Light It Up

 

We decided to up our Christmas lights at the compound this year, which meant driving out into the cedar groves of Olde Texas to get greenery. This soon turned into wreaths, yes, wreaths, with Wreath Minor landing on the front door and Wreath Major taking care of overwatch above the porch. Then it escalated, and before you could say Operation Bagration or I'll see you at a knife fight with a 30-30 Marlin there were garlands.

Yes, garlands of cedar complete with bows, and lights. I tell you, it was like something out of a Charles Dickens novel, in Texas. Mrs. LSP takes the credit for this Yuletide splendor but I helped, climbing up on the roof, running wire and humming God rest ye merry gentlemen with a kind of Victorian fervor.

Now? Dallas and the Metrosprawl. Mission? Set up Christmas at Ma LSP's. No rest for the wicked, you see. But what can I say, cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.

Your Friend,

LSP

Mexicans On The Roof

 

Never a dull moment at the Compound. Today we had Mexicans on the Roof? Why? Because the roof over the church hall was rotten and had to be replaced and the Hernandez crew gave us the best deal. So off they went, crashing and banging and nailing from 0800.

Not that I'm complaining, those boys work hard, for a realistic price and sure enough, they'd removed rotten shingles and laid a new set by end of play. Of course they wanted a check for fiddy percent on completion.

Well, they'll get get that tomorrow morrow morning. And what a good gang, hard working, polite, quick and hey, they got the job done at a good price. Were those boys wearing gold crucifixes? Yes they were, and I like that too.

So here we are, new roof on and all the better for it. Beto, on the other hand, is suffering from MillSoc MonkeyPox. Count your blessings as you find 'em, eh?

Rule Britannia,

LSP

What A Good Day

 

You know what it's like, some days are sluggish, unproductive, but not this day. Say Morning Prayer, read the news, then drive to Whitney for breakfast with one of the flock. What a good guy, he has a ranch outside of Valley Mills and scorns our Globalist, Illuminati, MillSoc Overlords as much as the best of us. Fun to shoot with, too.

So that was good and before you could whistle Dixie there I was, back at the Compound getting stuck in to the next evolution. Viz. Get a magazine ready to send to a printer in the DFW metrosprawl. 

Defende Nos

"Text Frame Options," "Place," "Draw Text Frame," choose compelling graphic to illustrate articles you hopefully don't have to rewrite, and all of that. Seriously, sometimes you have to wonder, is English your first language. 

17 Buck Threeper

Well it pretty much was in this instance and I got the job done, result. Sharp looking book, off to press you go. Next step? Drive out to the lake church and say Mass, always uplifting, and stop by a country supermarket on the way for provisions. Lo and behold, they had a Threeper at pre-Bidenflation prices. Wow. Buy it and thank God for his great goodness.

Chilled

Now, back in this congenial if asset-stripped Texan farming community, it's time to celebrate the several victories of the day.

Cheers,

LSP