Outdoor guide to clairvoyance and clear vision: The best method to keep blood, sweat or raindrops from your eyes is to wear a brimmed hat. A rolled bandanna tied across the forehead works equally well. Keep your head down. Eventually, droplets will roll into your eyebrows and even though it tickles avoid all temptation or urge to wipe with the backside of your hand. Try a head bop instead. Touching the eyebrow will destroy the natural channeling effect by matting the hair and displacing its natural oily characteristic. If this happens you’ve had it. Seek shelter and a dry soft terry cloth towel.

CSPAN2 was not programmed on my remote. I never gave it a thought. But I have been alerted that it may be worth my while to tune in. And it’s true (thanks Mom!) that BOOK-TV has potential. I watched and interesting review with author Jennet Conant, and her book Tuxedo Park: A Wall Street Tycoon and the Secret Palace of Science That Changed the Course of World War II . On the other hand came next was a real downer. Some scholar from Johns Hopkins speaking before a group of scholars about a book he had written about a scholar. Booorrriinng. I switched over to Discovery Channel and learned what to do/not to do when confronted by Black Bear. Rule No. 1: Never turn tail and run away. This only serves to confirm, in the mind of the beast, that you are no longer a threat but PREY! He is likely to charge and run you down. Try and back out of the situation slowly. Literally walk backwards. Avoid eye contact. Some folks have tried removing trail packs and flinging them off to the side hoping that the bear creature would become confused or distracted perhaps takeing a greater interest in the food stuffs therein. Bad idea. You want that pack strapped to your backside where it will serve as protective barrier between you and teeth and claws (see playing dead). Do not squat down or lay down. Only play dead as a last resort — if the bear has already let you have it. Pepper spray seemed a terrific defense…

So much information right to my armchair via the remote.

I had no idea! I thought it was a school yard thing… There are actually rules and strategies. It is decision making, wits, speed, dexterity and strategy between players who are unable to reach a decision using other means. The result of which is considered binding agreement between them. RPS !

The battle is not over, we are not claiming victory but the coalition is making progress. You will learn however, that chemical weapons WERE used. Naw — this is not a rehash of political commentary. This is about the homeland. The ants are invading kitchen and pantry. I tried the squash under thumb method, but for B.O.U.R.Gurl, that wasn’t cutting it and “Barney” an estimator from Exorbitant Exterminator Co wanted a 12 month contract. So, armed with a leaky old pump sprayer and Ortho’s Malathion-50, I laid down a perimeter barrier on the outside. Fortunate thing. That stuff smells bad — like a Georgia Paper Mill in the summer time. Worse, my exposed hands were wet from the stuff. I’m not poisoned but the stink has been on me for 2 days. Collateral damage. The pesky critters have been beaten back. For now.

The last obstacle on the ‘ride around the lake’ is a rather sheer traverse down the face of a dam. The rider’s style is to hang ones fanny out over the rear wheel. This distributes the weight aft lessening the chance of an end-o (end-over-end). I was briefly into it when I realized that there were influences that I hadn’t factored properly. The grassy slope was newly mowed (scalped close), and soft red clay mud exposed. The surface was treated with heavy moisture from last light rain, fog, and mist. Whooop! Both wheels slid out and down I went. Not a header. The angle gap between upper torso and the steep terrain merely closed up. That’s all. Mud and dirt fouled body side and moving parts. No injury to report. Nothing to see here folks.

Number One Son, the inventor, conceived and constructed this idea. You recognize the tooth brush, the back of which is precision drilled to interference fit the black rubber tube. Secured to the brush handle and plugged into the other end is a standard squirt tube with tooth paste. It’s all neatly packaged in multiple wraps of duct tape. One just squeezes a little to force out the paste. It’s easy and as the name implies — Inna Rush Brush!

[buh-wah-hah-hah!] [screams!] I’ve seen him join in the chase nipping at the rear, excited, but in THIS case he thrust himself in my path, a bodyblock, and barked with teeth flashing. Not menacing with curled lips and eye contact but with j u u ust enough incentive for me to say whoa and suck my tender parts out of harms way. I was effectively halted. I had given pursuit, an old play game chasing HD girl through a living room loop, just like in earlier years but when she was slow to escape. HD girl can outrun dear ol’ dad now however she clipped her ankle on the old wooden antique as she fled passed (but kept shrieking and laughing despite). Dawg, sensing the gimp, smelled blood too and that’s when he interjected the wierding. I didn’t know that he had it in him! Man’s Girl’s best friend!

My Mom would rarely allow us to watch these guys. Too much violence! she said… Hah! Hollywood hasn’t shown much restraint since then. Darnright tame. Suitable for Sunday School. Her advice to children today, and mine too, would exclude all TV (unless maybe it’s PBS). The complexity compounds. Without trying too hard you are flashed with internet porn and or seedy email spam. I’m embarrassed for my children. And their children. Shame. Where have the family sensors gone? Sorry, I hadn’t intended for this blog to become dark. I will flip the pundit switch. [click sound] Here’s a sample sound clip. Larry speaks Chinese! Or is it Yiddish?

Unbelievable that the drum beats for Syria now that Iraq has been checked. I suppose that there was a fixed cost in bringing men and might halfway around the globe. Economics 101: Such cost could be halved if some other mission presented itself. Bad timing to piss off the US government at this particular moment. The military machine is in high gear, on a roll and being that ‘well since we’re here…’ expect that there will be some mop up ops.

Our forces made a big show for media benefit — of a bank heist thwarted. The insides of this building had already been cherry picked, but money remained. Late coming unfortunates, on the floor assuming the position, were caught with the loot. Stacks of Iraqi 3 dollar bills contrasted colorfully against the drab dirty dusty destruction. At first glance you’d think: nice bust! But as pretty as the money was, it would take a wheel barrow full of it to buy even a loaf. The latest black market exchange is 1 USD to .01 and I would assume likely to be discarded in favor of an all new denomination anyway (less the face of S.H.) Nice show though.

Quarterbacking Americans have been complaining that the military was not doing enough in the way of policing. Example: The Baghdad Museum of Culture and Art was a shambles. By contrast, and for some reason (?), the Ministry of Oil was intact AND well guarded! Actually, if you look closely at the pictures of the wasted museum, note that all of the glass table cases were not broken. Covered with thick dust and empty — but plundered? Hardly. The artifacts were removed early on ( for safe keeping ), by the curators. Not all Iraqis are savage desperados… Some of the heavy, awkward items might have slipped away but it’s not like they have vaporized into the ether either. They will reappear on the art market (ebay:-) to be ransomed and restored to their rightful place. Culture is saved / spared for a happier day.

Our teenage advance party leaves their protected suburban enclave for the dark world of DOWNTOWN and promptly becomes lost. Armed with youthful spirit and vague verbal directions they learn that self-reliance means carry a street map. Lucky for them, Momma is not directionally challenged and has mapblast access back at home base. Drizzle, Drazzle, Druzzle, Drome, time for this one to come home! She saves them from uncertain fate (or a wrong turn into the ghetto) and gently brings them out. Thank god I wasn’t paying for the gasoline!