It happens. Personal relationships have the leverage to penetrate your thick skin and make it sting. The old adage, Opposites Attract, is true. I'm not the type to take the offensive to someone I love but obviously the person I married is ready willing and able. Sheesh...

The absolutely awesome thing about this world is that there is so many things to write about. Sometimes there big things...sometimes they're small. Sometimes they're positively Steven Wrightish... In case you're wondering who the hell Steven Wright is, he's a dead-pan deliverer of blinding funny observations and twisted fantasy. In other words, he's a comic with a twist.

Today, it occured to me, rolling down greasy blacktops on lonely country miles that although we aren't supposed to mind others business, we certainly can smell it. Let me explain. I live in Central Illinois. Literately painting a picture, it's cornfield, beanfield, cornfield, fallow field, farmhouse, beanfield, beanfield, cornfield, roadkill skunk, beanfield. It would instantly be recognizable to someone living here back in the 1800s. Agriculture is king and communities are basically cattle pens for the elderly and the young who haven't moved off into their own lives yet. I think you get the idea.

Now, the meat of the subject...orifactory data gathering. We inhale and exhale in order to function. Somewhere back in time, the brain decided to install an update. Suddenly we are aware of the smell of our cave mates, the acidic smell of approaching grass fires, the sweet scent of flowering trees and Uggs Johnson down the hill roasting a buffalo hindquarter over an open fire. I'm all for that...flash forward, of course. I revel in the scent of bbq on a warm summer day, the warm, sensual scent of perfume on a womans neck. The mind-clearing fumes of pure peppermint and the wet dog smell of blankets left in storage from last wet season. I love it.

Now, sometimes smell can become a bane to existance. Here's why. You know I live in a rural area. Livestock in this area is predominately swine and foul. Nothing I wasn't exposed to when I was a child growing up. As a matter of fact, I have fond memories of the smell of farm animals when I was small. Somehow, it was a clean, organic blend of straw, hay, feed and grasses and it felt right.

Now, we are no longer small farm communities. We have to farm thousands of acres to feed ourselves. We raise 400 pigs instead of 4. Our turkey farms boast flightless birds that can barely keep upright because of the excess weight they are bred to carry. We birth them, brood them, ween them, feed them, breed them, kill them and sell them without them ever seeing the light of day. Their existance is blind to the world around them..they are born to die. Alas, that is the way of big agri-business today.

And, Alas, that is the subject of this rambling rant...the smell of hundreds of livestock, living almost on top of each other, doing nothing but eating and shitting is mentally toxic to me. It is an abomination to my soul. To be blasted through my open window by gutwrenchingly sour smell of ammonia or ponds of pig feces is the end to a warm sun on my face afternoon. All I want to do is go home and take a warm shower to wash off any bit of smell that has clung to me. Damn it to hell!

Suddenly, it occured to me. These animals have only two recourse in this existance of theirs. If they're no happy, they can either stop eating and die or display their discontent with amazing feats of shittery. Yes, shittery..if it's not a word, it should be. I think each and every one of those pigs and turkeys are looking at their keepers and thinking.."here, let me show you what I think of your hospitality!" Come to think of it...there's a couple of times that response might have come in handy for myself. Luckily, I have other recourse in my life and I don't have to leave a stinking pile of poop on the county clerks desk everytime they raise my taxes. Grinning.....Thinking......There ya go...smell how pissed off I am.

Ok...I don't know where that came from...I'm not usually prone to poop prose but anyways..I feel better for now.

Peace and Love and Free Range Forever....

You know the old joke about Maternity Wards being the best place to hang out if you're looking to score? Because you know those ladies give out!...lol.

So, Happy Mothers Day and watch out for the guy in the corner of the Ward taking notes, wink.

Peace, Love and Mom's Skirts

Hahaha, not hers, mine. In my amazing comprehension of the ways of Mother Nature, I just knew it wasn't going to get cold again around here till next Sept/Oct. Foolish me. I am replacing our heat source and thought this last weekend(when it hit 83)would be a great time to tear out the old in preparation. No rush, I thought...I have plenty of time to install the new one...yeah right.

So, now it's 62 in here. Someone unplugged the large space heater I was using to ward off the chills and I may actually have to wear a bunch of clothing to stay warm. What's the use of spring and summer if you can't run around in next to nothing..sheesh.

Two months ago, I would have be excited about 62 without running the heat, now I'm shivering like a shorn sheep. Sadly, the next two weeks are going to be cooler for us and I'm definately going to have to adjust again. Illinois...if you don't like the weather now..just wait a couple of hours! At least the 30mph winds have slowed down. Alright...got my cry on and I'm feeling better, just not warmer.

Peace and Love and Flannel...Doug

It's been a long voyage. Most of it over rough waters but finally I drew berth in the protected cove known as NBN. Determined to jump ship asap, I grab the nearest flaggon of rum and lusty wench in a frenzy to feel human again. Oh, wait...that's not me...I'm the guy in the middle of cornfields and frumpy housewives..sigh...damnit

Perhaps the arrival of Spring has made me feel human again and I've realize that I've been ignoring those things that should remain important to a creature of flesh and blood. Keeping contact with friends is not only a pleasure but a courtesy. I mean, they took the time to befriend you and the least you could do is return the favor. So, all of you lifers out there...I came, I saw, I waved hello.

I will make a supreme effort to flesh out my blog in the near future. Just wanted to warm the fires and sweep the door stoop in preparation of company. Luv you all

Tucked away in my fridge is a bottle of spiked eggnog, snicker. Pre-spiked at that. They added bourbon, rum and congac and sold it to me for a mere $5.99. Imagine that.

What I'm wondering is at what age do you start appreciating these little conveniences? I can remember not too long ago declaring proudly, "I can do it myself", knowing that only I could correct the situation to my satisfaction. Somehow, I've slipped into an easy "hey, it's already done for me" mode and I don't recall getting here. Ok, let's face it...I didn't really always know how to do it the right or best way but I lived with my mistakes in proud ignorance. He-man, grunt...me do that! Today, shortcuts aren't the occasional forey...they're the norm. Time seems tighter and my feet get tired quicker. I'm all for holiday conveniences.

I go to a grocery store where they still deliver your bags to you vehicle. I like the buffet because you don't have to order a specific entree and eat it even if it's not what you really wanted. I revel in online shopping and delivery to your doorstep. I have a phone that does everything but the dishes. I have a jacket that's reversable so it can be clean on one side always. I like couches that have built in cup holders and side-tables. Physical shopping has become a breeze with the advent of big box stores selling everything from frozen corn to spare tires. Most of all, I like that fact that my head doesn't need a pillow to fall asleep on...I seem to have adapted to any semi-flat surface or even the prone position to catch a few z's.

If this what it means to be old? An old hippy, at that. In my 20s, I would be stomping the floor and shaking my fist at the lax attitude of America today. Today, there's a nice soft carpet on the floor and my hands mostly just press buttons or scratch my belly.

I have to think about this for a while. Maybe go back to single ply toilet paper or actually dice up vegetables for stirfry. Baby steps...remember that..baby steps.

Ok, fine, baby steps because it's icy outside and I don't want to end up on my fanny...sheesh.

Peace and Love and Geritol....

Doug

It's been a couple of months, people...bad Dougie... Tis the season and believe me...spare time is not one of the presents sitting under the tree right now. For someone like myself...prone to curl up in a quiet spot and hide for a while..this is like hell week on fraternity row. Constant stress and everything starts out in 3rd gear. What I wouldn't do to be sitting on a desert isle right now, lol.

Who knows if I'll get back before the Holidays really hit so, Happy Holidays, prematurerly for all my pervilicious friends.

I wasn't able to tell you about pumpkin bridge, thanksgiving, birthdays, funerals, etc. Perhaps I'll have to get back to those in the future. Right now...it's all about the tinsel.

I'm a fairly simple man, when it comes to needs. A place to sleep, good conversation over a fine meal, enough money to buy something small when I get the urge, enough underwear to get me through the week without doing laundry 3 times, women who know they're sexy as hell and don't mind me looking and admiring, care packages from Germany and you peeps. That said...Christmas is such a gluttonous experience when it comes to consumer goods. I will never understand the lure of Black Friday or the charm of standing on a frozen sidewalk with just the promise of a chance of an opportunity to pick up some ridiculous bargain. If I go to a crowded place..it's to people watch, not to shop. Unfortunately, I was talked into it this year. It took every bit of my strength not to foster an immense hatred of people in general. It make me wonder if Christmas shopping is not the main cause for the hermit's life. Pushing and shoving for what...overpriced plastic and electrical contacts needing accessories and a small pile of batteries before it can even begin to reach it's potential for short term entertainment..sheesh.

Ok..that's a bit heavy handed and selfish. I apologize. I realize that the smile and hugs make it all worth it but as soon as those are done with..you're planning for the next time. The hook is that you have to somehow outdo this years gifts in order to achive that "holilovin" state once more.

I've come to the conclusion..having one teen at home yet, that her first gift should have been a piece of paper, followed by a pencil, then an eraser. If I had done that, maybe now, most of her gifts wouldn't be in the triple digit range..grrrr.

Suddenly, a nice warm cave with internet access doesn't sound so bad.

Anyways, Peace and Love and Credit Cards w/ minimal interest..

Doug

I feel so out of sorts tonight. Not physically really, it's just that sometimes you wish you had someone actually listen to you and act like you mattered. Is that too whiney? To be holding someones hand and sitting close enough to feel the warmth of their breath. Speech in whispers meant only for you. Aural strength coming from them and wrapping you in a safe, secure embriotic embrace. That would my fix..my junkies needle right now. I crave it. It leaves my body wracked with self-doubts, physical twinges and tics, furtive glances over my shoulder for someone not there.

Sigh, buck up, cowboy. Just get used to it and sooner or later, you won't even miss it. Damn...I sincerely hope that never happens to me because, if it did, life would be so solitary and useless.

Enough self-serving sorrow..

Peace and Love and Embraces when you need them.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe


Ich ging im Walde I was walking in the woods
So für mich hin, Just on a whim of mine,
Und nichts zu suchen, And seeking nothing,
Das war mein Sinn. That was my intention.

Im Schatten sah ich In the shade I saw
Ein Blümchen stehn, A little flower standing
Wie Sterne leuchtend Like stars glittering
Wie Äuglein schön. Like beautiful little eyes.

Ich wollt es brechen, I wanted to pick it
Da sagt' es fein: When it said delicately:
Soll ich zum Welken, Should I just wither
Gebrochen sein? Be picked?

Ich grubs mit allen I dug it out with all
Den Würzeln aus, Its little roots.
Zum Garten trug ichs To the garden I carried it
Am hübschen Haus. By the lovely house.

Und pflanzt es wieder And replanted it
Am stillen Ort; In this quiet spot;
Nun zweigt es immer Now it keeps branching out
Und blüht so fort. And blossoms ever forth.

I have planted two new flowers in my garden...and now I wait for them to grow, spread and flower. There are five of us now and I think we will become a bouquet, bound tightly together, our stems resting against each other and our heads looking out for all to see.

Peace and Love and wir sind Familie

Maybe the first thing you think about when Germany is mentioned is a big stein of beer. Me...it's all about the mustard.

In my possession is a large jar of real, pungent, tantalizing and unparalleled German Mustard....and I'm not afraid to use it.

It calls to me from the refridgerator, it winks as me every time the door is opened. I find myself daydreaming about mustard sandwiches, mustard on my cereal, mustard in my coffee. I can't stop sampling it with my finger. I'd put other parts of me in it as well but I'm not able to lick it back off. "Note to self: must work on becoming more flexible". I want to wash in it, sleep in it, make a hat out of it and wear it on my head....mustard, glorious mustard...yummy.

Hey, nosey...what are you looking at...don't get any ideas...that mustard is off limits. Don't make me whack you. It's mine, my mustard, all miiiiiinnnnnneeeee...Ya ha ha(maniacal laughter)

Not too obsessed, am I..lmao

Peace and Love and Spice of Life