Annual Valentine Song Festival! Crying, Roy Orbison

Annual Valentine Song Festival! When Will I See You Again? The Three Degrees

Many Thanks for the suggestion, John!

Annual Valentine Song Festival! It Had To Be You, Frank Sinatra

Annual Valentine Song Festival: Are You Lonesome Tonight? Elvis Presley

Burns' Birthday!

Robert W. Service wrote all kinds of poems. Sad poems, funny poems, thrilling and thoughtful poems. It is a crime that English teachers in the U.S. of A provide only a few samples of his work that he turned out during his time in the Yukon. Every year at this time, The Haggis of Private McPhee is running through my mind. It is a thrilling tale, and the experiences of McPhee and McPhun are all too real pictures of the Western Front. It might even bring a tear to your eyes. 

 The Haggis of Private McPhee

"Hae ye heard whit ma auld mither's postit tae me?

It fair makes me hamesick," says Private McPhee.

"And whit did she send ye?" says Private McPhun,

As he cockit his rifle and bleezed at a Hun.

"A haggis! A HAGGIS!" says Private McPhee;

"The brawest big haggis I ever did see.

And think! it's the morn when fond memory turns

Tae haggis and whisky -- the Birthday o' Burns.

We maun find a dram; then we'll ca' in the rest

O' the lads, and we'll hae a Burns' Nicht wi' the best."

"Be ready at sundoon," snapped Sergeant McCole;

"I want you two men for the List'nin' Patrol."

Then Private McPhee looked at Private McPhun:

"I'm thinkin', ma lad, we're confoundedly done."

Then Private McPhun looked at Private McPhee:

"I'm thinkin' auld chap, it's a' aff wi' oor spree."

But up spoke their crony, wee Wullie McNair:

"Jist lea' yer braw haggis for me tae prepare;

And as for the dram, if I search the camp roun',

We maun hae a drappie tae jist haud it doon.

Sae rin, lads, and think, though the nicht it be black,

O' the haggis that's waitin' ye when ye get back."

My! but it wis waesome on Naebuddy's Land,

And the deid they were rottin' on every hand.

And the rockets like corpse candles hauntit the sky,

And the winds o' destruction went shudderin' by.

There wis skelpin' o' bullets and skirlin' o' shells,

And breengin' o' bombs and a thoosand death-knells;

But cooryin' doon in a Jack Johnson hole

Little fashed the twa men o' the List'nin' Patrol.

For sweeter than honey and bricht as a gem

Wis the thocht o' the haggis that waitit for them.

Yet alas! in oor moments o' sunniest cheer

Calamity's aften maist cruelly near.

And while the twa talked o' their puddin' divine

The Boches below them were howkin' a mine.

And while the twa cracked o' the feast they would hae,

The fuse it wis burnin' and burnin' away.

Then sudden a roar like the thunner o' doom,

A hell-leap o' flame . . . then the wheesht o' the tomb.

"Haw, Jock! Are ye hurtit?" says Private McPhun.

"Ay, Geordie, they've got me; I'm fearin' I'm done.

It's ma leg; I'm jist thinkin' it's aff at the knee;

Ye'd best gang and leave me," says Private McPhee.

"Oh leave ye I wunna," says Private McPhun;

"And leave ye I canna, for though I micht run,

It's no faur I wud gang, it's no muckle I'd see:

I'm blindit, and that's whit's the maitter wi' me."

Then Private McPhee sadly shakit his heid:

"If we bide here for lang, we'll be bidin' for deid.

And yet, Geordie lad, I could gang weel content

If I'd tasted that haggis ma auld mither sent."

"That's droll," says McPhun; "ye've jist speakit ma mind.

Oh I ken it's a terrible thing tae be blind;

And yet it's no that that embitters ma lot --

It's missin' that braw muckle haggis ye've got."

For a while they were silent; then up once again

Spoke Private McPhee, though he whussilt wi' pain:

"And why should we miss it? Between you and me

We've legs for tae run, and we've eyes for tae see.

You lend me your shanks and I'll lend you ma sicht,

And we'll baith hae a kyte-fu' o' haggis the nicht."

Oh the sky it wis dourlike and dreepin' a wee,

When Private McPhun gruppit Private McPhee.

Oh the glaur it wis fylin' and crieshin' the grun',

When Private McPhee guidit Private McPhun.

"Keep clear o' them corpses -- they're maybe no deid!

Haud on! There's a big muckle crater aheid.

Look oot! There's a sap; we'll be haein' a coup.

A staur-shell! For Godsake! Doun, lad, on yer daup.

Bear aff tae yer richt. . . . Aw yer jist daein' fine:

Before the nicht's feenished on haggis we'll dine."

There wis death and destruction on every hand;

There wis havoc and horror on Naebuddy's Land.

And the shells bickered doun wi' a crump and a glare,

And the hameless wee bullets were dingin' the air.

Yet on they went staggerin', cooryin' doun

When the stutter and cluck o' a Maxim crept roun'.

And the legs o' McPhun they were sturdy and stoot,

And McPhee on his back kept a bonnie look-oot.

"On, on, ma brave lad! We're no faur frae the goal;

I can hear the braw sweerin' o' Sergeant McCole."

But strength has its leemit, and Private McPhun,

Wi' a sab and a curse fell his length on the grun'.

Then Private McPhee shoutit doon in his ear:

"Jist think o' the haggis! I smell it from here.

It's gushin' wi' juice, it's embaumin' the air;

It's steamin' for us, and we're -- jist -- aboot -- there."

Then Private McPhun answers: "Dommit, auld chap!

For the sake o' that haggis I'll gang till I drap."

And he gets on his feet wi' a heave and a strain,

And onward he staggers in passion and pain.

And the flare and the glare and the fury increase,

Till you'd think they'd jist taken a' hell on a lease.

And on they go reelin' in peetifu' plight,

And someone is shoutin' away on their right;

And someone is runnin', and noo they can hear

A sound like a prayer and a sound like a cheer;

And swift through the crash and the flash and the din,

The lads o' the Hielands are bringin' them in.

"They're baith sairly woundit, but is it no droll

Hoo they rave aboot haggis?" says Sergeant McCole.

When hirplin alang comes wee Wullie McNair,

And they a' wonnert why he wis greetin' sae sair.

And he says: "I'd jist liftit it oot o' the pot,

And there it lay steamin' and savoury hot,

When sudden I dooked at the fleech o' a shell,

And it -- dropped on the haggis and dinged it tae hell."

And oh but the lads were fair taken aback;

Then sudden the order wis passed tae attack,

And up from the trenches like lions they leapt,

And on through the nicht like a torrent they swept.

On, on, wi' their bayonets thirstin' before!

On, on tae the foe wi' a rush and a roar!

And wild to the welkin their battle-cry rang,

And doon on the Boches like tigers they sprang:

And there wisna a man but had death in his ee,

For he thocht o' the haggis o' Private McPhee.

Annual Valentine Song Festival: I Only Want To Be With You, Nicolette Larson

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Stardust, Hoagy Carmichael

Annual Valentine Song Festival: Somebody To Love, Jefferson Airplane

Annual Valentine Song Festival! A Pretty Girl Is Like A Melody, Rudy Vallee

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Everything That Glitters Is Not Gold, Dan Seals

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Love At The Five And Dime, Nanci Griffith

Annual Valentine Song Festival: Blue Eyes, Elton John

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Lovesick Blues, Hank Williams

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Ain't We Got Fun!

 In 1921 the Twenties weren't quite roaring yet. This song held up for many years, but I doubt that Millenials have even heard of it. Our shellac copy sounds a bit better than this record, but it does have lots of honest wear. The favorites were played hard and they didn't necessarily get a new needle for every play.

Annual Valentine Song Festival! You're Nobody 'til Somebody Loves You, Dean Martin

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Ukulele Lady, Vaughn DeLeath

Annual Valentine Song Festival! I Can't Help Falling In Love With You, Arlo Guthrie and the University of Kentucky Orchestra

The annual True Blue Sam Valentine Festival begins right here!

Weak Point In A Ruger Single Action?

This may be it. The little round rod you see is the Hammer Plunger. It has a spring behind it in the hammer, and a relieved area on the side so it remains captured by the little pin you see in the hammer. This plunger pushes forward on the backside of the Cylinder Latch when you draw the hammer back, which lowers the front end of the latch, allowing the cylinder to turn. The Plunger is pushed upward into the hammer as the hammer drops, and then it pops back to the limit of the relieved area against the little pin when it is at rest.  The plunger broke on a Single Six I had in the mid-1970's, and I saw this repeated on a friend's Single Six a year or two later. It was easy to replace by using a drill bit shank cut to length, and then filing the side where the pin rides.

If this breaks in your revolver you cannot operate the action normally. The cylinder latch is not moved when you try to cock the gun, and it is jammed up as the hand tries to rotate the cylinder. I think you could make the gun work by opening the gate, rotating the cylinder so it is unlatched, closing the gate, and then cocking the hammer. The important thing for you to do if this happens is to turn the gun upside down and catch the bottom of the Hammer Plunger. You will need it when you make your new piece so you can make the length right. I haven't had this problem again for over forty years, but I sure have not forgotten it. A prudent person would probably order a few of these plungers just in case one is needed.

The Importance Of Branch Angles

"See Good Trees" is my motto when doing improvement work in timber. Look for the good ones and get rid of trees competing with them. For timber growers, a good tree has a straight stem, good natural pruning, a wide healthy crown, and no forks or tight branch angles with included bark. This red maple demonstrates the danger of forks and tight branch angles. Trees like this one tend to be damaged by wind and ice.

Do we need to get rid of this tree now? We can utilize it for firewood, but currently we are covered up in dead ash trees, and those need to be harvested before we go after a live tree. Is it interfering with a good crop tree? If not, just leave it for the time being.  Rot is going to work its way down the stem, but there will still be a good log for ten or fifteen years. You can also leave a tree like this to serve as a wildlife tree. That break will work as a good nesting site, and possibly a den. 

 

Here's a bad fork with included bark and rot progressing.

Another bad fork with hidden bark included, but sound on top.

This one is a sound fork with both wood and bark where they should be. A fork is the top end of merchantability for sawtimber. You need a minimum of 8' 6" for a hardwood log to be merchantable. If a tree forks below that it will never go to the sawmill. 

This is a good branch angle with the limb going back all the way to the pith. The tighter the branching angle, the more likely bark will be trapped between the limb and the stem.

Dolly Parton: Hard Candy Christmas

My Favorite Llama

If you travel I-64 through Southern Illinois you might be lucky enough to see this llama along the way. It is at a llama farm, but this one is a statue made of steel. Many years ago it was in the news because it had been stolen. It is an odd thing to steal, and I don't know how anyone could ever display it or fence the ill-gotten gains, because it is unique.

 One day I was looking at timber in the next county over and was walking down that track you see. It is an unused oilfield road, and comes off a dirt road that is difficult to drive in dry weather. Off to one side I saw an animal head. When you see deer while woods-walking you don't stop or turn your head. Make eye contact and the animal will bolt, but a solid sideways glance showed that this was no deer. It was a welded up, all-steel llama! This was before I had a smart phone, so I finished looking at the timber and got back to the office, where I called the neighboring sheriff. "Are you still looking for a llama?" "You Found The LLAMA?" A backhoe operator was called and a local game warden went out to collect it and make an official report, and it went home to its place by I-64. I look at it every time I drive by. 

Real Life Lessons To Avoid Impact Injuries

Open face falling and bore cutting applied through the five step plan will go far to protect you from injuries and death. Learn proper cutting methods from trainers like Tim Ard, and you will avoid the drama of ambulances, helicopters, and emergency rooms. Tim Ard's YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/@ForestApps

Tim Ard's Struck-By video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uB-iBn5grCk

Took A Little Hike Today,

...and found no trespassers! They were probably in a turkey coma this morning. I did find a shed antler from last winter, and that was a nice surprise. Mama Deer and her two babies spent some time in the yard today and hardly noticed me when I was out in the driveway.

Jingle Bell Rock, Bobby Helms

Deer Season Report

 Our friends, Dusty and George have spent a bunch of time this Fall in our timber bow hunting, and this weekend, firearm hunting. Saturday was windy and the deer stayed out of sight until dusk, when they came out in bunches. Sunday morning was calm and at 6:45 we heard Dusty shoot. He got a very nice buck through the heart. Dusty lost sight of the deer and came in so it would lie down. When we went out again to look for it, it had gone about 75 yards before going down. 

Ten days ago, George bagged a good buck with a crossbow and we retrieved it with the tractor.

A few days after that buck, George got another one! Dusty came to help him retrieve this one, and he had a meaningful deer blessing before they loaded it. "Thank God it died by the road!"  I gotta say that I am impressed by the hunting skill of our friends! This photo is by Dusty.

Firearm Deer Season Starts Friday, November 18

...and I am hoping we don't hear cannonades in the morning. Sometimes it sounds like a war firing up on the first day. It will be cold in the morning with a NW wind, so hunters will have to climb down early and retreat to their 4WD pickups and coffee bottles. I wish young bucks like these two were safe, but many hunters will shoot any deer with antlers. These two crossed our driveway during the morning, Thursday, November 17.

 

A Brief Reading From Ernie Pyle

  I always like to pull Ernie Pyle from the bookshelf on Veterans' Day and reflect a bit on the experiences of World War II vets. Here is a brief excerpt from Ernie's time at Anzio. It's not the stuff of movies or war novels, but it's real. From Hospital Ship in Brave Men, (At Anzio) "Once out there we had to lie off and wait for an hour or so while other LCTs finished unloading their wounded. As we lay at anchor, the officer in charge decided to transfer the walking wounded off another LCT onto ours. So it drew alongside, threw a line, and the two ships came against each other. The slightly wounded and sick men jumped across whenever the ships hit together. 

A heavy swell was running and the ships would draw a few feet apart and then come together with a terrific bang. It was punishing to the wounded men. I stood among them, and every time we hit they would shut their eyes and clench their teeth. 

One man, nearly covered with a cast, looked at me pleadingly and said, "Don't those blankety-blank so and sos know there are men here who are badly hurt?"

Occasionally shells screamed across the town and exploded in the water in our vicinity. The wounded men didn't cringe or pay any attention to this near danger, but the pounding of the ships together made them wild."

Firewood From Our Dead Ash Trees

 After thinking on this a while, I think Susan and I planted these trees between 1995 and 2000. We are going to toss a bunch of walnuts in here and hope that the squirrels plant them for us.

Bradford Pears Have Got To Go!

The Bradford pears have been here for a bit more than 35 years, and it is time for them to go. We started today, taking off limbs that throw off the balance or tangle with a neighboring tree. Stand back a bit and be ready to step back when out-of-balance stems pop as this one does. They move fast!

Dance Macabre, Saint Saens, Arrangement by Liszt, Played by Horowitz

Is That A Good Luck Charm In Your Pocket?

or a disaster waiting to happen?  Is your .380 going to throw lead when you need it to do so, or is it going to choke on pocket lint?  We had company over the weekend, and I asked the husband if he had cleaned and lubed his pocket pistol lately.  Nope!  I said, "Give it to me and I will take care of it for you."  I guessed it would be worthy of photos and I was not disappointed.  Lint on the trigger, lint stuck to the side of the magazine and inside, too.

The barrel was fuzzy.  It definitely needed to be disassembled.

The slide catch and the hammer were both loaded up with lint, and also the mag well.

The underside of the slide was also covered in lint and a bit of powder residue.  So, we know this pistol has been fired and put back in its holster dirty after the last range trip.  I cleaned up all the dirt and lint and then lubed the little LCP II properly, even using my special blend of grease on the rails so the lube doesn't run away.

Our carry guns are not magical talismans.  They are tools and you should attend to them on a regular basis.  Guns have reciprocating and revolving parts that need to be oiled or greased to run properly, in spite of the torture tests that gunwriters love to do.  Pockets, pocket holsters, and lint all wick away oil.  The gun you lubed two months ago is probably dry by now.  The need to clean and lube is double for little pocket guns like the LCP and LCP II.  They are light, and require a firm grip to operate properly.  If you do not keep them in top operating condition, they are likely to fail you when you need them most.  You also need to practice with these little guys regularly, and make sure your grip is up to snuff so you can empty entire magazines without getting stovepipes.

Just in case you haven't read it, Grant Cunningham's article on lubrication is linked:   Here.  Be serious about your ability to defend yourself.  Criminals think about their work all the time.  We should do the same for our safety.

Lovely Little Grinder For Your Coffee!

 

                                                               Back To The Old Grind!

Weekend Steam II: Huber Steam Roller!

 This Huber steam roller has been sitting idle for many years, but Andy Glines and friends got to work on it and have it running for the Fall show at Boonville, Indiana. The operators all agreed that this engine is hard to fire. The boiler is the same diameter as Andy's Huber traction engine, but is a bit longer. Andy's engine is easy to fire, but the roller takes forever to get steam up. Tending your fire on a return flue is harder than a locomotive boiler, but there is plenty of experience in these guys. It's a puzzle, but I bet they figure it out. 

Weekend Steam (And Gas): Boonville, Indiana Engine Show Is This Weekend!

Boonville's October show is a three day event, October 14-16.    There will be steamers, gas engines, tractors, and a great flea market.  Put it on your calendar!




Directions: Thresherman’s Park, 2-1/2 miles north of Boonville on W. New Harmony Road, 1/4 mile off Hwy. 61.

Click on the Google Earth Photo to enlarge.

Sadness Leaks Through Tear-Stained Cheeks, Rest In Peace, Little Ozzie

 Ozzie came to us a little over three years ago. His owner was a Schipperke breeder who developed health problems and had to move to an assisted living home. Her dogs were taken in by Midwest Schipperke Rescue friends, and Ozzie came to us to foster. He was a stud dog, and had a nice kennel. He adapted quickly to life in our home, and mixing with our dogs, and he had a sweet personality. Midwest placed him with a lady in St. Louis and they hit it off immediately.

Ozzie had a bed in every room, but preferred sleeping with his new owner. He had three wonderful years as a beloved house pet, but became ill recently. An ultrasound last week showed that he had liver cancer, and this morning he died. We are heartbroken for him, his owner, and the breeder who surrendered him for his retirement years.