those to whom much is given

Well, well all know that much is expected. Not sure if this verse means monetary riches or spiritual ones. Sometimes they go hand in hand! My mindless obsession with justice internet reading habits have become refined as we prepare for NoTVmageddon once more. At this point, I could care less about watching Weeds for the nineteenth time. Time to enjoy season 7 again and find my inner Newman. Truth be told, I'm ready to hunker down and be a survivalist or something. Except I don't know how to shoot a gun and would die if I did because I'd get shot worse. That's the way my luck runs, ya'll. I spent most of the weekend burning up gift cards and lovin' every minute of it and managed to snag two oil heaters that I've been lusting after. Since we have no gas and whatnot we are happily nuking lean cuisines and staying warm with the dogs. I slept like a freakin' ROCK on that new bed last night....just saying.

My living room/office/pet lounge looks like a hippie chick version of hoarders, stuffed from corner to corner with boxes of "things" that I've sorted through. It's been a very long goodbye to the life that once was here to where we are at the moment. I distinctly remember my brother referring to our journey as "the beginning of the end". We have, by degrees, been saying goodbye for many years..to a lifestyle that blessed us with an abundance of nature and wildlife surrounding our homes. My father lived a farmer's dream as a USDA inspector by day and farm manager by day AND night. All the experience with minimal financial risk. He saw himself as their servant, the owners, and did the horse and saddle thing for years just so they could enjoy the ends of their lives here. I will never forget the time that I watched him take those horses out one last time for rides through the woods. There were two of 'em then...Pride and Trapper. We didn't see Pride for about a year after Trap was found dead in the pasture. Holed up in the barn with his grief, he did what he had to do to keep mourn his road dog and move ahead to his next thirty years. He's just that ornery too!

BG and I decided that November could well be National Suicide Month due to the absolutely nasty ass weather that is rivaled only by February. There is something to be said for window treatments during the winter. Still no tree because the spirit hasn't moved yet. And as we all know, I must leave room for that.

^j^