Category: Rural and small-town living
Life far from freeways, Starbucks, malls, and other benefits/distractions
Here. It’s not at all intuitive how you use the main map to get the topo map you’re looking for. Mostly, zoom in, zoom in, and zoom in again until you see the little red rectangles for the quad you’re interested in. Select said quad map; save or open. Then zoom in, zoom in, and zoom in again on the quad map to see good things like logging roads and trails. (H/T MJR)
Right this minute I’m glad I decided to quit earning my living as a writer. ‘Cause if I were still A Writer, there’d be no excuse for the wordlessness that currently grips me. No longer being a Capital-W Writer, I’ll start with pictures. Photographs of a Box O’ Goodies that arrived a couple of days ago: Somebody — the name starts with C. — has a terrific memory. In addition to flower seeds and shoe treatments good enough to withstand the Northwet’s wettest, C has been observing conversations here on the blog and at the Cabal and saving stuff to…
Endarkenment. Been hearing that word a lot — most recently in this must-read Bill Buppert piece. (Via Joel) Barring some one-in-a-million chance, we are sliding into a long, dark time. When you have an intellectual class that’s gone insane, a wealthy elite that’s building bunkers for itself while looting the last of your liberty and prosperity, and a crusading enemy breeding new generations of superstitious intolerance, you don’t have a lot to build a future on. Unless it’s a future of rage, savagery, and chaos. But then, look on the bright side. The Endarkenment is a great age for Outlaws.…
I walked to town with Ava as usual this morning. We were crossing the street to the post office when out of the blue, another dog pelts straight at her and launches itself against her side, biting at her flank and legs. This monster-wannabe is only about 15 pounds of dirty gray fluff, so the biggest danger here, other than infected puncture wounds, is that Ava will turn and snap the rotten beast’s neck. To her credit, Ava — who has a history of reacting sharply to other dogs — keeps her cool. Me, not so much. I’m cussing and…
Normally around this time of year, I’d expect the first signs — well, foreshadowings — of spring. But given the frigidity of the present winter all happy signs and portents have been delayed. Until a day or two ago I had to settle for this: A squashed frog on the road a few blocks from my house. Not this particular deceased amphibian (whose photo I found online). But one of its relatives that I’ve had to step over on my walks to town. Damn strange first sign of spring. Frogs are usually late-season arrivals and not very plentiful; what a…
I haven’t been looking forward to this week. Midweek I’m scheduled to go to The Big City (the real one; not the nearby Walmart-bearing berg I laughingly call the big city) for a consultation with a surgeon, a specialist at a formidable teaching hospital. I dread both the doctor encounter and the drive, which is three times longer than any I’ve taken in Old Blue. And Blue is … old. And kind of creaky. Heck, while I’m at it, I might as well dread freeways, traffic jams, and ridiculously expensive Big City parking — all of which I worked hard…