The Marion County Sheriff’s Office released a statement yesterday afternoon, detailing an (apparent) accidental death not far from The Mountain. Early that morning, deputies had responded to a residence down by Gray Spring, where a man had fallen off of a roof.
Two departments’ EMS squads and an ambulance service also responded. Sadly, there was nothing that could be done. The man was pronounced dead at the scene.
He reportedly was well-known and universally liked in the Yellville community, a member of a prominent local family. Presumably, yesterday he was doing what lots of us have done lately — gettin’ after it early, tryin’ to beat the heat. But something went very wrong, and he fell.
When I read the statement from the Sheriff, I couldn’t help noticing that he was 68 years old — my age. And in that moment, a tragedy for a family and a community became for me a cautionary tale.
My fellow sixty-somethings and I can be damned bullheaded as we wrestle with capability and capacity diminished naturally by aging. We believe that we can do things we can’t. I don’t know exactly what befell this man yesterday, and yes, accidents do happen, but is it possible that his mind wrote a check that his body couldn’t cash?
I don’t know, of course. I ask the question only because I’ve been there myself.
Work may define me, but discretion, informed by wisdom, sustains me. Only by operating within my limits — whether I like it or not — do I have a chance to see another sunrise.
And so I pace myself. I ask for help. I delegate and I hire-out. When presented with something sketchy, I don’t tackle it alone.
Deb holds the ladder and hands me tools.
I knew all this before yesterday’s unfortunate incident. Knowing about it, however, renews my commitment to keeping my innate stubbornness under control.
Thomas Massie, a Republican representing Kentucky’s 4th District, arguably is the most libertarian member of Congress. He comforts the afflicted and afflicts the politically comfortable.
I’ve liked and generally agreed with Massie for some time now. But I didn’t know his back story until yesterday, when I watched an interview he did with Tucker Carlson.
Recorded in June, it’s one of Tucker’s now-trademark long-form interviews, running over two hours. And yes, it covers culture and politics and other subjects you’d expect.
The part of the conversation that really intrigues me, however, doesn’t begin until Massie starts talking about living off-grid. (If the video I’ve included below doesn’t pick up at that point, skip ahead to about the 1:10 mark.)
Thomas Massie is intelligent, articulate, funny as hell and undeniably engaging. As he wove one story into another, I was hooked.
He and his family have been living off-grid for 21 years. Beyond entertainment value, I found much of what he said to be personally useful as we pursue our own version of “rustic living.”
Either you’re into that or you’re not. Either you want to invest almost an hour in this video or you don’t. That’s your call — this simply was something I wanted to share for those so inclined.
Saturday is our chore day, our project day, our work-together day. Deb had a couple of bird feeders to fill and hang, and she was toying with the idea of washing Mercy. I wanted to finish installing the fixture that’ll support our woodstove chimney.
She was still in bed when I fed Scout and Smudge, grabbed a mug of coffee and headed out to the cabin. I pored over the instructions, pre-assembled the bracket that mounts to the outside wall, and took measurements.
For the rest, I waited for Deb to stir. I needed her to hold the ladder and hand me tools.
I measured, marked and mounted — and still it needed adjusting. Once the bracket was secured and level, I slipped the tee pipe into place on the horizontal platform and inserted a short length of insulated chimney pipe through the wall. I fitted the interior half of the thimble, which stabilized the installation.
It all went smoothly, actually, and it turned out well. We topped the tee temporarily with the chimney cap to keep weather and critters out. (Mounting the rest of the stack will be the very last step.)
Now I can move on with the hearth, wall insulation and installing non-combustible cement board behind and over the woodstove.
Later, I dumped the camper’s waste-water tanks. Then, tickled by a recurring reminder I’ve set up on my phone, I exercised our generators and two-stroke power tools.
I figured that the Generac and the Firman didn’t need to be run, given that I’d done that just after we brought them back from Ohio. Likewise the Predator 2000, which powered the cabin AC for hours a week ago. That left only the Predator 5000, which hummed contentedly for 30 minutes.
All of the two-strokes got their periodic warmup — two chainsaws, one brush cutter and a leaf blower. I thought I’d take advantage of the occasion to adjust the Husqvarna saw’s carb and see if I could get rid of its off-idle stumble.
Not knowing what kind of driver the adjuster required, I shined a pocket flashlight on the deeply recessed screws. My best guess was that it’d take a hex key, probably 3mm or 4mm. Neither worked.
I picked up my phone and did a little wwWeb sleuthing, learning that the adjuster is (essentially) a tiny splined shaft with 21 teeth.
That’s just evil.
I’m not in the habit of working on carburetors, so I don’t own a tool like that. I’ve never owned a tool like that.
While I had my phone out, I ordered one. Six bucks. It’ll be here Monday.
By the time I had all five engines shut down, cooled off and put away, the heat — temperature 90°F, heat index 95°F — had gotten to me. I was stumbling. I chugged a bottle of water, then guzzled two sports drinks and ducked into the cool of the camper.
I’d had enough. But work got done, and that feels mighty good.
Deb has an ear infection brewing. Late this afternoon she drove to an urgent-care clinic in Mountain Home. At her insistence, I stayed on The Mountain and chilled.
Fine with me.
This was Deb’s first time at this particular clinic, and she had a great experience. The doc wrote her a couple of prescriptions, which she’ll pick up tomorrow.
All things considered, it was a good Saturday for both of us.
While we were at work in the cabin this morning, a pair of The Mountain’s finest whitetail bucks made an appearance on Mountain Two.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB