The day that Deb and I picked up our soon-to-be-verboten gas stove and hauled it to storage is when we began to feel seriously crappy, whether it was WuFlu or something else. Then we were down during a major snowstorm, a two-day power outage and an ice storm.
That makes it five weeks today since we took sick.
We’ve largely recovered from our bout, though it’s fair to say that we’re still rebuilding energy and stamina. Persistent coughing subsided and I regained the ability to take a full breath about two weeks ago. My senses of taste and smell returned to 100% a few weeks after onset, while Deb continues to detect only things like onions, spices, skunk, cigarette smoke and dog shit. (Seriously.)
Despite feeling better, I found out last week that my lung capacity took quite a hit. Taking down those cedars involved some upper-body exertion and a hundred-yard trudge up the steepest part of the road. By the time I got back to the Ranger I was gasping for breath.
Deb pointed out that some of that can be attributed to the fact that we haven’t been as active this winter. She’s probably right. I know I’ve lost much of the muscle mass I built (painfully) while moving household goods into storage last summer. My strength will come back over time, I’m sure, especially when I start slingin’ shit on The Mountain over the next year.
But anyway, we’re back — maybe not all the way back, but at least we’re good’n’functional again.
The possibility that our recent viral affliction may have been caused by some WuFlu variant naturally got me thinking about how Deb and I have navigated the situation since early 2020. From the beginning, and certainly after we hit the road in March of 2021, we’ve continued to live our American Life and chart our own course.
Perhaps you’ve suspected this from what you’ve read here, but I may as well just say it out loud — neither of us has submitted to a WuFlu jab, stick, shot or booster. What’s more, neither of us has ever been tested for WuFlu. When we’ve donned face diapers it’s been because we consciously chose to enter premises “requiring” them, and those instances of simple expediency have been rare.
We’ve managed our risk, as we perceive that risk. We’ve kept to a strict vitamins-and-supplements regimen, and we set up sources of therapeutics so that we could, if need be, get our hands on “unapproved” (but demonstrably effective) treatments.
Mostly, we stayed aware but lived as the born-free Americans we are. We based our decisions on facts about disease transmission and outcomes, along with a double dose of suspicion about the State’s impure motives.
Many of you did the same. And if you did, you join us now in being proven correct about what was really going on with that misbegotten “pandemic.”
Testing served only political ends, not public health. Masks didn’t work. Development of so-called “vaccines” was irresponsibly rushed, resulting in products that were ineffective at best, lethal at worst.
Most insidious, the State lied to the People — at every turn, about everything. The entire “pandemic” charade was an exercise in controlling a compliant, complacent populace that doesn’t value its Liberty.
The virus was real. The reaction was anti-American bullshit. We know that, and we told you so.
If you went into the “pandemic” trusting government, institutional medicine and the current perversion of “science,” I don’t know how you can trust them today. Truly, you’d have to be a fucking idiot to buy what they sell.
What now? Well, the last thing we should do is expect the State to change — it will always lie, always seek control. There’s only one lesson, only one respectable reaction from a free People.
Defy. Disobey. Refuse to comply.
Folks ’round here have a strong sense that spring will arrive ahead of schedule this year. I’ve said as much already. Dispatches from elsewhere in Arkansas fuel our optimism — trees budding unexpectedly, cherry blossoms in Hot Springs, forsythia in Conway, daffodils in The Ozarks.
Yesterday I saw a couple of maps suggesting that it may be more than wishful thinking.
According to the National Phenology Network, which studies seasonal cycles and their effects on flora and fauna, most of the southeastern quadrant of the continental US is indeed overachieving. Leaves are a-poppin’ as much as three weeks early throughout the region. Blooms aren’t far behind.
It’s what the eggheads at the NPN refer to as an “anomaly” — a deviation, that is, a departure from the norm. Whatever they call it, we’ll take it.
We haven’t been to The Mountain since the well was drilled, so we haven’t yet seen firsthand if springtime has arrived there. We’re being a bit more selective now about when and how often we make the trip, more conscious of conserving our resources. Weather and illness, of course, have thrown up roadblocks.
Soon, I expect, we’ll be up there almost every day.
The foundation will be laid out late next week. Excavation will follow, dependent on weather. We have our eyes on Monday — 70°F, sunny and windy — for our next visit.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.