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Post by gipsy on Dec 11, 2023 12:08:26 GMT -6
Fine update. Thanks
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Post by ydderf on Dec 11, 2023 12:25:50 GMT -6
ncsfsgm Thank you
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Post by feralferret on Dec 11, 2023 18:51:42 GMT -6
Thanks, ncsfsgm! Looks like Sean's MAG is coming right along.
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Post by ncsfsgm on Dec 27, 2023 14:59:47 GMT -6
Chapter 23
After Fala sat down with Seán at the computer, they went through the products list on the Emergency Essentials website. Seán explained about the shelf lives of the products and Fala became more interested and keyed in on the fruits. They ordered fruits, butter powder, powdered milk, buttermilk powder, flour, baking powder, cornmeal, and powdered sour cream. Seán’s belief was that you could make most things better with sour cream, especially chili, which Fala had prepared a pot of beans to soak to make a big pot of chili the next day.
Emmit watched as the movers loaded the last things from the house into the moving van and prepared to go to the warehouse. They would leave out in the morning to be there before Emmit arrived. Emmit would lead a convoy out in the morning. Everything was already loaded on the convoy trucks; the vehicles were fueled up and they should be in Crumpler by early afternoon. Emmit called Seán and updated him on the timeline. Sean had a set of keys for the place so he would go down and unlock the house for the movers to carry the household items in. Seán was going to put Fala in charge of the house for the initial placement of the furniture.
The next morning, Seán and Fala were up early. Fala had changed the water in the bean pot before they went to bed the night before and again drained it when she got up. She added the spices, onions, garlic, and venison to the beans and set the pot to simmer. Catori was coming down later to watch the chili and to make cornbread to eat with it for lunch. Doc was going over to Emmit’s also, to bring the tractor on a trailer with the pallet forks attached. The construction workers at Doc’s house were just laying joists and stringers on the first floor so Doc had no real interest in that right now. He would catch up on the construction when he got back. Seán was just unlocking the house when the moving van pulled in. he quickly flipped the circuit switches bringing the power on. Fala began directing the placement of the furniture as each piece was unwrapped in the yard. Toward noon, Doc and Catori arrived bearing the huge pot of chili, and three cakes of cornbread, baked in cast iron fry pans. Doc set the pot of chili on the stove and put the burner on low to keep the chili warm. The cornbread had been wrapped in foil and was placed in the oven to keep it warm. Emmit’s convoy arrived, Doc got the tractor and offloaded pallets of boxed parts with Emmit directing their placement. He had them bring in his current project vehicles into certain bays and had Sean’s finished M151 parked in the parking area. Future project vehicles were parked in the back of the garage building, out of sight. They took a break and ate chili when the last truck was unloaded.
“It’s a good thing you guys have decided to head back this afternoon,” Emmit said. “You all would be stinking up my house. Better ride with your windows down!”
Everyone laughed. When they finished eating, Emmit paid and tipped the drivers, then gave them money for refueling their trucks for the trip back.
Fala, Catori, and Seán cleaned up the dishes and stored the leftover chili in the fridge. Emmit had gone out to the garage with Doc and was starting to put things in their places. While Catori and Fala made Emmit’s bed, Seán went out and helped Emmit and Doc.
“Damn Emmit! How much crap do you have?” Seán asked.
“I prefer to call them unrecognized treasures.” Emmit replied. “I’m going to have to re-catalog everything, so I know what’s where. It’s going to take me a month to sort through all this stuff. I want to get one of those hydraulic cargo scissor lifts to reach the tops of the highest shelves.”
“I’ll check around and see what’s available,” Sean said. “Might find something in the tri-cities area.”
Fala and Catori came out and were ready to go home. They all said their goodbyes and headed back to the Bend.
Emmit soon quit doing anything more. He needed to put shelving markings on the shelves and put a logical location plan together. He was going to be at this location a long time and wanted to set things up right. The next morning, Seán made coffee when he got up and was sitting on the porch when Fala came from the bedroom. She poured a cup of coffee and joined Seán on the porch.
“Good morning.” Seán said.
“And good morning to you. Here, put this on your tactical vest,” Fala said. Fala handed Seán a small rectangular parfleche, sewn together with sinew, dyed, and decorated in woodland subdued colors to match his plate carrier, with straps to attach it to the Molle attachment points.
“What is this?” Seán asked.
“Clippings of the nails of the Tsul'kalu' to protect you from evil, sacred roots, and flowers to protect you from sickness, and a strand of my hair to always lead you back to me,” Fala said.
Seán nodded and tucked the soft parfleche into his shirt pocket.
“What’s your plan for today?” Fala asked.
“I’ll start looking for a scissors lift for Emmit.” Seán replied. “He needs a way to lift those parts up to the highest shelves before he can start putting things away. I’ll head up to Bristol and see what I can find. Sometimes those rental places sell used equipment. There are at least two equipment rental places in Bristol and a ton of warehousing. Do you want to go with me?”
“No, I have to make some calls. Emmit asked me to find him a housekeeper.”
“Do you have any ideas?” Seán asked.
Fala gave him an enigmatic smirk and said,” I’ve got an idea.”
Seán dropped it right there.
He hooked up the other equipment trailer and headed to Grassy Creek to pick up NC-16 and stopped at the State Line and got a bottled Coke and a couple of packs of Virginia Red-skin peanuts to munch on his way. Traffic was light, even when he reached I-81 and thankfully, no accidents on the interstate. It was an easy trip to Bristol. He stopped to get fuel and to make time to search for an equipment rental place. Finally finding a couple, he headed for the nearest one. They didn’t have any at that location, but they had another location over near Cumberland Square Park that they had just gotten back from a distribution center. It didn’t raise quite high enough for the storage racks they had. Seán headed there to check it out. The owner of the franchise had an office there and Seán met with him.
“I’m not going to buffalo you,” Mr. Matthews said, “There is nothing wrong with this lift. It just wasn’t tall enough and because of the tire weight, wasn’t stable enough. I brought this one back and replaced it with what they needed. For what do you need a lift?”
Sean explained its intended use and the height it would need to go in Emmit’s garage.
“Well, I think this one would suit you just fine,” Mr. Matthews said. “you can even lift a whole engine and store it with this lift. I can have my guys service the propane engine if you want it.”
Sean looked the lift over and as far he could tell it was almost new. They dickered over the price and came to an agreement. While they were handling the paperwork, mechanics took the lift and changed the engine oil, hydraulic fluids, and checked all the hoses. They loaded the lift on the trailer and chained it down for him. With final handshakes, Seán headed to Emmit’s place.
Emmit was tickled pink over the lift. He wrote Seán a check for the lift and began practicing placing the first box of seldom needed parts on a high shelf and entered the information into his computer. Each shelf was numbered, and each box was lettered to easily find the part wanted. An inventory list was taped to the box with the contents and if a part was removed, you just check the box to indicate it had been removed. That was sort of a backstop in case the inventory database was inaccurate. Emmit had been sorting the boxes out and had them ready to put into place, so Sean stayed a while and helped him. He would load several boxes and Emmit would take them up on the lift. Sean would enter the location on the computer and when Emmit lowered the lift, he would load more boxes. They were halfway done when Fala showed up.
“I found a housekeeper for you, but there is a problem,” Fala said. “She doesn’t live close to here and will need a place to stay.”
“Does she cook?” Emmit asked.
“Almost as good as Seán,” Fala replied.
“Well, I don’t think it will be much of a problem unless she thinks it would be too forward to stay in one of the extra bedrooms.” Emmit said. “And I’ll pay her extra for the cooking.”
Fala smiled. “I don’t think she will have a problem with that.”
“Why don’t you two go on home. I’ve got this now.” Emmit said. Seán followed Fala back to the Bend. While they were putting supper together, Seán asked, “Just how old is this new housekeeper and cook?”
“About three or four years younger than Emmit.” Fala answered.
“And who is she?” Seán asked.
“Sue Barkins. She’s my second cousin. She’s driving up tomorrow.” Fala replied.
“So, you set him up?”
“No, I just gathered the elements together. It is up to them if they want anything to happen.” Fala smiled sweetly.
“You set him up.” Sean said resignedly. “I guess we’ll have to see what happens.”
After supper they sat and watched national news for a while. College students were again rioting over crap they had little to no knowledge about.
“Why are they doing that?” Fala asked.
“They’ve been lied to, weren’t taught history, the obfuscating trash of mainstream media; the slogans, mantras, and beliefs that have been embedded into the collective American consciousness by a media obsessed with sensationalism, rather than fact, gaslighting politicians, Marxist educators, there are a number of things.” Seán explained.
It is said that you can lead a horse to water, but you cannot make him drink. It’s more like that you can lead a student to knowledge, but you cannot make him think. Students must choose to want to think, learn and understand and an instructor should focus upon methods that encourage them to do so. Formidable exams, in of themselves, do not encourage students to think, learn or understand; they DO encourage (at least some) students to expend a lot of unfocused effort to somehow survive awesome exams. This is why the trash cans in the halls of many institutions are seen to be filled with discarded flash/note cards. Someone who is eager to learn has no need for flash cards. If a student really cares about a subject, they will research farther than what the teacher tries to drill into them. Students these days are too lazy to do that, which doesn’t bode well for this country’s future.
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Post by gipsy on Dec 27, 2023 15:38:33 GMT -6
Fine update. That girl better not drink the water or she is a goner.
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Post by CountryGuy on Dec 27, 2023 16:51:11 GMT -6
Part of the problem in our higher education systems also is that students are required to take garbage courses under the guise that it is helping to make them 'well rounded." Horse shit! It only ensures professors with useless degrees and leftist ideologies are employed for stupid sums of money to dumb down our students and spread their drivel and ensures students spend more money than they should need to.
When I went to school, if I could have cut out the crap that meant nothing to the core engineering study I could have done one of two things: A) graduated in only 3 years or B) stayed the 4 but taken additional or more advanced core classes or side interests I wasn't able to because of having to take stupid crap like an art, or a human development and family studies or a Soc course that was on the music and movies of the 60's. Yep, I got so much value from those classes (read extreme sarcasm there).
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Post by gipsy on Dec 27, 2023 17:58:49 GMT -6
I got classical music
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Post by ydderf on Dec 27, 2023 22:12:06 GMT -6
Thanks
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Post by cashless1 on Dec 27, 2023 22:52:56 GMT -6
I didn't go I got a job instead, and it worked out ok.
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Post by feralferret on Dec 28, 2023 1:46:05 GMT -6
Thanks, ncsfsgm.
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Post by gipsy on Dec 28, 2023 8:05:35 GMT -6
I went at night While working my second job after retiring from the navy and still had the junk courses to get my degree.
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Post by iamnobody on Dec 28, 2023 8:47:53 GMT -6
I went to the SoHK.
I have several degrees from it and am still taking courses. Hopefully I will be smart enough to keep learning for the rest of my life.
SoHK = School of Hard Knocks
I used that term back when I was foolish enough to be on the internet dating sites. Women would be bragging they have 4-6 years of college and a degree or 2 in some useless liberal arts degree and considered themselves so much higher than people because of it. But they didn't even have enough sense to know when the manure on the plate in front of them wasn't steak and lobster like they were told it is.
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Post by CountryGuy on Dec 28, 2023 9:43:29 GMT -6
I did the college thing after my time in the Navy and used my GI Bill. I'll say this, for as much crap as the kids get, a lot of their parents should get a good portion of the blame. One of the "work study" things I did in school as part of my financial aid package was that I worked in the lab. I'd work on the machines and molds and do some basic maintenance, run various things being done for research and also, on open house weekends, I'd help give tours to the families that were interested in the program. It was a competitive program. only about 20% who applied got into it and then there was about a 40-50% wash out rate. In our program your core classes started your freshman year, so it wasn't a lot of BS classes the first 4 semesters. On those tours I'd see the parents eyes gloss over when we'd tell them the program had 100% placement on graduation for those who wanted a job and that at the time it also had the highest avg starting salary of any undergrad degree in the PSU system. At that point their ears and minds shut off. They didn't listen to the part where we said only 20-30% that applied got in, that it was one of the most intense 4 year programs the university had and required extreme level of commitment and work ethic to get thru and that there was about a 50% wash out with students changing majors before they got much past the 2 year mark or they just quit school.
The parents didn't want to listen, nor face reality that little Johnny or Suzy who could barely pass high school Algebra and chemistry wasn't going to get in so why waste the time applying. Then there were the parents whose kids did have the grades to get in, but they had no interest in engineering much less the field. So they end up starting, then changing majors and then often needing to take more classes as those they had taken didn't apply to their new major so they would then go 5 or 6 years to get a degree that should have cost them 4. Or lots of parents pushing their kids into college and a major when the kid didn't have a clue. Hell let them take a year off and have to get a job, maybe that will help show them they want to go to school or that they don't. but this country has for decades sold the story that you have to go to college to get ahead. it wasn't the kids selling that line, it was their parents. and now everyone wants to blame all these kids that only look to college.
My oldest just graduated weekend before last and she was out in 5 semesters. Now to do that she took summer classes both years and she'd also used a program her sr year in high school (remote covid year) where she took classes thru the local state school. Initially those credits were useless to her at her college until she changed her mind on the program she was doing at the start of her third semester. She opted to not do the doctoral portion (was a 5 yr program for Dr of Physical Therapy) but her undergrad stayed the same. When she dropped the DPT, the same school was like, oh...now we'll take all those credits.
Her sister is a Sr, doing the same college program though the high school and ensuring she's also only taking gen eds with the understanding they likely will be worthless and not transfer for her in college. She's doing it in order to maintain her GPA and class standing as she's on track to be valedictorian. She's looking at some Ivy league schools and some other high end engineering schools so I've warned her she needs very big scholarships or those won't be happening. Her sister, with only 5 semesters and who had a 50% merit scholarship now owes right around $80K and that wasn't any high end/ ivy league school. I told both of them, know what the degree and job is worth to know if the ROI is worth it. Don't be one of these kids that get $100K in debt to get a degree in something like sociology that then only gets them a job paying $34K a year. Bad ROI when they can go out with only a high school diploma and get a job at a plant like I work at, starting at $19/hr with benefits. That about equivalent to a salary of $38K per year without having $100K school loan debt.
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Post by gipsy on Dec 28, 2023 14:23:03 GMT -6
Mine was on the GI bill also
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Post by ncsfsgm on Jan 27, 2024 13:34:56 GMT -6
Chapter 24
Sue arrived early in the afternoon the next day. She would be staying at the Bend overnight before going to Crumpler the next morning. Seán went to Emmit’s early to help finish getting things stored in the garage, and to take down a year’s worth of food for three that he was selling to Emmit. Emmit was going to pay Seán for the food according to current prices. Fala had taken an inventory and was going to West Jefferson with Sue to pick up fresher foods before they showed up at Emmit’s house.
"Storm's coming," Emmit said, looking toward the angry clouds approaching from the west of Crumpler. He got off the forklift and started closing the garage doors. Seán finished the last entry in the database and closed the last door.
“I figured Fala and the housekeeper would be here by now.” Emmit said.
“She and Sue were going to the grocery and get fresh food for you; eggs, milk, and such.” Seán explained.
“Oh, okay.”
They both grabbed brooms and swept out the shop then headed to the house, just before the rain hit. Emmit poured them some of the whiskey he had traded Seán for and they sat talking.
“It’s good to be back near you guys,” Emmit said.
“Yeah, it’s going to be good having you and Doc near,” Seán replied.
“What do you think is going to happen in the future?” Emmit asked.
“Who knows? It could be economic collapse, a non-treatable pandemic, terrorists….hard to say,” Seán replied.
“Terrorists?!”
“You don’t think all those military age men with no families sneaking across the border have come here to make their fortunes and find low IQ, longhaired dictionaries, do you?” Seán asked.
“Hmmm, you think Iran is behind it?” Emmit asked.
“Could be, but just about every Muslim state wants us taken down because of Israel.”
“Or it could be a Red Flag. Who knows what those idiots in Washington are cooking up.” Emmit said.
“The problem is they are as ideological as the Muslim terrorists. They want to get rid of conservatives as bad as Muslims want to kill all of us,” Seán replied.
“Do you think they would target anything up here?” Emmit asked.
“I doubt it, unless there was a big venue,” Seán said. “Remember what happened in Israel. The Muslims used asymmetrical warfare, hitting the Israelis where they were weak. If the terrorists have infiltrated, they’ll set up cells all over the country and go after civilian tangos to spread fear. Probably mostly in the bigger cities. I feel we are fairly safe up here…no big targets. However, if they keep letting those Chinese fly balloons over the country, that could be a problem. Whatever happens, we just need to lay low in these mountains playing ground hog until we have a clear picture. The big thing is when the stinky stuff hits the fan, the supply chain is going to go down. You’d better get to ordering and buying enough goods to last you several years and start quickly.”
“Is that why you decided to come back here, what were you really looking for?” Emmit asked.
“I don’t know. I guess deep inside, I wanted things to be as they were intended.” Sean replied. “Look what we have now. A Congress, President, Attorney General, Secretaries of State, Homeland Security, Transportation, Treasury, Health and Human Services, Education, Energy, EPA, and even Defense, who knowingly bend the truth, make false statements about where they get their money, what they are doing, what they are not doing, and just walk away, as if the government was invented for their manipulation.
The problem this country has now is that too many in power in the West were too soft to make the case for victory to the end of the Marxist caucus in their countries. This is especially true in America, where Hamas supporters were prominent members of Congress and embedded deep within the bureaucracy. The world saw it as a weakness. Hell, half of Congress and their donors are making money or taking bribes from China. No one seems to consider them enemies. We’ve got intelligence agencies who should be drawing up target lists instead of trying to overturn elections.
This country doesn’t need more fakeness, no more artificial intelligence, simulated foods, counterfeit brands, manipulated news, Photoshopped blogs, or robotic dogs. No more untested vaccines, non-GMO beans, Orwellian words, misapplied pronouns, men in girls’ swimsuits and gowns, invented genders, drug vendors, robocalls, function gains, or algorithmic political campaigns. We want authenticity. This country needs leaders, sometimes even neighbors, to get real.
I’d like people to be able to ‘say it like it is,’ be who you say you are, ‘man up,’ and be eager to be held accountable. I’d like to see people in leadership who take responsibility for their actions, are other-regarding, service-oriented, magnanimous in victory, honest in their errors, and able to be real politically and personally. I almost wish something would happen. Maybe we could rebuild under the tenants of our founding fathers, with some changes.
You need to understand that the government's purpose into not solving problems. It is to accumulate power and money for those operating its levers, and that means perpetuating problems. I have to assume that whatever government-led response that would come after an emergency will take us further down the road to socialism or just impoverished anarchy.”
Fala and Sue arrived and parked under the attached carport. It was raining cats and dogs, so the men went out to help them bring the groceries in from their run to West Jefferson. Sue had arrived at the Bend early in the afternoon, and she and Fala had taken time to fry some chicken and made potato salad and a garden salad. Once the groceries were in, the women put them away and set the table for two for supper. Fala made excuses for her and Seán to leave so Emmit and Sue could have supper together and get acquainted.
“What did you think of Sue?” Fala asked as they drove back to the Bend.
“I didn’t have that much interaction with her, but she seems nice enough,” Seán replied.
“She really needs the job,” Fala said. “She’s spent practically her whole life taking care of her father, but now that he has passed, has nothing to really do. Oh, she helps me out once in a while, but I really didn’t have that much for her to do. She needs a purpose in life.”
“What about her mother?” Seán asked.
“She passed when Sue was young. A drunk on a winding mountain road swept her out of their lives. Sue’s father was devastated and never really recovered from it.” Fala said.
While Sue and Emmit ate, They filled each other in on their histories. When they finished, Sue sent him into the den, and she cleaned up the kitchen. Emmit spent time hooking up the TV and re-started his DIRECTV. He reprogrammed his remote and channels to those he could receive and finally Sue joined him.
“Can you drive a manual transmission?” Emmit asked Sue.
“Yes, my father had a pickup with a manual transmission,” Sue replied.
Emmit handed her the keys to the 1967 International Harvester Scout 800 he had restored, but never sold, because he wanted to install a CD changer in it and had other priorities at the time.
“Here, drive this. It’s 4x4 and hopefully will work for you in the winter around here.” Emmit said.
Emmit also gave her a debit card for her to pick up food and cleaning supplies as needed.
“Emmit, I couldn’t really…”
“Nonsense!" Emmit said. “Look, I’m going to be busy working in the shop. If you need something I want you to have the freedom and ability to get it. Once I’m established, I’ll have even less time to deal with things at home and I’d like you to take care of things without having to come to me each time.”
Sue acquiesced and nothing more was ever said.
Doc was busy with getting his house finished. The logs went up quickly and it took only three days to get the roof on. The general contractor was getting little rest directing the sub-contractors arriving and leaving by the hour. The deck crew had all the posts and pilings in and had started laying composite decking and were about 1/3 finished. They were targeting to get everything done before the snows came, and it looked like it would be close. But the General Contractor was good and had picked good companies and crews.
Because of the slope of the land, Doc had a banked 40’x80’ garage built. But in this case the foundation wasn’t really dug into the slope very much, only leveled enough to build four 20’20’ concrete walled rooms on the lower slope with an extended floor poured for parking of equipment and vehicles. The upper floor had two garage bays with poured floors, which served as part of the ceilings in the concrete rooms and a wooden floored shop on the other upper half of the building. Dehumidifiers were running in the concrete rooms to finish drying out the concrete.
When Seán and Fala returned to the house, they rode the Gator up to Doc’s place to see how far along the building was. Doc was with the deck builders, cutting boards to length for them. Another group was installing glass in the windows around one side of the house. Doc looked up from the saw and smiled.
“Won’t be long now!” Doc said, grinning. “Catori and I have been picking out furniture and have it stored at a moving and storage company. The oak flooring is being installed Monday and we can start getting the major appliances brought in.”
Fala went inside to meet up with Catori who was doing some spot painting with the painters.
Seán and Doc walked over to the bank garage and Doc explained what he was going to do with the space.
When Seán and Fala got back to the house, Fala told Seán what Catori had told her and Seán sat down and ordered three 1-year family food units as part of their wedding presents.
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Post by gipsy on Jan 27, 2024 15:40:27 GMT -6
Thanks for the fine update.
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Post by feralferret on Jan 27, 2024 17:44:45 GMT -6
Ncsfsgm, thank you!
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Post by ncsfsgm on Feb 11, 2024 3:16:22 GMT -6
Chapter 25
Emmit found a sign painter and put up a sign by the road advertising his auto repair and restoration business. He also got permission to put up a sign near the post office pointing the way to Emmit’s Auto Repair. He found two pickups locally he could restore and have ready to sell with little effort. On one of them there was a rusted hole in the left rear wheel well which was the worst of the repairs. He also had his eye on a 1929 Ford Roadster Pickup sitting in a barn two miles from his shop he was willing to pay $12,000 for.
Sue had Emmit’s house arranged to his liking and Emmit was eating better than he had in years. In deference to Sue, Emmit had installed a door lock and deadbolt on her bedroom door, but unknown to him, she hadn’t locked either of them when she went to bed at night. Used to Hormel chili and rice, or Hamburger or tuna helper as a main meal, he was going to have to watch his waist. She was a damn good cook! He quickly picked up business for small repairs which were quickly turned around. The word began to spread, and he even got requests for tractor repairs. Seán decided to head down to Emmit’s and see how he was doing. Fala went with him to visit with Sue. Seán admired Emmit’s new sign as they drove in and parked next to the house. When he walked into the garage, Emmit was welding a patch on a wheel well of an old truck.
“What’s going on brother?” Seán called out.
Emmit completed the welding and flipped up his visor. “Hey, how’s it going?”
“Good, just checking on you.” Seán replied.
“Everything’s going really well. Almost got more work than I can do. I’m thinking on taking on some help, even if it’s no more than an apprentice.”
“Sounds good.” Seán said.
“Yeah and working on the engines gives me a lot of time to think. If those balloons the Chinese are sending over are carrying bio agents, the sickness could affect 60-80% of the population of this county and the surrounding counties, maybe more in the more densely populated areas. That includes the Police, Sheriff’s Departments, fire departments and everyone else the citizens normally relied on to protect them. The only thing that stands between us and death from starvation, attack, or worse are the supplies we stockpile. I’m willing to be part of the defense of this area, since we’re kind of spread out, or you might be busy fighting the rest of the Mutant Zombie Biker horde off. Civilization as we know may be gone, maybe for good. Things can quickly revert to the law of the jungle, and unless people have enough firepower to fight off any attacker, and the will to use it, they might as well kill themselves and save the wait. I don’t THINK I have to teach you and Doc how to defend yourself and survive, but the locals will have to pull the trigger when they have to and could save the lives of someone they’re trying to protect."
“Looks to me like you need to hold an organization meeting with your neighbors, to form security and auxiliary groups.” Seán said. “Looks like you are getting prepared," pointing to a Thompson M1A1 mounted on the wall next to a workbench.
“Go ahead,” Emmit said, “Take it down and check it out.”
Sean reached up and tugged on the gun. It looked like it was bolted to the wall. Emmit grinned, reached up and grabbed the machine gun, then pulled down on a pegboard hook on the pegboard above the workbench. The Thompson came down into his hand. Emmit handed the gun to Seán.
“A 20-round stick won’t last you long.” Seán commented.
Emmit slid opened the top left drawer of the tool cabinet and there lay two 50-round drum magazines. “I place my shots accurately.”
Seán looked at the gun. On the stock and fore grip were two screws that made the gun look like it was screwed to the wall for display. Emmit had fabricated a concealed latching mechanism that locked onto the two studs on the other side of the gun and unlatched by the pegboard hook.
“Nice,” Seán said.
As soon as I sell these two pickups, I can buy a couple of more food units.” Emmit said.
“Do it as soon as you can. No telling how much time we have.” Seán replied.
Kayakers had all but disappeared from the river. It had been an active summer on the river with tourists, but Seán had caught enough trout to have a good supply of smoked fish. The 30-pound yield from the traps had given them enough crayfish to make a lot of Jambalaya. Fala had another delicious dish she used crayfish in also.
Emmit purchased a short-wave radio that kept them in contact without using the phones.
Seán sat quietly and watched the blandly produced town hall the President had held in Ohio and the banner was flashing the phone numbers for donations and suggestions for the President to consider. Seppuku wouldn’t be outside the range of suggestions Seán could give.
There had been a substantial increase in violence between inhabitants of the cities that was helping to give the incumbents bad ratings. The President had no answers or those he had were incoherent.
Things were about to get real, real fast.
Seán finally grew tired of the political B.S. and he and Fala went to bed.
Sean gasped and sat straight up in the bed, sweat running down his face. He glanced at the clock, it was already 5:30. Grumbling, he started to rise and reached over to flip on the lamp, then stopped himself. He didn’t want to wake Fala.
"You okay Seán?" she asked. "Another nightmare?"
Seán lowered his head, not wanting to concern her. She was like him in so many ways but was also vastly different. Sometimes it was hard to believe they had bonded this well. Somehow she always knew when he was upset. It was pretty creepy at times. She was the yin to his yang.
“Seán?”
He glanced over at her. She was staring at him with a concerned look on her face, her hand rubbing his shoulder.
"Yeah, sorry. I'm fine. Another nightmare," he confirmed, finally shaken from his trance. More politicians were caught with their hands in the till. Most got off with little consequence and conditions in the country deteriorated. However, integrity once sold is impossible to regain.
The dream, or at least, parts of it, continued to echo through Seán’s mind.
The sound of shots woke Seán. He quickly threw on his clothes, grabbed his tactical vest and helmet with NVGs and headed out the door. He reached into a vest pocket and pulled out the suppressor, then screwed it onto the barrel of the Galil. He studied the sounds of the shots and moved forward to where he knew the intruders had probably come up.
“You’ll never leave Harland alive…” echoed in Seán’s mind. Seán checked his tactical gear for the umpteenth time and laid it on his bed. Going into the attic, he searched and finally found a wall-mounted coat rack that the hooks were made out of reclaimed railroad spikes. He bolted it to the wall next to his bedroom door with lag bolts and hung his tactical gear there. Another thing off his mind. He could hang everything, including his GAU-5/P. He was a little more prepared.
Fala paid attention to what he was doing and began keeping a Judge Home Defender in the drawer to the left of the knife drawer in the kitchen.
Emmit came over Saturday to check out the Ford COE in Seán’s barn.
He changed out the glow plug, flushed the fuel tanks, and changed the oils. Soon, the truck was running almost like the day it was purchased. Emmit borrowed the truck to haul drums of lubricants and coolant from Jefferson to his shop.
Seán, Fala, and Sue helped Doc and Catori shift furniture around and prepare the new house. Doc borrowed Emmit’s equipment hauler trailer and truck to go pick up some equipment in Sparta for his place. He’d bought a used compact tractor with a bush hog, plow, disc, rotary tiller and harrow attachments, and a mower deck from one of the managers at Parker Building Supply. He went back later and purchased a 7’x12’ flat trailer for hauling. Everything fit well in the parking area on the lower side of the garage. While Doc was getting the equipment, Seán spent the day storing the LTS foods in the concrete rooms under the bank garage, inventorying everything on pre-made forms on a clipboard. Catori had a venison stew and flatbread ready for them when they finally stopped working for the day.
Seán and Fala were tired and after supper they went back home. Seán made drinks and they sat and watched some late news before going to bed. It was disgusting. Seán was beginning to believe the Democrats were nothing more than enablers of the coming of the anti-Christ. They were some evil people. If they couldn’t win fair and square, they cheated to the detriment of a lot of innocent people. The cases they had in court now against a former president were out of pure hatred of the man. Election interference wasn’t incidental to his persecution, it was the entire point of the cases. Seán figured they were doing it out of fear of the man. If he had been the man, Seán would be preparing to extract some retribution. Emmit was able to quickly sell the two pickup trucks. They weren’t pretty, but the people who were buying them didn’t need pretty, just dependable. He made enough off of them to buy the Ford Roadster Pickup and add some serious amounts of prep supplies. He already had a buyer for the Roadster in Cary. The buyer just wanted the truck in good mechanical condition, and he would finish the restoration himself. He was beginning the engine tear-down in a day or two.
Doc had another fuel tank put in and contacted AmeriGas for getting a couple of more propane tanks installed. He ordered enough LTS food to bring his stocks up for enough to feed three people for five years. It was a start. Doc was proud of his new home. The next thing he wanted to get started on was a fire pit in the yard.
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Post by gipsy on Feb 11, 2024 9:49:15 GMT -6
A fine update. Thanks
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Post by ncsfsgm on Feb 23, 2024 4:22:25 GMT -6
Chapter 26
It was a couple of days before Doc was able to get to the landscaping business he had spotted on the way to dinner a couple of nights before. He had noticed pallets of rock for landscaping for sale. He was most interested in the flat stone to place on the ground around his new fire pit. Doc pulled out his pocketknife and scraped the surface of the top 2” thick stone and bent down to sniff it. Just as he thought, it was Oil Shale. The closest possible oil shale deposits were up in Kentucky, about 100 miles, as a crow flies. Doc saw a small piece of the stone had broken off and he pulled out his lighter and tried to light the small piece of stone. It wouldn’t burn, so the stone should be safe enough to use as a small patio around the pit. Doc bought four pallets of the stone, a gazebo kit, a Stone round fire pit kit, and hauled everything back to his place.
Seán received another shipment of food pails and ammo from a couple of different suppliers and was busy getting it stored in the cellar cave system, when Doc called about a little help the next afternoon to set the flat stones. Seán said he would be there and carried the last cases of ammo down and secured the doors. Doc used the tractor with landscape blade to level out the area, finishing with a rake and shovel. The next morning, after tamping down the area, he spread sand and raked it back level again.
With Seán’s help and the occasional glass of cold cider Catori brought to them, they were able to get the oil shale flagstones laid and sanded. They had the gazebo frame centered and partially finished before they quit for the evening. Fala and Catori had supper ready for them after they washed up. The country fried steak hit the spot.
The two men stopped and watched the house for a while. When they saw the man get in the Gator and go up the hill, they slowly moved to the house and silently went up on the porch. The door wasn’t unlocked so the two young men opened it slowly and went in. They froze when they heard the rack of a shotgun.
“Ma? It’s us, Billy and Pauly.” Billy said.
“Oh my God! How did you get here?” Maggie asked. “I could have killed you!”
Maggie grabbed the radio and began speaking into it. “Grady! Get back to the house! The boys are home!”
Shatley Springs Inn and Restaurant had new owners and was closed for renovations. On checking the outbuildings, they found a 1947 Ford panel truck and asked Emmit to restore it. This stopped Emmit’s work on his old Ford pickup, so he finished rebuilding the engine and set the pickup aside. The major work on the panel truck would be the engine and transmission. The body was in excellent condition and would just need some sanding and painting. Emmit had picked up another mechanic from over near Helton and a body guy from around Sturgis. The body guy, Henry, began working on the body of the truck after Emmit and Jake dropped the engine and transmission.
Grady’s Gator slid to a stop by the steps. When he got into the house, his sons were sitting at the kitchen table gobbling down sandwiches Maggie had made for them. “You boys break out?” Grady asked.
“No pa, they just up and let us go, at least those of us that didn’t have really serious crimes. Said they couldn’t afford to feed us. They just gave us a couple of cans of beans a piece, and a blanket each,” Billy said.
“How’d you two get here?” Grady asked.
“We walked purtin near the whole way” Pauly said. “We did get a ride with a guy headed for Grassy Creek but got out when we were near the north fork of the river. We’ve been cutting across country some and paralleling the river some to get here.”
“Why didn’t you call us? We’d have gladly come down and gotten you." Grady asked.
“How? No phones. ‘Sides, we didn’t want to cause you any more trouble. We got ourselves into that mess and we figured we could get ourselves home.” Billy replied.
“Well, you boys get cleaned up and rest. Work starts tomorrow.”
Seán was sitting on the porch navel gazing and drinking three fingers of scotch. Seán was thinking the USA was turning into a third world country when Grady drove up. Seán peaked from under the bill of his cap and watched Grady come up onto the porch.
“Billy and Pauly are back.” Grady said.
Seán sat up straighter. “What?”
“They just got back, walked a good bit of the way from Marion. Says the Department of Corrections was setting those with less serious violations loose because they couldn’t get the food to feed everyone.”
“Crap! That means DOC will end up eventually letting some bad characters loose.” Seán said.
“That’s my thinking too.” Grady replied.
“Come with me to the basement.” Seán said.
Sean opened a large gun safe and took out two BCM AR-15s with optics and eighteen 30-round magazines. He opened the ammo safe and took out two cans of 5.56x45 ammo.
“Have the guys come up and I can outfit them with vests and chicken plates.”
“Seán the boys are not supposed to be around guns.” Grady said.
“When was the last time you even saw a cop near here? In case of self-defense, it won’t make a bit of difference anyway.” Seán replied. “We just need them for security.”
“Okay,” Grady said, nodding.
Seán got up, quietly gathered his clothes, and moved to the bathroom to shower. The warm water felt good. After bathing and shaving, he grabbed his towel and pushed the faucet off, stepping out of the stall and rubbing the water off. After dressing, he headed to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. Seán built up the fire in the wood cookstove and pulled the roll of cinnamon roll dough he and Fala made the night before and cut off four rolls, placed them on a cookie sheet to let them rise while the stove was building up heat. When the coffee had perked, Seán poured a mug and took a swig of black coffee that would put hair on a doorknob. After checking the oven temperature, Seán carried his mug out on the porch to check the early morning out. It was cold, high 20s to low 30s. He stood at the top of the steps and let his eyes roam. Frost was heavy on the old pasture between the house and the river. A light fog hovered over the river. Seán tossed his cooled coffee into the yard, then he went back in, meeting Fala dressed in a thick robe going into the kitchen.
Verifying the oven temperature, Seán slid the rose rolls into the oven, refilled his mug and poured Fala one. Fala took a sip, scrunched up her face and added milk, honey, and a bit of hot water to her mug.
“That coffee could put hair on my tongue!” Fala complained.
Seán grinned and wiggled his eyebrows up and down.
“You wish, lover boy!” Fala retorted. “You’ve corrupted me enough with your white man ways.”
Seán retrieved the container of cream cheese icing from the refrigerator (made with powdered cream cheese) and sat it on the table. He looked at the timer and saw there was a couple of minutes to go so he poured himself a glass of milk and placed it at his normal place at the table. Generally, he didn’t like powdered milk but found if you mixed a little butter powder with it, it didn’t taste bad at all. The timer buzzed and he took the sheet of rolls and placed them on a couple of cast iron trivets on the table. Fala opened the container of icing and using a butter knife, spread the icing on the rolls. As they waited for the icing to melt a bit, Fala turned on the World Band radio and tuned to the clearest station, KFAB out of Omaha, Nebraska. They were reporting blizzard conditions and travel warnings.
“That could be here in two or three days, depending on the jet stream.” Seán said.
“We should get ready.” Fala said.
Seán glanced over at the weather station and saw no indication in a drop of barometric pressure.
“Nothing right now. Just check the pantry and if there’s anything we need from the cellar, I’ll bring it up.” Seán replied. “I’m going to try to get a deer today. I saw a lot of sign near the mineral blocks. We really don’t need it, but I want to try freeze drying as much as I can and make sausage out of the rest.”
Seán rinsed his mug out and went to get his bow and quiver and his winter gear out. A slight breeze was blowing so he selected a face mask also.
Taking a trail that edged the northern pasture and wide enough for his game cart, Seán moved quietly to his game hide and got settled. He had built the hide/shelter specifically to use his bow in. He didn’t gun hunt from it because he was facing the highway that ran along the river. He propped his bow up and hung the quiver next to the firing opening. A box in the corner held the accoutrements for hunting, a gas stove with canister, some freeze-dried food pouches, bottled water, titanium pot, coffee cup and eating utensils were in the bottom and tools for hanging and field dressing the game in the top tray.
The fields were steaming with the sun melting the frost off. Seán saw a small herd moving his way. They picked up the scent of the deer attractant and rambled his way.
Spotting four does, a young buck and a ten-point buck, as well as he could count, he knew there would be a fight the next rutting season, so he chose the older buck. He waited until the buck moved around until Seán could get a good shot. He took the shot but had to follow the big buck for about a quarter of a mile before he dropped. Seán left the deer hanging to bleed out while he went back to get the game cart. After field dressing the deer, he loaded it on the game cart and headed back to the hide. Seán retrieved his bow and quiver and one of the bottles of water. He sat down and enjoyed the water then returned the gambrel and block and tackle into the box.
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Post by feralferret on Feb 23, 2024 5:08:14 GMT -6
Thanks, ncsfsgm! Another fine chapter.
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Post by rep1270 on Feb 23, 2024 8:14:57 GMT -6
Thank you for the update. Ralph
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Post by gipsy on Feb 23, 2024 8:46:25 GMT -6
Thanks, ncsfsgm! Another fine chapter. I have to agree. The coffee bought back memories of making coffee in a chest high steam kettle for a couple hundred sailors. Used it as a grease cleaner if there was any left.
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Post by iamnobody on Feb 23, 2024 11:43:11 GMT -6
The coffee bought back memories of making coffee in a chest high steam kettle for a couple hundred sailors. Used it as a grease cleaner if there was any left. And "bug juice" (Kool Aid) if there was any leftover from drinking, was used as drain cleaner.
And that explains why all these people drinking the Kool Aid nowadays, their brain is all messed up.
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Post by gipsy on Feb 23, 2024 14:15:59 GMT -6
The coffee bought back memories of making coffee in a chest high steam kettle for a couple hundred sailors. Used it as a grease cleaner if there was any left. And "bug juice" (Kool Aid) if there was any leftover from drinking, was used as drain cleaner.
And that explains why all these people drinking the Kool Aid nowadays, their brain is all messed up.
Just might be true for sure.
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