Yesterday began like one of our typical Saturdays — me wandering outside in the pleasantly cool morning air, Deb indoors, taking her time getting moving. I sat down with my coffee at the picnic table.
That didn’t feel quite right, for some reason, so I moved over to the fire pit and plopped on a stump. Still antsy, I got back up and followed the footpath we’d made north of the cabin.
When I reached the clearing, I sat down again and looked around. To the north-northwest, our road was visible through the leafless trees. Behind me, I still could make out the camper, but just barely.
I was in the woods. I was away.
Better.
My phone buzzed, a text from Deb. “Where are you?”
She and Smudge came out to join me. The happy Heeler zoomed around and around and romped in the leaves. Deb and I talked about what we might do with this spot.
Mostly we marveled at our good fortune — such peace, so close.
We had errands to run and drove to Mountain Home. Deb shopped for work clothes. I grabbed a couple of five-by-seven (camo) tarps and a free five-gallon bucket at Harbor Freight. We bought Gadsden and Arkansas flags from a familiar roadside vendor and flagsticks at Lowe’s.
In Flippin, we filled the truck with 87 octane ($2.699) and picked up provisions.
The sunset kinda snuck up on us. Every time we thought the show was over, it got better, more vivid. Eventually our western sky exploded in fiery reds and oranges and violets and pinks.
I took in the scene first from the driveway, then moved up near The Amphitheater for a better view. The panorama from our humble homestead amazes me every time I step outside. It never gets old.
It’ll be even better once the camper’s gone.
And now a few notes from time spent in front of the TV.
First, I guess I should mention that we won’t be watching the big football game today. We’re simply not interested. I don’t suppose that surprises you.
We did sit down last night to watch Tucker Carlson’s interview of Putin, which I found both tactically interesting and substantively useful. Tucker acquitted himself well, if not spectacularly well, and (shockingly in this day and age) he dared to practice actual journalism.
American lefties and pro-Ukraine toadies no doubt will have plenty to criticize in the interview. Thing is, they’ll have to manufacture it.
Finally, one of the prepping channels we occasionally watch published a video with the title, “Airborne Ebola???” We took the clickbait and heard the story of a disturbing (but isolated) incident in which an airline passenger fell ill suddenly and died horribly from what appeared to be hemorrhagic marburgvirus.
This YouTuber then launched into pitching his preferred face diapers, which he still wears whenever (as he perceives it) it’s necessary. That’s fine, of course — to each his own — but repeatedly he scorned folks who, during the WuFlu hysteria, refused to wear masks.
In his view, those people behaved stupidly. They acted out of simple-minded anti-government bias, relying solely on politics and ideology to make choices about their health. He reduced the decision to forego masks to willful ignorance.
Asshole.
I’m among the millions that this guy is scolding, and I’m here to tell you that the overwhelming majority of us who made that choice — as well as declining to stay home, keep our distance, or be jabbed — based it on information, not ideology. Rational skepticism and independent curiosity led us to investigate what we were being told by State “experts.” We compared that to what we saw unfolding and what we already knew, and to long-established science and practice.
We made intellectually honest choices. In virtually every way that matters, we’ve been proven right.
I don’t begrudge this YouTuber his own personal choices, and judging by some of his older videos, he was masking long before WuFlu came along. (He attributes his never contracting the virus to that.) So yeah, he’s a germophobe, but he’s not exactly the picture of health — a sickly looking middle-ager, almost waifish. Maybe he has something else going on, I dunno.
I only know that I won’t be taking his advice any more seriously than I do his analysis.
Sunday. Laundry day. Gray day. Chilly day, the first of two. A rain-snow mix is comin’ our way after midnight.
To fortify myself for the laundromat this morning, I picked up a slice of Casey’s famous “breakfast pizza” (delicious) and a boxed blueberry pie. We did our wash, returned to The Mountain and relaxed most of the afternoon away.
Again later, I was restless. I threw on a jacket and hat and went outside. Before long, Deb came out, too, and together we strolled and talked and dreamed.
The beauty of those moments with her is impossible to capture in words.
We’ve made peace with the lives we lived before. This is our time now, and this is the place.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB