Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 5, 2020

Just Strolling About in The Plague Year

Blue picked up a Shadow Wolf on the way to the Pick 'n Steal this morning. A ferocious beast and I'm glad he's an ally.

And I wasn't complaining about the trees either, takes the edge right off the heat.

Not that it matters at First Methodist because they're shut, for fear the Bat Bug will kill them all. Which it hasn't, fortunately.

Blue enjoys his spot at the PNS, where he sits tethered to the always empty Star Telegram box. Why is it empty? Because no one wanted to buy the rubbish newspaper so the order wasn't kept up, but the box remains, a dusty, dystopic warning to the "press."

Behold the misbegotten debris of the modern age!

And needless to say, First Baptist decided to make war on their ancient enemy, the trees. And now a once leafy boulevard sits baking under a harsh Texan sun. Good work, guys. Get rid of all the shade.

We detoured around the Meth Shack to visit Genius Patrol. GP are two dogs who live in someone's back yard and bark insanely at anything which goes by. Sometimes I talk to them, they bark back.

Then it was back to the Compound, mission accomplished. And that, fellow boulevardiers, is the story of that.

God bless,


Monday, August 3, 2020

This And That

A cool breeze is blowing in from the north, and gentle rain turned gold by the evening sun falls on parched grass, hot concrete and spent brass. The smell of rain in a Texan August. Beautiful and rare.

Poetry aside, my eldest boy called this morning to say he'd been promoted to Specialist ahead of schedule. Well done, kid, keep it up. He's currently attached to the 2nd Armored Division and "on mission," which means he has to sit in a comms truck on weekends instead of enjoying Korean nightlife. His Platoon Sergeant's clearly wise.

In other news, Blue Eschaton's slowing down a bit and takes life philosophically, unless steaks or fried pies are on the table. Then everything's different.

Mind how you go,


Monday, October 1, 2018

Gone Fishing

"I know," I thought cleverly to myself, "I'll go fishing." And that was the plan for Monday morning, but it nearly got derailed because of a church PO Box and taking care of business.

Load up your rig with beer and tacos and head for glory.

Still, got to the lake and cast off with worms and a couple of lures, but the fishing was slow. Sure, a couple of bites here and there but nothing much. I blame that on the malfeasant, demonic static unleashed by Fienstein and her cohort of satanists on the world. It confuses the fish.

Look what the FBI caught!

The hideous Golem representative from California and her puppet aside, I managed to catch a decent Bluegill and had a couple of strikes with topwater. Some kind of Rapala lure, I think.

Then it was time to head home, happily tired out by clambering around the rocks of Soldier's Bluff in search of fish. Next step?


GUNS, and horses. This is important.

Your Pal,


Monday, October 24, 2016

Vote For The Dog!

No! Not Hillary "Wild Dog" Clinton, I'm talking about another candidate altogether.

Blue Ballot Box the Unbribable. He's running on a popular "steaks for all" platform. 

I like that.

God bless,


Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Chrism Mass, 2015

I drove to Bedford today, which is a kind of suburb of Fort Worth. It's where our cathedral is and that's where we go every year for the diocesan Chrism Mass.

It wasn't good to drive through the metrosprawl, but I did like being with the clergy and meeting up with like-minded friends.

Blue Liturgical came along for the ride, and got looked after by the kitchen staff, while we ate lunch. He seemed to enjoy the adventure, and one senior clergyman told me that "you should never trust a priest who doesn't like dogs."

God bless,


Friday, December 19, 2014


I wasn't looking for a dog. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a comsymp dog-hater, I just wasn't looking to get one. But Blue Eschaton thought otherwise. He turned up on the porch and didn't leave; I fed him, perhaps that helped.

The rest is history. I doctored him up and took him to the range, where he hasn't died yet, despite jumping up to catch the bullets. And now he's here; some think he's making his way to Californy, others think he's staying in Texas, where it's safe.

One thing's for sure. Blue Apocalypse loves Christmas, no doubt about it. He even snarls at people who say "Happy Holidays."

I like all of this.


Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Walking in Texas? Take a Gun.

They say that walking's good for you but in Texas you don't know what you'll find. 

Some Crew, All Wigged-Out In The Woods

Packs of wild dogs, turkeys, fierce hogs, maybe a dove or two and the occasional wigged-out crew of freaks, holed up in the brush, trying to "find the gig" and get back to Austin.

Mind How You Go

So I like to take a 12 gauge. 

Be safe,


Friday, August 6, 2010

Horse & Dog

Back in the far off, halcyon days of mid '90s London, when bushcraft and associated pursuits were still a concept in the mind of SBW (great blog) and King's Cross seemed like a good place to go dancing -- well, I would have raised a quizzical eyebrow if you'd said that I'd be a country parson in rural Texas. How things have changed, thank goodness.

These days I like nothing better than to get up for one more perfect sunrise, say the Divine Office and head off to the not so distant lure of...

ferocious dogs.

Highbrow Throroughbreds,

and a brisk workout in the equine way; good for mind, body and soul, especially when allied to guns of all sorts. But more of that anon.

Hunt 'em up.


Friday, June 4, 2010

Texas is Great

Why is Texas great? Well, simply because it is. I like the guns, dogs, horses, BBQ, farms and general sense of freedom, the religion's not bad too - at least from a trad Anglican perspective; lets hope all that increases instead of the opposite. Speaking of farms, here's a picture of Bonnie shifting bales out of her pickup. I offered to help but she just grinned and fired away till they were all sorted in no time flat - Bonnie's 70 - I probably would have slowed her down...

Apologies for not visiting the blogs - life's been strangely busy...

God bless,


Saturday, May 8, 2010

Roving About

A gun, one of Tom's

The last few weeks have been busy, taken up with guns - I need more of them, but who doesn't -


Bishop Iker, Good Man



Cats on the porch - they're not allowed inside,

and plinking.

Horses have moved to new pastures, where there's far more space and plenty of opportunity for going fast, which I like. Opportunity for coyote hunting too - not to be wasted. More anon.

God bless,


Saturday, March 13, 2010

Clean the Gun, Clear the Head

One of the reasons Texas is great is the fact that you get to see dogs in the back of pick-ups as you go off for a shoot. I try to get out a couple of times a week to blast away, or plink about with a .22, which is an old bolt action J.C. Higgins with iron sights. Nothing fancy, but accurate - I like the deliberation of working the bolt and focusing on the front bead sight, also the length of the thing works well for me. So that rifle gets plenty of use, but just because it's a lowly .22 doesn't mean it somehow cleans itself.

Speaking of which, I gave it a well needed take-down this evening by way of displacement activity and as usual found cleaning the weaponry clears the head. There's doubtless a moral in that, but I'll spare you the sermon. Here's a picture of some saddles instead.

Stay on the horse, shoot straight and have a blessed Sunday.

Gun rights,


Thursday, June 4, 2009

Dog Wars

The thing about country life after the city is that its peaceful; you can see the stars at night, the air's cleaner, there aren't so many cars, you can hear the birds sing and - the dogs bark. A lot, loudly, all the time, in my neighbour's back yard from around 6 a.m. when their pit bull brains are woken up by the Rooster, until around midnight when they're so exhausted by barking that they crash out.
It's an issue here and God fearing folk are taking deperate measures - as you can see, some have opted for poison, which is tempting. Others suggest sniping with .22, also tempting but risky - who wants to end up in gaol for performing a public service? Others again feel that a  Taser might do the trick. Well it probably would but I don't have one.
Whatever, it drove me out into the fields where I managed to stay on the horse, so that was good and even better - MCP has made a song which you might like to watch/hear. Its about the honesty of Great Britain's politicians
These it seems have sunk into a trough of eighteenth century style jobbery, corruption and malfeasance; just throw in piracy on the high seas and the illusion's near complete. Oh, we have that too! So what's missing? "Talent" says my supernaturalist friend and Church Warden, Alan Delgarde.
Maybe, but ah, the dogs are silent. At last. Never underestimate the power of prayer.