Herding Cats

As I was saddling up, I was attacked by a herd of cats. They launched a frontal assault on my leg, which they climbed, like furry pirates.

When they weren't doing that, they launched wave attacks on my feet. It was hard to move, I tell you, but I shook them off, got on the horse and rode out.

The horse was a bit rebellious, doubtless shook up by the cat attack, but she got over it and we galloped up several hills, took in the scenery, and then went through some woods. Real woods, mind you, not your brush, Mesquite, impenetrable thicket woods. 

By the time we got back to the barn a small herd of cows had displaced the cats and that, readers, is the story of that.

I love riding,

LSP

The Government is Your Friend

I heard an interesting thing at the ecumenical men's prayer breakfast this morning. The pastor who gave the message, which was good, said at one point that we die when we've reached the right level of spiritual achievement, or maturity. "I don't want to have to live to be 100 to get there!" he said jokingly.

He was implying that God takes us to Himself when the time is right, and I questioned him about this. "What about the 18 year old Confederate soldier who dies at Gettysburg. Did God kill him, or did Satan, in the form of a Yankee?" Or more seriously, "When a baby is killed in the womb, is its life ended because it's reached the level of spiritual development that God intends for that child?"

But let's not be too quick to judge. Death is a catastrophe and against God's will, but it's overseen by Providence and, ultimately, redeemed by the sacrificial death of Christ. With that in mind, I can think of several, perhaps many, who seem to have died at the right time.

Does that sound somehow gloomy and morbid? Well, consider this popular opinion, Viz. The Government is your friend.

No. It's not.

LSP

Ride English, in Texas

You can ride English in Texas, there's no "rule," and that's just what I did, drove over to visit a church person and tacked up, English-style. Blue Posting Trot came along too; he enjoys being out in the country with the other dogs.

I rode out at a post to a fanfare of barking, and headed off down the dirt road to a big plowed field. It brought back memories, because I used to run the ill-behaved Thoroughbred, JB, there. So I paused for a while and remembered that, then moved on.

The Arabian mare wasn't too sure she wanted to endure being separated from her pasture pals, but tough luck, horse, ride on. I picked up a gallop(s), too, though mindful of the uneven ground. No point in injuring the horse, or yourself, on a sun-baked boulder of plowed dirt.

Ready, Set, Go!

All in all a great ride, and I enjoyed riding English for a change. What are the benefits, if any? I'd say it gives you more contact with the horse; there's simply less between you and the animal. This lends itself to greater control, if you know how to use it. Some say that dressage skills make for better Western riding, and that sounds right to me, but I'm no expert.

Typically Happy Texan Dogs

What I do know is that it's a world of fun going fast, at one with the horse; slow too, and perhaps riding English has an advantage, because of closer contact, unlike our President's epic fail in Syria. But that's a different story.

All for Texas,

LSP

Dove Hunt

There's been a lot of horse lately, but not much gun. So loaded a shotgun in the truck and went in search of a more balanced life.

This meant walking the treelines in search of dove, and the method's simple, if not easy. Walk up on a tree with dove in it, and when they fly out of the tree like Exocet missiles, shoot them. At first there were no doves, although there were spiders.

Then the avian acrobats burst out of a tree! One round off, no birds down, and in fairness to me they were going fast at the outer limits of my range. So I headed over to a dried-up creek and hunkered down for a bit, listening to someone making a rabbit distress call somewhere off to my left, in the brush. For the benefit of coyotes, probably.

After shooting a snake, I climbed out of the creek bed and headed towards a small clump of trees. If I was a dove, would I be in those trees? I asked myself, and figured yes, I would be. Sure enough they were, and exploded out of the tree as I got up on it. Big excitement, shots were fired, adrenaline up, and another miss. 

Berating myself for being slow off the mark, I walked back to my starting point and chased a few birds along the trees, but didn't get a shot in the autumnal 100 degree weather.

So. LSP 0, Dove 1.

This isn't over.

LSP

Muslims Say No To Justin!

No, not the shariasymp Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, but another Justin, Justin Beiber, the world-renowned boy star pop legend.

Beiber's latest album, Purpose, which features the young superstar with a cross tattoo on its cover art, has been banned by Muslim countries in the war-torn Middle East, as well as Indonesia.

Banned

You know me, I'm not a big fan of the religion of peace, and its version of a human be-in centered on Mecca. But maybe they have it right this time.

Speaking of which, the Russians are deploying their aircraft carrier to the Mediterranean in order to strike our allies, Al Quaeda & Co, in Syria and beyond. 

Carry on,

LSP

Ride On

RP's philosophy is, I have land and I have horses, so I'm happy to share it, and I'm grateful for that, so I took a couple of bales of Coastal and two sacks of feed to this evening's ride, by way of saying thanks.

It was a fast ride, which I like, though we stopped to take in the scenery from time to time. From the top of one hill you could just make out trucks moving along the hideous nightmare that is I35. It felt good to be on horseback, viewing it from afar.

There's a number of ponds, or tanks, on the ranch, and some fish to caught. There's also deer, coyote, pigs and snakes. I didn't see any, though there's a logic to horseback hunting.

Good Philosophy

The porcuswine, or whatever, are used to livestock and won't spook at a horse if you ride up quietly on them. That's your opportunity to take a scout rifle, or a lever gun from your scabbard and shoot.

In other news, Vladimir Putin has accused Obama and other Western leaders of being "oatmeal heads." You can read all about it in ZeroHedge.

Ride on,

LSP

The Church of Satan Meets in Cleveland

A group of clergypersons blessed a Cleveland abortion clinic last week, on the initiative of a Methodist minister, Laura Young. The blessing was carried out by the Dean of Cleveland's Episcopal Cathedral, Tracy Lind.

"Bless this building," prayed Lind, "May its walls stand strong against the onslaught of shame thrown at it. May it be a beacon of hope for those who need its services."

Lind

Young heads up the Ohio chapter of the Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice (RCRC), which described abortion clinics as "sacred space" on Twitter, stating, "Religious people gathered to bless that space of sacred decision making.‪#‎GodBlessTheClinics‬."

The RCRC is an enthusiastic supporter of the taxpayer funded abortion giant, Planned Parenthood, which was praised by a group of clergy for doing "God's work." In a statement released by the Planned Parenthood Clergy Advocacy Board, which has Episcopal Church representation, the group thanked abortionists, "People who work for Planned Parenthood give care and respect to those in need, doing God’s work. For this we are grateful.”

The Episcopal Church

What part of doing God's work does selling baby parts to biotech firms fall under? Perhaps killing unborn babies for profit somehow counts as a service to God? Perhaps it does, but let's not pretend it's the Christian one.

In the meanwhile, members of the Episcopal Church et al might like to consider their affiliation to Moloch.

LSP

Be Ready

Via Pastor Lusted: "Uncle Volodoya is strong!" says little Obama, sitting syriassly on Putin's lap. 

Have you noticed how no-one any longer cares, or thinks it odd, that the US is backing Al Qaeda in Syria? I always thought we were fighting a war against them, I guess The Weather took their place.

Anyway, we were, until the Russians started killing them all, and their evil twin Caliphate. Then we weren't.

Good job, foreign policy geniuses.

LSP

Dog

Blue Heelers scorn libs.

LSP

The Curse of the Diocese of Gloucester Strikes Again!

Rachel Treweek must have enjoyed the sweet smell of success when she was promoted to one of the ailing Church of England's top jobs, and became Bishop of Gloucester. She may not have realized that the troubled diocese labors under an ancient curse.

The curse is believed to go back to the seventeenth century, when Dean Laud aroused Puritan outrage by setting up altar rails in the cathedral.

Recent victims of the curse include former Bishop of Gloucester, Peter Ball, who was recently given a 32 month jail sentence for sexually abusing 18 young men between 1977 and 1992. 

Michael Perham, Bishop of Gloucester from 2004 to 2014, was also investigated for sexual abuse and retired from the poisoned See. He was later acquitted.

Now the curse appears to be claiming another victim. Within months of becoming Bishop of Gloucester, Rachel Treweek began receiving rotten meat and hate mail, following her plans to build 350 new homes on church land in an idyllic Cotswold village.

The development project, which stands to raise £3million for the cursed diocese, has been attacked by Willersey residents, who believe it will wreck the unspoiled village. Church officials were heckled at a town hall meeting earlier this month.

Perhaps, for Rachel, as she unwraps her rotting food parcels, the pleasant odor of promotion might not smell so good.

Adult Weekly Attendance in the Diocese of Gloucester fell by 8.4% between 2003 and 2012.

LSP

Ecumenical Dialogue

Several of us were invited on a trail ride by one of the local Baptist churches, and off we went, after Mass.

The cavalry lined up for a photo while I was waiting for a trailer and a horse. Then we said a pre-ride prayer, hats off, and rode out.

A lot of the ride was through woods and the horses kicked up a storm of dust, which I found adventurous, in a Riders of Dune kind of way. But once out of the woods there was plenty of room and I went up and down the line of "follow my leader" riders. Sometimes at a gallop, sometimes not.

Dune

Bad form? I don't think so, but you don't want to get too carried away and run out and start a stampede. Fun for some, not for others.

Then, after a couple of hours, the ecumenical ride was over and we loaded the horses back into the trailers.

Don't be a Pathetic Lib Dupe Stooge of the NWO

I enjoyed everything about this experience, and it'll come in handy when civilization comes crashing down and you can't use your car anymore. Then the horse will rule.

God bless,

LSP

Don't be an Illuminati Stooge, Get Out And Ride

You can sit there reading the pathetically comsymp Guardian or the transsexual New York Times, whining about how gender is a construct, Islam is really peaceful and there aren't enough welcoming bathrooms, for all sexes. 

NWO Stooge Puppet

Sure, you can do that, as you sip your artisanal micro-brew; go right ahead. Or you can saddle up and go for a ride. I chose not to be an Illuminati stooge puppet of the New World Order and went for the latter option.

Typical Texas Street Scene

It was a beautiful evening, made all the better for heavy rain clouds, which appeared miraculously as I drove to my friend's ranch. It even started raining as I tacked up; God was surely smiling on this venture.

Mesquite Work-Out

We moved off briskly into the mesquites and I was curious to see how the horse would perform. Would she be willing and forward, or mutinous and backwards, balking and veering towards the comfort zone of the barn? She was a bit of both last time.

Good Horse

This time was different, she was very willing and a total pleasure to ride. We worked out around mesquites and trails and then moved to a big field and opened up. Walk, trot, canter, gallop, run! Then relax back down to a walk and do it all over again.

Horses Scorn Liberals

I took time to work on posting trot too; good for the horse's back, your stomach... and overall control. I know, posting is "English" but there's more than a few serious Western riders who advocate it. I texted one, a year or so back. Our conversation went like this:

"I'm going for a ride."
"You be careful."
"Don't worry, if it gets all tippy I'll hold on to the strange pommel thing."
"Saddle horn."
"Saddle horn?"
"Yes. Saddle horn. That's what we call it."
"Ah. I see."

Back to the Compound

My correspondent was a world champion bronc rider several years running and has forgotten more about riding than I will ever know. I respect that. A lot.

Ride on,

LSP