Trying to adjust

I have lived an adventurous life. You could reasonably say I have had more than my share of adrenalin pumping experiences.

 


Now I am no longer involved, on a daily basis, in those activities that give you what some call, a “rush”.
Now I live out in the woods and away from people.

My only companions are my dogs. I have learned that dogs are much more preferable company than most people.

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I’m just trying to adjust to a quiet life.

I enjoy taking my dogs out for a daily run around what I like to call LZ Jerry; actually it’s only a couple of acres with a fish pond and a creek running through it.

But it’s mine.

I fish in my pond (Lake Jerry), do some target shooting out back, and about once a week I go into town for supplies.

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I always try to keep an ample supply of the three B’s. That would be bacon, beer, and bullets.

 


That is not the hard part.

The hard part is dealing with people on the internet for parts, equipment, and generally anything that requires purchase and payment.
If there was a list of things that I have a low tolerance for; it would likely be “incompetence” at the top of that list.
It seems in this world of technology, you can’t get away from it even living in the woods. In the jobs I have had, it would not only have not been tolerated, but people could die or be seriously injured from it.
The only danger of that now would be if I were somehow able to reach through the internet or phone and choke the shit out of the person on the other end.

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So this is my adjustment problem. I’m working on it but, in truth, there is a good possibility I may never achieve my goal.
Everyone have a great weekend!
Oh, except for you commie bastards and terrorist; I hope y’all fuckin die.

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Yes, yes I said that

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“We spend our first twenty years wishing we were older and the rest of our life wishing we were younger” 

“When we forget how old we are, our body never fails to remind us.”

Private if you’re looking for sympathy…

You can find it in the dictionary somewhere between shit and syphilis.

History tells us that Patriots will cross a frozen river at midnight on Christmas and kill you in your sleep if you try to take our freedom…

“Once I sat down to make a “bucket list” but then after a while I realized I had nothing to put on it.

Thank you Lord.”

“Political correctness is a fatal disease spread orally by liberals and it is not covered by Obamacare”

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Author G M Roberts

An early Tuesday morning on LZ Jerry

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On Monday night after a typical “Monday” I sat down in my recliner to see if I might find a brief respite from reality on the TV.

I went to bed about 2330 hours after watching the movie Avatar.

At about 0230 hours my dog Jack wakes me up. He wants to go outside.

OK, I figured something he ate disagreed with him so I let him out. About five minutes later and he is ready to come back in.

I’m thinking now I will be able to sleep at least until 0600 hours.

Out of a sound sleep I hear this banging around and it sounds like it is coming from the living room.

I look at the clock and its 0430 hours.

I think to myself, what are those damn dogs doing playing grab ass at this time of the morning? I can’t get any rest.

I’m still half asleep as I stager into the living room, when I realize Jack is right beside me, following me out of the room.

What’s wrong with this picture?

When I get to the living room I see that the spot light on the porch, which works on a motion detector, is on.

As I pull back the curtain covering the sliding glass door I see my garbage can is lying on its side with the lid off and there is garbage all over the porch.

Now, to be clear, I have a 45 gallon plastic can on wheels that is not easy to knock over.

As I look around I see a big wet foot print on the porch. Big and kind of round looking, at this point I am thinking I may know who the culprit is.

I am not real happy with my attack dogs, Dash didn’t bother to get out of her bed and Jack my pit mix who barks at everything is perfectly quiet.

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Well, it’s too early for me to go pick up the garbage and the light is on a timer so I go back to bed but as I do, I am thinking I probably haven’t heard the last of my visitor.

Sure enough, ten minutes later I hear more rustling out on the porch. This time the spot light is not on so I grab my flashlight and quietly pull back the curtain and turn on the flashlight.

Jack has also pulled back the curtain so he too can see.

What we saw was a very large black bear with his back to us, up against the glass door.

As I shined the light on his back, that covered the entire width of the door, I raised the light up to where his head should be.

The bear then raised his head from the task of sorting the garbage and looked out in the yard making what reminded me of a Mickey Mouse looking shadow. I realized the flashlight was shining over his head and lighting the yard.

Wanting to get a better look at the culprit, I ran to turn on my big porch spot light.

By then the bear apparently heard me moving or got spooked by the light and had disappeared leaving garbage everywhere.

Through this entire event Jack, who barks at everything, has not made a sound. He just stood there at the glass door and watched.

This gives a whole new meaning to the term “watch dog”

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