The open window next to my head carried fresh air and birdsong, a phoebe, when I opened my eyes this morning. It was cool enough to prompt a shiver of the best kind, making it the sort of waking moment I live for.
I pulled the blanket up around my shoulders and stayed put awhile.
Yesterday got loose from me. It began with intentions of being productive, as I took advantage early of a lull in the wind to burn trash. Deb and I made a quick run to the bank in town. We stopped by a neighbor’s to visit, which (predictably and pleasantly) took us past noon.
Our stride broken at that point — and I’m not complaining — we lollygagged the whole afternoon away.
Naturally, we’re aware of events on the other side of the world. We’ve consumed news and commentary about it. We understand that effects of the dustup may drift downstream into Ozarkansas, whether that happens sooner or later, but the cause is entirely beyond our control.
Prices on some goods, gas in particular, may rise. The global “supply chain” may take a hit. The extent of the impact will depend, I think, on which nations insert themselves actively into the conflict. Clearly, the US already is deeply involved.
And so, here on The Mountain, we prepare to adjust to conditions as they change. That’s all we can do. Like any other faraway crisis, we’ll ready ourselves for reactions, not direct effects.
That’s the essence of prepping. Any other response would be foolish.
Sunday again. Laundry again. My regular laundromat breakfast, again — a slice of Casey’s breakfast pizza, a boxed cherry pie and a can of BRCC Espresso. Unimaginative, maybe, but it pleases me every time.
Our timing was a little off today. Instead of picking up groceries on our way Home from doin’ the warsh, we had to go back out later for that. We busied ourselves around the homestead for a few hours.
We moved Deb’s 52-year-old houseplant outdoors for the season. We took measurements, made a shopping list and plotted our next big move in building out the cabin. I replaced our Gadsden Flag, which took a real beating from recent winds, with the lesser-known flag of the Sons of Liberty.
Also known as “the Rebellious Stripes,” it dates back to at least 1775. The Sons of Liberty, of course, was formed by Samuel Adams in 1765, an outgrowth of the even-more-clandestine Loyal Nine.
It stood in opposition to The Stamp Act, organizing Patriot mobs that used fear, force, intimidation, and violence to put pressure on fellow colonists who complied with “taxation without representation.” The Stamp Act was repealed less than a year after it was enacted.
The Sons of Liberty were the original and quintessential Patriot extremists. I was proud this afternoon to raise their banner over The Mountain.
We did make it to Walmart for curbside pickup. We gassed-up my truck at Murphy USA ($3.119).
At the time, the temperature readout on the dashboard registered a steamy 91°F.
And so ended a totally unambitious and thoroughly wonderful weekend. We don’t feel a whiff of urgency — maybe you think we should, but there’s no point to pressing. As long as we keep moving, keep advancing, we know we’ll get where we’re going.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB