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Living Freedom by Claire Wolfe. Musings about personal freedom and finding it within ourselves.

Want to Comment on a blog post? Look for and click on the blue No Comments or # Comments at the end of each post.



Archive for the ‘Rural and small-town living’ Category

Claire Wolfe

Grouchings

Thursday, April 24th, 2014

I’m supposed to be deadlining right now. And I am. I will be. I already know what I’m going to write; it’s only a matter of writing it.

But I’m grouchy and out of sorts and feeling generally useless, so I thought I’d get some of that out of my head.

—–

« Read the rest of this entry »

Claire Wolfe

Midweek links

Wednesday, April 23rd, 2014
  • Eighty-four square feet, 305 possessions. I’m glad my own tiny-house phase is over, but I’m also glad I had it. I’m really glad it never went down to 84 square feet.
  • Join the IRS. Cheat on your taxes. Misbehave. Win awards. Where do I sign up!
  • Not just renegade ranchers, but the Texas attorney general, is ready to say, “Come and take it! (H/T LarryA in comments.)
  • Rebels, rebels everywhere. And some intriguing background on who really “owns” all that Nevada land. (H/T Pat and naturegirl in comments.)
  • Fellow plane passengers perform one, tiny non-violent act of resistance to save a fellow passenger from an unjust and potentially deadly deportation. Wow.
  • 23andMe: “The Google of Spit.”
  • One more thing that’s wrong with NICS. (As if everything weren’t already wrong with it.)
  • While the smartest and most dogged gun-rights writers are still going back and forth about whether this week’s “faster than a speeding cartridge” Bloomy ad was real or a hoax, we know this one’s just as stooo-pid and appears to be the genuinely ignorant item.
Claire Wolfe

Tuesday links

Tuesday, April 22nd, 2014
  • So … some uninsured Californians get covered under Obamacare. Whoopee. Months later they’re desperately banging on the doors of free clinics for the uninsured because they can’t get doctors to see them. (How many of us kept shouting, “It’s not about ‘coverage.’ It’s about access to actual care!”)
  • Wanna see the impact of state sales taxes on business? Check out Amazon’s numbers. (Well, that may help explain why after a strong start to the year, my personal Amazon links are producing spit and bubble gum this month.)
  • Could low blood sugar be wrecking your marriage?
  • So this is what the ultimate mainstream ‘zine thinks of the Cliven Bundy standoff. Not a word about federal overkill. Not a word about needlessly slaughtered animals. Not a word about why the BLM operates paramilitary forces. Just that the fedgov had better crack down harder lest the peasants (We the Picts) get even more uppity. Yeah, thank you King George III for your advice.
  • “Through a Google Glass, Darkly.” A tech skeptic beta tests the infamous snoop device.
Claire Wolfe

Monday links

Monday, April 21st, 2014
  • Alas, one (normally) educated community didn’t get its Eastertime passion play this year. Because some gov-o-crat thought a passion play was a sex show.
  • But keeping everything equal, religious folks apparently dished out some maltreatment of their own.
  • Today’s good news. Cop tries to shoot harmless dog. Shoots self instead. (As you can imagine several people sent links to this.)
  • Anybody seen a Leveraxe? Now, that looks like one cool tool, if it works as advertised. Funny how even a tool nearly as old as civilization can get a major makeover when the moment’s right. Unfortunately the Leveraxe isn’t on Amazon yet. But keep your eyes peeled.
  • The dumbization and wimpization of American government schooling goes on unhindered. Don’t even think of taking your Leveraxe — or even a wrench! — to school. (H/T H.)
Claire Wolfe

BLM fatal animal abuse at the Bundy Ranch

Monday, April 21st, 2014

I don’t have solid proof that that these stomach-turning photos are the work of those guardians of the range, the BLM.

But they are consistent with other evidence and claims coming from the scene.

Don’t click those links, especially the first one, if you’ve just eaten or if you have a particularly soft heart for animals.

(H/T CB)

Claire Wolfe

Victory at the Bundy ranch

Sunday, April 13th, 2014

Like most here I’ve been watching the standoff at the Bundy ranch. I’ve had nothing new to add to the discussion, so I haven’t blogged about it. Like others, I was just trying to figure what to make of it. I only hoped it wouldn’t end up being another Weaver/Waco massacre.

Not this time:

Bundy-Revolution

(Image via Sipsey Street, where Mike Vanderboegh has some spirited things to say about it.)

« Read the rest of this entry »

Claire Wolfe

I am such a wuss (and other Wednesday ramblings)

Wednesday, March 26th, 2014

Last night I jammed my two little leftie toes on a table leg while wandering around in the dark. Well so? That’s usually one of those things where you hop around and cuss for a couple of minutes then life goes on. But this kept hurting all night and by morning those two toes were fat and red and the foot around them was fat and blue.

Still, we’re not talking about a major health crisis here. Just an owie.

I’m rarely ever sick and it’s been years since I’ve been injured. Meanwhile, nearly everybody I know has had health problems lately — from colds that turn into pneumonia to a flu that lingers for six weeks (in one case even leading to neurological problems) to … cancer.

So I have a lot of nerve getting all pouty about an owie.

« Read the rest of this entry »

Claire Wolfe

Angry writers and other vague ruminations

Tuesday, March 25th, 2014

I’m working on a project with a couple other writers. We’re each doing our own thing, but coordinating about the topics we choose.

Today one came up with a rare gun-news gun-rights story and offered it around. “Nope,” the other replied (or words to that effect), “I write best when something pisses me off.”

Oh lordy, that is so true of so true. And it’s sooooo bad for the blood pressure. And for a person’s sanity and humanity.

—–

We’ve been having this exuberant burst of spring — today, even summerlike! — weather. I went to the hardware store for paint chips. I want to paint the outside of the house extravagantly. Lilac! Purple! Green!

Tomorrow it rains again. All. Week. Long.

I remind myself: “Summer starts in July. Summer starts in July.” (I still laugh — although not in a cheery way, you understand at this too-true cartoon Dana once posted in comments.)

——

There’s an old cemetery in the hills near here. Many of its residents were born in the 1820s to 1840s — ancient history in this part of the world. (And they weren’t born here, of course; a number are veterans of the War Between the States.). A very few people still get buried there, but the death dates on the gravestones taper off in the early 20th century.

It’s a small place, no more than a circular clearing in the woods. The volunteer caretakers are always unconvering unknown graves on its edges, which are then reclaimed by the forest when one volunteer or another moves on or dies.

I wonder about the stories.

Once, two side-by-side graves intrigued me so much I ordered up the archives of the local paper to find out what happened. Two graves. Four people. All under 25. A mother and her month-old baby dying within a day of each other I could understand. Turns out the other two people, young men, the baby’s father and his cousin, died weeks later. Both fell off log booms in separate accidents. Both were experienced log-walkers and good swimmers. Both just fell off and died.

All four lived in the same household. Can you imagine?

Today, in the brush, I uncovered the headstone of a father and son. The father died in 1920 when the son was only three. The son’s dates were given as “1917 – Unknown.”

Well, I thought, maybe the son just hadn’t died yet when the stone was set. But there it was, not left blank but carefully engraved, “Unknown.” With the added notation, “Separated in life; together now in heaven.”

—–

I have no intention of being stuck for eternity in a cemetery, however peaceful and woodsy. But I wouldn’t mind having a headstone somewhere that tells A Story.

Make it a good one. A really good one. And somebody tell it well.

 
 


 
 

 
 
 
 
 
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