Some brief Monday morning tidbits...
I'm still wishing for a point & shoot digital camera, something I can A) carry everywhere, unlike my Canon EOS Rebel not-digital SLR, and B) take and use one solitary photo, without having to wait for processing an entire roll. So, if anybody out there wants to barter a 10+MP digital for free ad space, let's talk!
If I had a Point & Shoot digital, I'd have included in yesterday's pic-fest a dropped-trou shot of this blogger showing off something pretty spectacular.
No, not that.
I'm referring to an a black-and-purple bruise on the inside of the thigh area, that was incurred when kNockahoma tried laying down without warning his rider. Not just once...twice! The bruise is about this long (blogger holding hands this far apart) and this wide. Must've been from the saddle. And it's worth noting that it takes an awful force to bruise me. I got the right foot out of the stirrup both times, but could only curl the left out from what would be under the horse as he rolled toward his left side, so it wasn't him landing on me as much as my (unintended) trick-riding. Seriously, the bruise (today...8 days after the fact) is about 8" long by 3" wide.
I relate this account, in part, as a display of my willingness to poke fun at myself, because I do that almost as well as I ridicule others.
I freely admit that I'm carrying a couple extra pounds (tons), but Ted says kNockahoma was laying down because he's lazy and hadn't been ridden in 2 years. I'll take Ted's word for it...he's the only horse-rider I know that's about 40 lbs heavier than me. And for what it's worth, we have an exercise regimen that currently consists of talking about playing tennis when the weather starts cooperating. More on this as developments warrant.
As Paul Harvey would say, "And now...page...two!"
I swung on by the Upland Journal this morning, hoping to stumble on a topic discussing quail fields/coverts in North Carolina, which might actually hold birds (read: needle in haystacks). The ass-end of the season is this coming Saturday, and I'd consider a drive to the flatlands if it meant getting some bird-scent under poor Maggie's nose. Of course, I didn't find any of that, but I did see the new-ish thread about the owner/moderator's (Brad's) willingness to zap political content and posters. That thread is now 26 pages (wait, PAGES!) long. I read for about 90 minutes, and only had gotten through about page ten.
I used to be a member, but due to the fact that I was physically chasing work around the country, I lost my log-in information and quit actively posting. I have, however, remained a loyal lurker, and enjoy reading those guys' wit, sarcasm, and usual genius regarding dogs and guns and cooking and liquor and weather and wives and photography. Truly, I find myself living vicariously through some of their photo-essays. Very good stuff...check it out. I double-dog dare you.
But, the point I felt like making is that, especially now, everything worth talking about leads to a discussion of politics. And if I had a voice on that Board (I'm talking about the Upland Talk Bulletin Board, the overwhelming bulk of UJ conent)...if I had input on the solution posed by the thread regarding the culling-out of things (and posters) political, I'd vote for a separate compartment , maybe even semi-buried between "UJ Events/Shoots/Banquets" and "Upland Recipes". The issue, as I see it, is where & when debate turns into shit-slinging and name-calling. If there was that other compartment, when mud or feathers started flying...*poof*... it didn't go away...but it went...over there. "Over there" being the place to rant. The political compartment.
That said, though, I wouldn't want Brad's moderator responsibilities, and doubt seriously if anyone else could build something so fantastic. Any of y'all know them guys, tell 'em the Sweet Tea & Livermush guy says "keep up the good work."
Great jumpin' Jiminy Cricket...tidbits my fat hairy butt...
This is turning into an all-day-blog-a-rama event. At the top, it says "morning". I tell myself that I write slow to accomodate the fact that you don't read so fast.
But the thing is, I'm kinda getting this stuff outta the way. Clearing the runway, so to speak. 'Cause, kids, this blogger's drafting again...What is the blogger drafting on? Well, let's just say that it includes Barkorama and Abraham Lincoln...
Paul Harvey: "And now...page...three!"
One day this past week, after Googling "quail hunting" in the search nearby field, and coming up with a reference to a very nearby exotic big-game (wild boar, bighorn sheep, antelope, Angora goats, etc.) lodge, I went to visit that lodge, because as I said it's very nearby and I'd never been and maybe, if I have to go to a put & take pen-raised birds place, I might as well save on gas...
I met the proprietor and we chatted for a while. He confessed that he's never been able to get the birds to stick, and that the predators keep 'em thoroughly eaten...and speaking of predators... He has lots of bobcats and coyotes, and he even has evidence of panthers (!) roaming this county (this county, as in the one Maggie and I live in, and "evidence" as in trail-camera photos). Yikes-a-hootie. Oh, and if that ain't enough, "Did you hear about the recent sightings of The Creature?" he asks.
Apparently some neighbors have spotted a Sasquatch roundabouts. Seems we have everything but quail.
*Sigh*
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