The Dog Is Free - In Mem Blue

Just a quick blast from the archive. I miss that Blue.

Always,

LSP

Blue Died

 

Blue died this morning. I'd let him out on the front porch with food and water and he didn't want to eat, very unusual, he just sat there panting. So I stroked his head a few times, walked over to the Pick 'n Steal for coffee and when I returned he was lying down by the front door, very still.

What a good boy! He came to the Compound in the Fall of 2014, a stray, and set up on the front porch until I fed him, doctored him up and took the furry little fella in. 

Of course he was young then and full of high spirits. Woe betide the unwary guest who dared leave a fried cherry pie untended on the dining room table, or a juicy steak, or Eduardo's chickens, or errant Fedex men. 

But that was then. Over the last year he became increasingly deaf and blind, not that he seemed miserable for it, but he certainly slowed right down and spent most of his time sleeping. 

I won't bang on; it's a mercy he went out as he did, quick and at home. I buried him today beside the house.

Blue Brigand, you will be very missed,

LSP

Happy Cooking With LSP - Yorkshire Pudding

 

how can anyone take you seriously?

Can you have too much of a good thing? No, but only if the thing in question is absolutely good. That in mind, this humble cookery blog's focusing on the X-Ring, yes, Yorkshire Pudding, so very tasty. But how do you make these "puddings"? Good question and here's my fix, backed up by experts.

nice

Get a mixing bowl, mine's made of pyrex, you maybe have some other kind and that's OK. Tip a cup of regular flour into the bowl. Add 4 eggs. Stir it all about until smooth, perhaps you use an Olde Wooden Forke to achieve this τέλος, or a whisk, or whatever, your call.

Next up pour a cup of whole milk or 3/4 cup of whole milk and 1 1/12 tbs water into the mix. Add 1/2 tsp of salt. Stir until the consistency of cream. Well done, you've just made Yorkshire Pudding batter, no small thing. So now what?

next add milk/water, don't forget salt

Put the batter aside, expert YP science says it doesn't matter if it goes in the fridge or not, I use the fridge, and let it rest. Settled science says the longer the rest the better, up to overnight, makes for a better rise, because science. But if you're turning these beasts on a schedule/dime, 30+ minutes works too.

this batter's ready to go hot

Then clean some guns, or catapults, kitchen knives and sticks if you're in the UK, wash the kitchen floor, catch up on blogs and LL's excellent meditation on Faith and Substance while the batter's resting. Admire the rus in urbe aspect of your Compound's back yard while you're at it, all is good. Next?

hot tin

Preheat oven to 425* and pour beef dripping or olive oil into your pudding tin. I use olive oil and a sixfold muffin thing; you don't need much oil/fat, just cover the bottom of each indent or, if you're going hardcore heavy metal, 8" heavy metal skillets (x2).

Well done, you've got this far, sharpen a kukri while the oven heats. When it's ready, put the oiled tin into the oven, let it heat up for around 10 minutes if you're using a Sixer muffin tin. Tin hot, experts say it doesn't matter if it is, take it out and pour in the batter, around a 1/4 cup per ripping hot indent. It should sizzle. Word to the wise, don't take the hot tin out of the oven with your hands, sayn.

Command & Control from the, er, kitchen

Too much detail? Hey, no gain without pain; fire the superhot tin into the 425* (some techologists say 450*) oven and let it do its thing for around 20 minutes. Word to the wise, don't take it out too soon or the puddings will collapse, you want a crispy exterior which upholds the rise. They should look something like this.

a bit done? Hey 4 outta six, not a bad ratio

Mission accomplished, behold the beauty of the thing and fall upon your scoff, yes, like a warrior.

Adveniat,

LSP

Rain Books Dog

 

You never know what our Old Enemy the Weather will throw at you. Today it launched rain and for a time the heavens opened and there it was, sky water, beautiful. In the midst of it all a call came through, "Padre, can you help load up some shelves for the food bank?"

Sure I could and did, especially as it was right across the way from the Compound. Lo and behold, this good deed came with an unexpected benefit, as is so often the case, notably a set of medium sized bookshelves, "All yours, LSP."

Benzinger

Good, I needed these because of a recent influx of books from my dad's library. He was a a bibliophile and we've only just, after a decade, got around to moving the books from Dallas to the Compound. Net result? Many boxes of books on the floor of a guest room waiting to be shelved, a nightmare of unfinished business.

But after a few shelvish hours it was nightmare over and books off the floor, what an affordable result. In the meanwhile, the climate had changed too, bizarrely, our enemy is so unpredictable, and the sun shone from a clear, big, blue Texan sky.

Where is the dog? I asked myself. Downstairs, on the porch, in the bathroom, in a guestroom, in my room, going den behind the couch? No, none of these, Blue Veteran was nowhere to be found. So I climbed in the rig and drove around the area looking for the pup, and found him a couple of blocks away, grinning like a dog.

He was happy to be lifted into the truck and happier still for the adventure of it all. OK, he's an old dog, blind and deaf, but he still enjoys life. I feel I should take him out to the range to roam about and feel free, he'd like that. Is this overly sentimental?

On topic, do you think that those who read and keep libraries will be the kernel of civilization when our current demonic babel implodes?

Ex Libris,

LSP

Shrines on New Years Eve

 

After reading LL's reflection on Guan Gong, it struck me that 1: I do not have a shrine or even a statue of the Chinese God of War but 2: I do have a shrine. It's just above my desk, aka "kitchen counter" and consists of a flag, crucifix and an Our Lady of Walsingham prayer card.

Not very warlike perhaps but appropriate for a padre, I think. That said, pistols, kukris, assorted bay'nets and knives have been known to find their way onto the multifunctional worksurface of the office, ahem, kitchen.

Dog

Speaking of which, many clergy keep something called "office hours." Off they drive to their churches, sit at a desk from 9-5 and then go home to their place in the suburbs. Almost as though they've taken "middle management" as some kind of beastly model or paradigm for ministry.

Never done such a thing, with one notable exception I've always lived next to the church. On the job which isn't a job but a way of life. That this has been in rural Texas for over a decade is providential, God has been very kind.

Just some trucks

This in mind, may He give us all every blessing from the beyond reckoning abundance of His grace in the coming year. More on that later, in the meanwhile, happy, almost, New Year. And pray for the repose of the soul of Benedict XVI, an exemplary servant of God.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Drones And A Prayer

 

No, not the Club, much as we love it, just the Christmas Quad. And what a grand hotel quad it is, flying merrily throughout the storied rooms of the Compound on its various missions. Lights on, drone action, here we go.

Training, if you like, get those piloting skills in if you've got any sense for the year ahead because guess what, anything could happen in 2023. I kid you not and perhaps you agree. In the meanwhile, we're celebrating the Feast of the Holy Innocents. Here's a prayer:

O ALMIGHTY God, who out of the mouths of babes and sucklings hast ordained strength, and madest infants to glorify thee by their deaths; Mortify and kill all vices in us, and so strengthen us by thy grace, that by the innocency of our lives, and constancy of our faith even unto death, we may glorify thy holy Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

 

Powerful, eh? And while we're at it, pray for the overthrow of Moloch.

God bless,

LSP

Sunday Comms

 

There we were on the back porch, just me, Old Blue and a razor sharp kukri. Typical, maybe a glass of well chilled wine was involved. Then the sat phone rang. Yes, it was the Wolf.

"Are you able to pay full time clergy or is it all volunteer, like the Mormons?" I thought about this for maybe a second, "No, we're all good in this diocese, unlike, say, the Episcopalians. They're running out of cash to pay full time pastorenes. Go figure."

"Maybe this will help," offered LL with an infovid of PMC WAGNER recruiting out of some penal colony. "Good call. We'll bus those convicts straight to the homes of Episcopalien bishops. Kinda like sanctuary cities but house church."

"Exactly," said the Wolf, who proceeded to lay out preliminary plans for the operation. All well and good, then a rambunctious soldier burst through the back door, full of youthful high spirits allied to fitness, "Hey Dad, how's it going!" I stared into his EyePros. "Everything's good, kid, we're just fixing to solve a clergy staffing crisis. Working title? OPERATION MARTHA'S VINEYARD."

Have a beautiful Sunday.

Cheers,

LSP

What A Good Couple Of Days

 

It started as it often does, with a drive down I35 to the Metrosprawl, but this time in a V8 Beast, result. Objective? Set up at Dallas HQ then visit with the Bishop the next day and, the day after that go for a post-op checkup at a medico in Plano.

Two orders of business, several possible orders of outcome. So perhaps I was a little... pensive, how would it go? It went well. Had a great meeting with our outstanding new(ish) Bishop, which found financial security for Mission #1. No small thing, I live there.

And the Doc was helpful too, "You know, that was a pretty serious operation and you're healing way better than expected, I'm surprised." Result, and I drove back to base through the Tollway wasteland of North Dallas in good spirits.

Seriously, surgery's a deal. I know, we're all Warriors, but still, it's helpful to have the thing checked off by a doctor. He's Christian, to boot, and asked for permission to pray before the op, "Of course you can, I'm a priest." And there you have it, back to the sylvan boulevards of Old Hill County tomorrow.

Drive Safe,

LSP

Just Hanging Out

 

Just hanging out in Dallas, Lao Tze style, enjoying the porch

Good thing there's a handy leaf blade knife, right?

Blue agrees, he's up for a treat scrap

In other news, the appalling Salman Rushdie's been stabbed by some outta control Jihadist. Rushdie wrote the aggressively annoying Satanic Verses and incurred a Fatwah. Well, looks like it caught up with him. Bad luck, Rushdie.

I met the bizarrely annoying Rushdie back in the '90s at some place in London. He was with the even more annoying Malcolm McLaren, who distinguished itself by wearing fancy shirts without cuff-links. Whoa, what a radical.

The intenselt irritating McLaren died in 2010, Rushdie still lives.

All best,

LSP

Under The Knife

 

0430. Get up. Feed the Blue, hop into a waiting Uber and head North  to Dallas' famed Preston Plaza. But why do such a thing at such an ungodly hour? Because I had to get an inguinal hernia fixed at the Plaza's surgery center and was first on the list.

We got there early, which gave me time to scope out the renowned plaza. "Not so much a plaza as a car park," I thought grimly to myself, staring at empty lots overlooked by medium rise, black glass offices, one being the surgery center.

0600. March promptly into the medicos, sign some papers, put on a made in China mask, because Science, and before you know it you're in a hospital bed waiting for anesthetic and surgery. I didn't have to wait long and enjoyed a short prayer with the surgeon, what a good man. Then next thing you know it's 0930, the procedure's done,  and it's time to go back to Ma LSP's. So quick. 

So there you have it, Tuesday morning under the knife and now a few days off in Dallas. Thanks Doctor, and associated team.

God bless,

LSP

On The Way

 

One of the crew ended up in hospital the other day with a heart condition, but by the grace of God he survived and one pacemaker later was back in his newbuilt home today, recovering. I drove out to see him, and I tell you, it felt good to be out in the country. There it is, lying there in the searing heat, Texas. Good too to find my friend in good spirits and recovering, though weak. We prayed for a full recovery.

In other news, the Russkies had a good week, capturing Sverdonetsk along with neighboring territory and look set to capture Lisyshansk (across the river from Sverdonetsk) shortly. Smart UKR troops made it out of the encirclement, on foot?, and fell back to the Bakmut/Kramatorsk defense line. Expect RF forces to move West to test this after securing their rear. Or not. Here's a map from Rybar:

It's similar, when you think of it, to a mini version of Operation Bagration, but at a company and battalion level as opposed to divisional, and both sides seem to be operating on something like the 1944 playbook. Mini or not, it's no joke when it's your kid who dies in the fury of thing. And die they have, to the tune of tens of thousands. 

This is hideous, unlike Blue's new friend who's cute as all get out. But here's the thing. No cats in the house and this one's going to a different home after being rescued from ghetto street life by a soldier. 

He calls it "Bobby," which is sweet, but "Bobby" is not taking up residence, plaintive, sentimental, unrealistic, pugnacious protests notwithstanding.

Your Pal,

LSP

Cinco De Mayo Apocalypse

 

Rain lashed down as lightning cracked across a darkening sky and thunder rolled across the firmament like massed guns on the Donbas salient. Terrifying. Of course I set up on the porch and braved the elemental power of the storm while the Compound shook and shuddered with each blast of celestial fury. 

Then it was time to head to the kitchen and make coffee, wondering at the day turned to night. Was this the apocalypse, the Eschaton, brought on by our Old Enemy the Weather? Will there be anything left of this small Texan farming community when the waters subside? Discarded weaves, tamale husks, meth bags? Such is the wake of the flood.

Blue Ahab didn't venture an opinion, being unable to speak as well as blind, but he looked in need of a treat or two, delicious Alpo Variety Snaps, which he loves with fierce abandon. "Have these delicious snaps, my furry Bulgakov," I uttered, giving the faithful protector a couple of irresistible chicken flavor dry biscuit things. Yum. 

Doggerland Utopia

At last the storm's subsided, and this part of Texas still stands firm above the waters of chaos. We have not sunk beneath the flood unlike the hapless DOGGERLAND.

Stay Safe,

LSP

War On

 

A war rages at the Compound. The protagonists?

An exotic duck.

And a ferocious dog, seeking whom he may devour.

You see, what happens here is that the duck flies over the perimeter in search of food and Blue Terminator doesn't take that lying down. No, he advances to contact, slowly, because he's blind. Meanwhile the duck continues, oblivious, until the last moment and then flies away.

Make of this problem farm parable what you will.

Rus in Urbe,

LSP

Easter - 8 Days After

 

Birds sing and fight ferociously with squirrels, Blue Terminator rests on the kitchen floor, Mex/Latino big bass pounds from the neighbor's compound and it's the second Sunday of Easter. Or the first if you're old skool lectionary.

Lectionary wars aside, here's some Farrer:

THE death and resurrection of Christ draw near to us in this sacrament.  The bread is broken - there Christ dies; we receive it as Christ alive - there is his resurrection.  It is the typical expression of divine power to make something from nothing.  God has made the world where no world was, and God makes life out of death.  Such is the God with whom we have to do.  We do not come to God for a little help, a little support to our own good intentions.  We come to him for resurrection.  God will not be asked for a little, he will be asked for all.  We reckon ourselves dead, says St. Paul, that we may ask God for a resurrection, not of ourselves, but of Christ in us.

 

Christ in us, crucified and risen. What can we do but with Thomas, fall down and worship at touching so great a mystery, my Lord and my God! Some call that the most magnificent confession of faith in Gospels.

Pax,

LSP

A Day of Rest

 

After the rigors of Holy Week it only seemed right to take a day of rest at family HQ in Dallas. Blue agreed and wasted no time falling to sleep on a Moslem rug, not that he's a Moslem, by the beard of the Prophet, but he does like their rugs.

As do I, but rugs aside you may have noticed something about the soldiers fighting in the Ukraine. There's all sorts, obviously, but some seem more equal than others, they're bigger and older, as if construction worker turned gunfighter. 

Shades, when you think on it, of the German veterans who went into the Ardennes, or something like that. Huh. Modern war as deconstruction site and soldiers as its lethal tradesmen and laborers? Respect to both, but still.

Speaking of the Ardennes, imagine you were wandering around inna woods of Ukraine with, say, an SS dagger, just coz, and you were captured by some Chechens. What would you say:

A. I just found it, honest!

B. I'm a battlefield archeologist, my good sir.

C. Give a crisp Seig Heil, sing a verse of Erika and wait to be recruited into the WAGNER PMC?

 

All options are risky and I'd have gone for unspoken option D. Lose that bad boy before you get captured. Some guy didn't the other day in Mariupol and looked more than a little sheepish. Maybe he's still alive, unlike this unfortunate.

Note ALGIZ rune

Seriously, what's with all the NSDAP in Eastern Europe? Well, therein lies another tale.

Mind how you go,

LSP

Annunciation

 

It's the great and glorious Feast of the Annunciation today, so to mark the angel Gabriel's message to Our Lady I said the Angelus and Divine Office at Mission #2's Marian shrine. I know, that sounds pious and curatelike but so what, there's no "rule," except that outdoor shrines to Our Lady have  power, even the humblest.

Then, in a spirit of Stella Maris it made sense to head to the lake. The water was down and clear, would there be fish? So on went polarized glasses and the piscine recce patrol commenced, know the water, catch the fish sort of thing.

Apart from a small school of Buffalo Carp, gliding like submarines seeking whom they may devour, nothing. The surge wasn't on, though it will be in a week or two. I'm looking forward to that and have to renew a license.

Back at the Compound birds and squirrels are fighting ferocious turf wars, it's like Donetsk, Kiev, Kherson, Kharkov or Mariupol except the protagonists are our furred and feathered friends. Speaking of which, if they were bigger would they eat us?

Dog's wouldn't, so much, and that's in their favor. Cats? Different story.

God bless,

LSP

WE beseech thee, O Lord, pour thy grace into our hearts; that, as we have known the incarnation of thy Son Jesus Christ by the message of an angel, so by his cross and passion we may be brought into the glory of his resurrection; through the same Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

JUICY!

 

We all know what happened. Super famous celebrity Empire talent Juicy Smollet was attacked in Chicago outside a Subway, where zhe was getting a sammich. 

Yes, at 2 am, in -20* weather, Juicy was savaged by two men in ski masks who put a noose on the world famous screen idol, poured bleach on zhim, hurled racial slurs and shouted, horrifically, "This is MAGA country!" before running off into the freezing night.

Guilty, M'Lud

What an horrendous hate crime! Except that it wasn't. Leaving aside curious anomalies like bleach freezing at -20, Juicy's story began to unravel when it was revealed that zhir attackers were, in fact, two Nigerian brothers who were Empire extras and physical trainers. Smollett paid them $3,500, by check, idiotically.

Jericho Green gives magisterial commentary on Juicy's faux hate crime here, here, and here, check it out. In the meanwhile, the hapless victim of his own risible screenplay's been found guilty by a Chicago court and has to serve 30 months felony probation, 150 days in gaol and pay a $120k fine.

#MillSoc Fraud

Here at the Compound, Blue snarled, "I think that lying thespian fraud got off real light." I looked at the aged cow dog, curled up on a Moslem rug with his absurdly spotted tail and replied, "Quite."

As of 2022 Juicy's net worth was an estimated #MillSoc $1.5 million. So utterly oppressed. 

Cheers,

LSP

***

UPDATE JUICY SAYS NOT SUICIDAL

If I did this, then it means I stuck my fist in the fears of black Americans in this country for over 400 years and the fears of the LGBTQ community. Your honor, I respect you and I respect the jury, but I did not do this, and I am not suicidal. And if anything happens to me when I go in there, I did not do it to myself, and you must all know that. I respect you, your honor. I respect your decision. Jail time [pause]. I am not suicidal.

 

What?!? Why would this rich, successful, protected class thesp be driven to suicide? Did Juicy somehow annoy somebody? Magnum mysterium.