Clean. It. Up.

 

wash that filth away

Here's the thing. Our hard-won civilization may be dissolving before our eyes but that's no excuse to let standards slip, far from it. To that end I pressure washed the pavement leading up to HQ and the porch itself, along with the venerable Compound's timber sided west wall and windows.

Great result, everything looks fresh and weirdly civilized. Ferns hang, cushions, ahem, sit on swing, and the deck's clean and ready for action. The total, when you think about it, reverse of our hell-hole cities. So congrats on a good job well done; the Compound breathes clearly now because dirt and grime has been washed away. It all looks... strangely white.

There's a moral in this, if you care to draw it.

Your Pal,

LSP

Hanging Ferns

 

Well look at that, an hanging fern, damme.

And What's this, flowers? Apparently so.

Yet more of them. A veritable deluge.

A friend texted me, "Is this Ante Bellum?" I replied, "No, more like 1910." Era Discipline you see, but perhaps you're wondering, "Does the irregular if prestigious DLC (Dallas Light Cavalry) allow wymxn into its midst?" No, of course we don't, but there is a Lady's Side, and a powerful one.

All this to say nothing of the RHA, which used to be a combat unit with a ceremonial side, being 50% wymxn. Canons are roaring, right? More on the UK's pathetic DEI defense capability and preposterous belligerent grandstanding later. But I will say this. Would any of you sacrifice a single penny or drop of blood to defend the UK as she now is? Let's see how how UK recruitment figures are stacking up.

Feel free to discuss.

Your Friend,

LSP

Power Wash

 

So what's going on at the Compound? Good question. Power washing the back deck with a Hyper Tough pressure washer. Wow, watch that grime get washed away.

Next step? Sand the ancient timbers of the deck or merely cover them with a stained seal? Dunno, let's see what kind of wisdom prevails. In the meanwhile, it's all going on here, and that's no bad thing.

Next installment in this thrilling episode of Southern Country Home? HANGING FERNS. Stay tuned, punters.

Your Best Pal,

LSP

Memorial Day 2025

Thunder rolled like the sound of distant guns, a young buzzard picked at the carcass of an armadillo in the street and there you have it. A Memorial Day morning stroll down the sylvan boulevards of Olde Texas to the Pick 'n Steal, aka Shamrock filling station, for coffee and Marlboro Light Shorts. 

There'll be hamburgers on the grill later with good time to be had for all. That said, let's not forget the purpose of the day. Here's a short prayer from the 1928 BCP:

ALMIGHTY God, our heavenly Father, in whose hands are the living and the dead; We give thee thanks for all those thy servants who have laid down their lives in the service of our country. Amen

May they rest in peace and rise in glory,

LSP

Well It's All Going On

 

There's a new addition to the Compound's motor pool, a tractor. Why? you ask in that bewilderedly exasperated tone of voice. Because of course there is. Rumors of impromptu engine block hoist are entirely that, rumors. 

In other news, this Democrat freak from Connecticut is a member of Congress, a "law maker," no less. Here, have a look at Rosa.

Zhir socialist net worth is a paltry 3MN$, which makes her one of the poorer members of our Beloved Ruling Elite. Too bad she's not getting that vaunted 40% pay raise touted in the dismally failed porculus CR Bill. I know, we all want to pay our dear rulers moar but sometimes patience is a virtue.

Speaking of which, Germans in Magdeburg aren't too happy about the Saudi Arabian doctor who rammed into a Christmas market. Here they are, on the streets.

The German people are out on the streets saying ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.

They want mass deportations.

This needs to happen for the whole of Europe and the UK

Our future depends on it. pic.twitter.com/oIIXpfT5TH

— God Save Great Britain (@GSGB01) December 21, 2024

Apparently the car killer Saudi was an apostate Moslem and an AfD supporter promoted by the vile, hated, rude, condescending, deceitful, pugnacious, smug BBC, no less. Huh. What a convenient narrative. Islamophobia kills Christians at Christmas market! If you believe that you'll believe anything, as in "men can have babies."

dam straight they do

In the meanwhile, Magdeburg's people are taking a stand against their country's suicidal empathy for Jihadi savages who hate, despise and want to conquer their formerly Christian hosts. Imagine the same thing in Two Tier Kier's England; all those guys would be locked up. Well you know the saying.

Something better change,

LSP

Walkabout

 

Thanks to Hurricane Beryl crashing into our eastern shore it's unseasonably, blissfully cool here, only in the 80s. This is rare, remember, it's July, in Texas. Had someone bothered to do their duty to fragile planet earth and paid their carbon tax, had they obeyed the Pope himself? Perhaps, and I took advantage of this welcome lull in the War on Weather to stroll over to the square and from there to the supermarket.

Yes, we still have one, Brookshires, right in the center of this erstwhile cotton town which once numbered some 20,000 souls. It's now less than half that because we sent our cotton industry overseas to make moar money. But hold on. Not very far from me, on the way to the Pick 'n Steal Shamrock filling station, there's a house for sale.

It's been "done up" and looks pretty good, about the same age as mine but without the upper story. So there I was, strolling along the bucolic boulevard that is Franklin on my way to get coffee at the PNS, all the while admiring the refurb of this house. 

"Nice job on the house," I say to the woman hosing down a newly laid concrete walkway to the front porch. She's wearing a faded Billy Joel tour T shirt, which I recognize, dating us both, and she recognizes me, after all, I walk this path daily. So it's all very sunny hello. "So what's the price on the house?" I ask, genuinely curious, "They're asking 329k" she replies.

Like, wow. 329k for a pre-WWI bungalow with a single room attic upper story. Maybe, dear readers, I've misjudged the prosperity of our little town. And go figure, the same set up would be twice that in in Dallas, which is only an hour away in slow traffic. That in mind, why are there still so many vacant and semi-abandoned properties in the center of town?

Surely it'd make sense to convert these into places to live and restore civic life to the center of this place. Maybe you can picture it, a town square with shops and restaurants, with life as opposed to asset-stripped dereliction, and all watched over by our Confederate War Memorial, a stern and stoic soldier cast in stone. 

Compound

To be fair, some people are working towards this not inconsiderable goal, and good for them. Of course they're hoping to make a lot of money off the project, and I hope they do, but it's a bit of gamble. Will Dallas cash move south down I35 to LSPland? It is so far, in a small way. That in mind, where will the people who can't afford nearly half a million bucks to live in a bungalow actually live? Serious question.

Reverie over, I arrived back at the Compound from this latest recce patrol and all was well, the place still standing. We must thank God for his blessings.

Salve,

LSP

What A Mess

 

What, you say, the state of this great nation, which is apparently hellbent on going to Hell by the nearest available off ramp? No, that's a different post, I'm talking about the Compound. You see, what happened is this. I went off to visit my pal's Battle Farm in Paris Texas, all well and good, and then stayed the night in Dallas by way of filial piety. Nice, but guess what happened? It rained, and it rained mightily.

Then the rain stopped, like the Flood itself, and back we went to this bucolic slice of rural paradise in North Central Texas. Except it wasn't paradise, far from it. While I was away the church basement had flooded, wrecking the AC units cunningly stationed in its flood plain, and so had the basement in the house. In both locations our sump pumps had pathetically broken and there were the basements, awash with around three feet of water.

Worse than this, the sewer line from the Compound was partially blocked with debris, which would explain partial backups onto the kitchen floor when you run the clothes washer. Huh. Better call an electrician and a plumber, which we did.

Long story short. We pumped out the water, Electrics is looking to fix the AC and a crew of plumbers has been working pretty much around the clock to fix the sewer line. No kidding, they were here till almost midnight yesterday, digging up the line. I asked them, "I hope you're getting overtime," and they replied, "No, it's for a good cause, the Church."

Right on, and by the grace of God and sheer dint of hard work those boys cleared the line today out to the mains, some 100 feet away, and set the thing up for a dual clean out. Good work, kids, over and above the call of duty. And let's thank God for this too, the pipe in question is PVC, not clay or iron.

So that's what's been going on here in the country since Wednesday, electricians, plumbers and our ongoing war against the Weather. We shall prevail in this particular skirmish, and emerge stronger. In related news, our Beloved Rulers seem all in favor of the draft, as in "draft all the young people to fight a war."

"Why," asked my eldest, "should I fight a war for Rainbow Corporate GloboHomo and it's transnational rulers?" You see, he was thinking of getting out into a lucrative IT job, let the reader understand. I replied, quick as a flash, "You won't, you'll be part of the training cadre. Stay in and get the most out of it." He seemed to get the sense of that.

Regardless, we're approaching full water here unlike, say, Idaho. Speaking of our Rulers killing some 500,000 square acres of farmland in the Potato State, do you think they really hate us or just don't care, which is the same thing.

Cheers,

LSP

Branded Burger

Do you go out for dinner? I don't, hardly ever, but tonight a kind churchman invited, "We'll be in town this evening where we can do our business. Why not join us for dinner afterwards?" What, dinner in the NCTEZ (North Central Texas Exclusion Zone)? Terrifying prospect, but it can be done, at Branded Burger.

Branded Burger is a family owned Midlothian restaurant which has expanded into a few neighboring towns and their slogan is, "Where The Locals Eat." Their signature is a burger in a bun which has been branded with their... brand and stabbed through with a black plastic knife.

As in, take that, burger, I forgot my Benchmade or Opinel, so here's this plastic knife statement. Marketing aside, the Branded Burger is pretty dam good, coming in seared and quick at around 7 bucks. The patty? Close to an inch thick and properly medium rare. Yes, this is a good burger and I devoured mine like a hungry wolf.

Verdict: If you're lucky enough to travel through our storied lands, stop at Branded Burger, they're alright.

Boodles Forever,

LSP

UFO Or Gravel?!?

 

What is this, some kind of UFO or "UAP" come to rest in the greensward of the Compound's vehicle park? No, it was not, just a load of aggregate arriving to "improve the ground" and make it "code compliant." Whatever that means in today's movable feast of  civic virtue.

Aggregate and a Rig

Far-sighted readers will remember the Code Cops paid us a visit a few days ago because someone had made a formal complaint about vehicles parked on our attractively grassy lot and demanded they go unless the "ground was improved."  After a congenial conversation about Glocks, I assured the Code Constables that there'd be a solution.

Sure enough there was, with D turning up with serious amounts of aggregate and gravel. He told me he'd do it and he did, I respect that, well done. Next step? March across the way to the church which generously hosts your rigs on its erstwhile grass. He tells me he will, after all, it's his local.

Gravel

Hey, I can't complain, all that "ground improvement," ahem, doesn't come cheap. Thanks, D, 'preciate you, what a good neighbor.

In Rure,

LSP

Well Done Team

 

Here's the thing, an old wooden house needs looking after or it falls apart and doesn't work, not unlike a gun. That in mind, the front porch of the Compound needed fixing and that's exactly what happened, Salvatore turned up, pencil behind ear and made it happen.

First off, get rid of the old wood and reinforce the beams that undergird the Compound. Next up? Shore up a pillar and replace the old deck with tongue and groove. Then paint the thing, and so they did.

Well done, boys, looks good. Quite unlike the hideous New World order envisaged by our Elite Billionaire Overlords.

Cheers,

LSP

A Curious Thing

 

A curious thing happened today. All the people from Mission #2 who like to go the increasingly popular Shooky's of a Thursday evening turned up at Mass first, without any prompting. That's right, with not a word from me, not even an annoyingly jocular clerical bribe, "Hey, there's a 10% discount if you go to Mass first," ha, ha, sorta thing. No, they just turned up.

Well done, team, and it makes sense. Our communion with one another flows from communion with God in the Mystical Body of Christ, nourished, vivified and deepened at the Altar. Get that right and the other follows naturally.

You know, I recall a priest in DC who told me, "We're at the point where the people here don't even think of doing a parish event without going to Mass first." Right on, worship, giving ourselves in love to God, comes first, always. 

It's what we're created for, and we saw a little bit of that North Central Texas this evening.

Stella Maris,

LSP

Out And About

 

One of the things people like to do after Mass at Mission #2 is go out for lunch and I joined in today. We went to Shooky's, which is a congenial little setup overlooking Lake Whitney at Parson's Marina. I hadn't there been before, strangely, and liked it a lot.

The food was good, I can recommend their pepperoni pizza, the view over the lake tranquil and I liked the fishing lodge, marina ambiance of the place. Just a really pleasant way to spend an hour or so after church and with great company to boot.

What good people! Representing several walks of life, law enforcement, banking, engineering, ranching, and all united in the Faith. Were there any libs at the table? No, there were not. Was anyone armed? Woe betide the fool who attempted to rob Shooky's on a Sunday afternoon.

Seriously, I feel blessed by such a good hearted congregation and am amazed at its range. It's easily the most intellectual church I've served but at the same time totally down to earth. From people who write books like I'd like to shoot dove to rodeo stars and all else in between, and right there in Bosque County, Texas.

Who'd have thought it, yet there it is. Go to Shooky's if you get the chance, I think you'll have fun.

God bless,

LSP

Something Good

 

Don't you have anything good to say, so-called LSP? you ask, grimly. Well yes, yes I do. After Mass on Thursdays I stop off at a small country supermarket to pick up provisions, David's in Whitney. What a friendly crowd and after a while you get to know the mostly elderly cashiers.

One of them, a wiry tough old lady, asked me at the checkout, "Feeling alright?" and I replied, "Still standing, by the grace of God." She smiled and said, "So am I! I've just met a man and he has money in his account and I won't have to do this job. My last husband was a demon. He was on nuke subs and we were married thirty years and he was a demon, he'd beat me. Now I've found a man who loves me, praise God."

Praise God, she meant it too, and her eyes sparkled there at that checkout at David's in Whitney. I smiled and praised God with her, what a faithful and good old lady, "Bless you." But would newfound love and recompense stick?

A month later, yesterday, I was at our rural haven's shopping mall, Walmart, and there she was, happy as could be, and she introduced me to the man who wasn't a demon. "This is..." and we shook hands, "You'll excuse me for looking like an unemployed fisherman but I am, in fact, a priest." He grinned in a lined face, brown with the weather and still strong, a countryman, out here in Texas, and off we went. Both of them light with happiness and that light lifted me up too.

Cheers,

LSP

SKYWATER

 

Here in Texas we call it skywater, water that literally falls from the sky, and we haven't had any since May - until this afternoon. It began slowly, tentative drops patterning the sidewalk, please don't stop, then picked up pace.

Astounded, I stood on the porch, looking out in wonder. Wow, actual rain, you could see it, and with the skywater came thunder, lightning and a sudden drop in temperature. Beautiful.

Then it stopped, but for how long. Even now, dark clouds are rolling in from the West; will they break and unleash a cataclysmic storm upon this small heat stricken country town? 

Here at the Compound we watch and wait, expectant.

Eschaton,

LSP

Work Day

 

One of the things that happens here is we have a Men's Breakfast which meets once a month. The men of Mission #2 meet up for breakfast burritos, tasty, and enjoy each other's company, good Christian fellowship.

Today everyone converged on Mission #1 for the usual tasty burritos and then some work on the grounds. Pressure washing, hedge trimming, my task, and all of that. They worked hard, what good guys.

Then it was over, around Noon, and we celebrated with a cold beer on a tailgate. And all was well with the world, at least this little part of it. Great result, so there you have it.

God bless,

LSP

Changes

 

typical Texas street scene

Changes, I won't link to the Bowie song, but that's what this small aspect of rural North Central Texas is all about. Yep, changes. For example, the hideous yellow Queen Anne house is no longer yellow, its siding's been ripped off and new and remarkably ugly plastic windows face the public from its historic visage. 

why is this even called "Queen Anne"?

Hey, maybe this is better than the crack house it's been for the last 15 years, likewise our old favorite, the Meth Shack. Alas, the Meth Shack's no longer home to tack-heads in their underwear, wife beaters and pajama bottoms lolling around onna porch with lotto tickets and heads fulla meth.

Meth Shack

No, it's been bought by Jose, who's fixing the place up, well done. But who will buy the Disciples of Christ? Good question, ask the realtor; I liked that little congregation and it's sad to see it go down. But what can we say, so many little conventicles within a several block radius, all of them in competition.

for sale, alas

I tell you, if this town had been set up by Christians its central monument and focus would have been a collegiate church, surrounded by cafes, restaurants, fountains, gun shops, bakers, Confederate monuments and everything civilized. But no, we put up a courthouse.  There, in the very center of town lies a monument to secularism. Reflect, drill down on such wickedness.

pick 'n steal

Too harsh? Perhaps, but even so, it speaks to the hierarchy of Law and Faith in our country. The former clearly pulls rank on the latter. Westphalia aside, look at the result, Faith is trampled on by secular Law.

the Compound

But not at the Compound, and some things don't change. The Pick 'n Steal stands steady in the ferocious crosswinds of our present culture war and so does the Manse. Yes, accidents may very well change but substance remains the same.

It's raining now, a storm's blown in, we thank God for that.

Your Friend,

LSP

Sol Invictus

 

The sun rises over Texas, incandescent, unrelenting, invictus, unconquered. Do we back down and hide, skulking like so many knaves in our air conditioned dens? No, we stride out to meet the challenge, all the way to the nearest Pick 'n Steal.

Sure enough, there's modern age debris strewn across the way. A rubberized glove, some ear defenders, but no weaves, dime bags (right price, Ed?), needles, losing lottery tickets and beat up VIP passes to Taylor Swift gigs. Such is life in this blighted second decade of the Great Reset.

No matter Green New Deal, whoever said life'd be easy? Here's our 81 million vote beloved ruler, Old Joe, whom everyone loves:

Your Very Best Pal,

LSP