I didn't make it to the store. The idea was there, but the energy wasn't. I got my wallet, my checkbook and my pistol. Went out and started to get in the jeep, then saw that a shake had come off the end of the barn roof. I said to myself "I'll just fix that, then I'll go." But I had to trim some holly tree branches to get up there. Holly is God's barbed wire. The wood is tough and the leaves will cut you up good. Then I found more shakes missing. So what was going to be a ten minute job turned into over an hour. I finished up tired, dirty and sweaty.
It can wait until tomorrow.
I talked with my youngest brother today, haven't been in contact with him in awhile. He's doing well, but is about to be blessed with the annual week long visit of my Uncle and his pal. My brother will be taking them salmon fishing off the coast of Oregon. My brother is even less of a people person than I am and it's a strain, but it's family so he does it.
This picture was taken only seconds before the famous (within our family) fist fight in a bar in Nieuport, in which he pulverized two young men who made the mistake of thinking he was just another old man who could be sassed with impunity. He got kicked out of the bar for life, but as far as I can tell was not much dismayed by the banishment. My brother is a former Marine officer, and a retired cop. Like me, he was born out of his time , but his time would have been that of Attila and the Huns. Or maybe Genghis and the Mongols. Least anyone think him a bully, what started the problem was foul language in the bar, with ladies present. He asked those guys nicely to shut up. Once.
Still no contact with my middle brother, who like Achilles has retired to his tent and is busily pouting. It had something to do with my youngest brother getting him tickets to an Oregon State Game, but not going to the game with him. One thing led to another. None of us have won awards for temper control. I hope it works itself out though, because my middle brother is arrogant, cynical and condescending but other than that he's a nice guy. Nobody is perfect
When I was in the Marines, I traveled to , worked in, or lived in thirty six countries. I have literally sailed the seven seas, didn't miss one. I went to some real hell holes, and never felt the need to do so again once I settled up here.
But my two brothers have traveled all over Central and South America, and Mexico. Twice they took old, clapped out steamers down the Amazon river. My youngest brother lived in an Amazon village with the natives (can I still say that, must I say indigenous people?). He carried a bag of old t shirts and walking shorts to get in good with them. They went to places most people would have paid a lot of money to stay away from. They reminded me of characters in a Franz Kafka novel.
Of course, they went to some nice places, too. My brother has a condo in Mazatlan, it is right next to the condo where one of the most wanted cartel bosses in Mexico was arrested a year or so ago.
That kind of thing doesn't seem to bother either of them.
I might do the tourist resort thing but I would not want to go into the back country or up some backwater.
At any rate, my middle brother has had health problems for the last year, and maybe the good old days of living like a character in an F. Scott Fitzgerald story are over. Maybe that's why he is so mad about something so trivial.
Well, I suppose time will tell. It would be a shame to finish out not talking to each other, for no reason. I wasn't even at the ball game, or involved in it in any way, but that's how it goes.