of 23 wild turkeys walked along beside the fence as if to say they would watch the place for us while we were gone.
Life is good, and it will soon include our new address on County Road 208.
We feel like two kids waiting for Santa Claus to visit!
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
The Artist
Big "R" is my bro-law.
He is one of my best friends ever, has a charitable heart the size of TEXAS, fathered our absolutely awesome nephew, and he is one of the most talented people I have ever known.
This renaissance man I have the privilege of calling my friend is a mechanic, welder, fabricator, rancher, truck driver, plumber, electrician, fence builder, calf-puller, (8 millimeter film star????), raconteur, expert operator of all things motorized, and all around great guy.
Today I learned that he is a world class ARTIST with a dozer blade. At my pleading, Big "R" was kind enough to "clean" and "shape" our modest pond on the Tin Star Ranch.
Lord have mercy on my soul! I drove by and looked at that puppy today and my jaw dropped to my knees. Our humble stock tank is now a full 1/2 acre, deep as the river Jordan, and shaped like an exquisite piece of Hopi pottery. It is a piece of art, sculpted by the careful hand of an artist. I'm talkin' prettier than a speckled pup under a wagon with his tongue hangin' out!
I'm not sure why an old fat man like me is so dadgum fortunate to have the pleasure of the friendship and companion of Big "R", but I feel truly blessed.
He is one of my best friends ever, has a charitable heart the size of TEXAS, fathered our absolutely awesome nephew, and he is one of the most talented people I have ever known.
This renaissance man I have the privilege of calling my friend is a mechanic, welder, fabricator, rancher, truck driver, plumber, electrician, fence builder, calf-puller, (8 millimeter film star????), raconteur, expert operator of all things motorized, and all around great guy.
Today I learned that he is a world class ARTIST with a dozer blade. At my pleading, Big "R" was kind enough to "clean" and "shape" our modest pond on the Tin Star Ranch.
Lord have mercy on my soul! I drove by and looked at that puppy today and my jaw dropped to my knees. Our humble stock tank is now a full 1/2 acre, deep as the river Jordan, and shaped like an exquisite piece of Hopi pottery. It is a piece of art, sculpted by the careful hand of an artist. I'm talkin' prettier than a speckled pup under a wagon with his tongue hangin' out!
I'm not sure why an old fat man like me is so dadgum fortunate to have the pleasure of the friendship and companion of Big "R", but I feel truly blessed.
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