Shadows Come

I listen to the voice of the train making it’s way east, a cacophony of whistle and thunder and clattering, muted by distance, but sharp edged as it resonates across the river. Now the whistle blows – but growing quickly fainter… the thundering…the clattering… gone. And now the sounds of the birds gathered at the feeder chatter back into my hearing, the swish of a passing car on the road below, all cocooned by this village’s velvet silence.

These homes.., these slightly tilting, nary-a-plumb-line-to-be-found homes stand as sentinels along the banks of the Ohio. I often wonder who their owners were, that such a small town could boast this avenue of once grand ladies, their grandeur rather forlorn, more so for never having been abandoned. And all these lady’s feet have been washed by the Ohio River, indeed, that river threatened many a time to climb right up their skirts…….but they stood. Their foundations shift, cracks write long lines of narrative across walls that have seen more human lives than can ever be written, all part of a village with roots over two hundred years old, built when the land supported people who were, well, true Americans……

The wind skitters through the branches now, trailing a shawl through early fallen leaves across lawns grown weary of trumpeting summer’s fecundity. Autumn has sent harbingers of her arrival and summer seems eager to bid adieu.

Normally I would snuggle cozily in the anticipation of winter’s cold, but now upon this land march harbingers trumpeting ill winds and evil weather unlike any we have ever known in all of our nation’s history. There may be no warmth to snuggle in and our hands may be stayed from putting food in the larder, and the grandchildren we normally would be buying early Christmas gifts for become the sum and substance of the only reason we live because now…now we can’t see their lives unfolding as ours did, or as our parents and grandparents did. We are realizing that we have to imagine a future where they must learn to fight for their very lives and Christmas, if even allowed to continue, will never be the same ….. Is this what people in the past felt like when the shadow of war and tribulation approached?

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They Are Not Going to Let us Hide. They Are Not Going To Stop

(Source)

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Opting Out.

A while back in an e-mail, Zee expressed an interest in finding a piece of land on which to live, grow vegetables and fruit, keep chickens and a couple of cows partly in order to become less dependent on government services and utilities. Well there is an interesting post and comments at Fresh Bilge on the subject and on opting out of the system as much as possible, lying low as some call it. Though I haven’t done much posting lately I think we bloggers are by definition ‘involved’ in our communities and our country and all without need of community organizers. We are ‘free spirits’ in some respects, independent by nature and our involvement is the necessary means to ensure that we and our friends and neighbours can stay that way, no ‘community organizing’ for us, we’d rather allow others to figure out for themselves what is in their best interest and if they or we fail sometimes well that’s the price we pay to learn. The socialists and community organizers will only lead you down a dead end street.

O/T but I found this amusing. On Valentine’s Day the local Classics radio station was taking requests and dedications from listeners all day. One guy phoned in and started, “My name is John Rainbow, R-a-i-n b-o-w”.
Firstly who wouldn’t know how to spell rainbow, then who the hell does he think would be interested and lastly there is all that technology in use and thousands of people listening while he takes the time to slowly spell out his name. It’s a bit like those in the supermarket who will leave their cart at an angle in the middle of the aisle while they saunter off to find something, or the cab drivers who stop three feet from the kerb to pick up a passenger, a complete unawareness or care on what is going on around them. Maybe it’s not so O/T, maybe it’s like a personal opting out or an ersatz opting out when the real thing is unobtainable.

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Are You Prepared?

I often regret that I at one time found survivalists amusing. Now I wish to hell I had taken heed. I have been thinking of worse case scenarios a lot lately and realizing that, like thousands of Americans, I am screwed when it comes down to it.

The following is an entry I found at SurvivalBlog.com, a place I’d highly recommend if you want to become conversant with survival. I truly envy this dude and there are probably quite a few like him. Most of us do not have the finances to stock up and hunker down. I do know that a good portion of my future income will go towards food, fuel, water and ammo.

Jim: I am not a religious nut when I tell you the Holy Spirit impressed my entire family we were all to leave where we lived and head to Montana. So I started visiting
the real estate web sites searching for homes that might fit our particular requirements. We arrived with a list of 46 homes in a binder sorted by area/city etc. After
spending seven days working out of the Flathead Lake / Kalispell area and looking at 28 homes we were discouraged. We looked at properties up to $450,000. Price was not the issue. The issue was being at peace with our purchase. After seven days my son in law called to say we should go up to Eureka and look at the houses we had printed out for that area. So I called a realtor’s agent and gave her a list of eighteen properties with the liberty to weed out those that she thought would not fit. We looked at eight properties and one twice.

All of the properties appeared to belong to Christians of one flavor or another. Some we met just outright stated they were believers. After leaving the realtor we discussed the merits of one property some more. It had all the things we require: five bedrooms, two for offices, 2 plus acres, multiple bug out routes, two tillable acres, about two feet of snow per year, plenty of wood nearby, a lake filled with ducks and geese. Plus we have plenty deer, elk, bears, game birds, chickens in the spring, and more available land in the general area. The growing season is 158 days. The land is sub irrigated and we have a deep thirty gallon per minute well. Water is just seven feet down. After several hours of contemplation, some prayer the Holy Spirit simply said you will be safe here. After purchasing we learned the seller failed to disclose the presence of a questionable unrecorded easement and spring. These undisclosed issues will work themselves out in time.

We are about 20 miles from the Canadian Border. I am an American, so I will stay here regardless of what happens. This is a very nice home, but it may just prove to be our base camp while establishing something more remote. In the coming times of confusion, I believe that boldness, good planning, stealth and mobility will be key to retaking our nation. The wind currents are favorable to protect us from most fallout. We are situated on the edge of a valley between two mountains. I can close the roads with chain saws and some old vehicles stored nearby without trouble. The hillside provides three good LP/OP positions with places for many spider holes. Bug out into the National Forest is behind the home or down the road.

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