The cicadas wake up at 7am, it seems. They begin chirping downslope from us and the din works its way up. The earliest risers emit a call that sounds for all the world like distant car alarms, followed soon thereafter by the familiar chorus of runaway ratchets.
(I saw my first member of Brood XIX today. by the way.)
Deb called from mid-commute yesterday just as I’d settled on a stump at White Rock. She talked of seeing (and dodging) deer and rabbits, and I shared my observations of the quiet, sun-dappled woods.
Eventually, of course, she ended the call and went to work. I continued to revel in the solitude. The air was calm but cool, in the mid-50s. I built a small fire.
I fed the modest blaze pieces of split ash from the woodpile and topped it off with a couple of chunks of cedar. I chose both because neither needs to be well-seasoned to catch, burn, and deliver respectable coals.
Though I would’ve been quite comfortable without the fire, its warmth was welcome. I let it burn down, which took about an hour, then went on with my day.
We executed a quick turnaround when Deb got Home from work yesterday — feed the dogs, change clothes, grab a couple of folding chairs and head for town. Our first stop was Crooked Creek Pub for beers, dinner and live music.
Then it was on to the main attraction — after weather forced cancelation of racing the last two Fridays, last night the green flag waved and good ol’ boys took to the track at (The New) North Central Arkansas Speedway.
This, along with the annual Turkey Trot, capture the essence of being here, livin’ here. It’s hard to describe and utterly impossible to quantify, and yet everything that makes this place right and good is on full display. We had a ball.
And when we returned to The Mountain, we stood outside in the darkness awhile and watched the the stars twinkle in a sky that wasn’t black but eerily pink and purple and blue and green — the Aurora Borealis had made a rare dip south. Perfect.
Deb was the first to see it, and she excitedly called me over to the bank just behind the camper. There, amid the spoils, was a fair-sized box turtle sheltering under a couple of large rocks.
It did the duck-and-cover thing as soon as we approached. To see its handsome profile, check out today’s cover image.
It’s Saturday, one of Deb’s two days off each week. Since we’ll likely do laundry tomorrow, she asked for a day of rest — “my day on The Mountain,” as she put it. But she was antsy, restless, and early this afternoon we ended up visiting an antiques shop and several flea markets around Mountain Home.
(Just window-shopping, mind you.)
The day’s notable accomplishment, I’d have to say, was adding more eyes to our security scheme. No, we don’t have the same issues or nearly the level of concern that we had at Second Chance Ranch (or anywhere else we’ve lived, for that matter). All the same, this is the way we do things — efficient, effective, always vigilant.
If you suspect that we’re being a wee bit extravagant, guess again. This OPSEC upgrade was outrageously simple and inexpensive. It’s a perfect match for application, situation and budget. We’re using cost-effective technology to our benefit.
And as I said when I published drone video of our homestead, rest assured that I’m not disclosing everything we do here. Not even close. Just so you know.
I want to call your attention to a federal law known as the “Foreign Agents Registration Act,” or “FARA” for short. Ostensibly, the DOJ uses FARA to protect the homeland from malign foreign actors. That, in a nutshell, is its stated purpose.
But as we see so often with the Permanent State, enforcement powers meant to defend the country from external threats are turned on the People. DOJ already has started exploiting one particular phrase within FARA to charge American citizens.
Two words: “sowing discord.”
Naturally, it’s being misused for political purposes. Anyone who opposes the current regime out loud, who advocates for the dismantling of the ATF, the FDA or the Federal Reserve, can be tagged for “sowing discord.”
Before “the shot heard ’round the world,” the Sons of Liberty and the Loyal Nine sowed discord.
And yes, Ubi Libertas Blog, by definition and misapplication of law, sows discord.
The point I’m trying to make here — and FARA is but one example — is that if the feds wanna getcha, they’ll find a way to getcha. It’s the absolute corruption of absolute power.
Maybe that matters to you. If it doesn’t, it’s because you’ve taken a side, consequences be damned.
That’s not a license to be dismissive of the risks, of course. It should inform our choices.
I’m pretty sure you know where I stand.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB