Author: David

Over-educated Curmudgeon, Bit-Bucket Tuner and Budding Brewmeister.
Posted on

*smh* Too Much Stuff

A reminder that sometimes “too much stuff” can be “just enough stuff” hit me today. Really nice Asus router (just about all the features I want in a router, mid-range price, etc.) had one critical port–the WAN port–die Christmas Eve. Yeh, getting a replacement not happening, and as for contacting Asus support for warranty claim? Nope. And yesterday was taken up with too much to bother with either, so we’ve been down to swapping the ethernet connection to the cable “modem” between devices. . . that have ethernet adapters.

Started seeing my way clear of Xmas stuff (and a break in wood “waste” cleanup) today and was reorganizing some tech equipment. In the Asus router’s box, found a retired cable “modem” (using one that complies with newer standards) and. . . a lil Netgear router that has never been used, a “fell off the back of a truck store” purchase. (Nah, really overstocks and returns place.) Now, I am not a real fan of Netgear routers, and this one is relatively low end, though it does have multiple antennas and two-band radio, so it’s not all that bad.

So, two is one and one is. . . very close to none, but not quite there, yet, and the local network is now fully “WAN-ed up.”

Sometimes, too much stuff is juuuust enough stuff.

Posted on

Is There Room?

“And she brought forth her firstborn Son, and wrapped Him in swaddling cloths, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.”

. . .rendered as “inn” in Luke 2: 7, is – loosely – something like “a place to relax/rest,” and more likely referred to something more along the lines of places in private homes set aside to let out to travelers/visitors. So, the verse in the Christmas song,

Thou didst leave Thy throne and Thy kingly crown,
When Thou camest to earth for me;
But in Bethlehem’s home was there found no room
For Thy holy nativity.
O come to my heart, Lord Jesus,
There is room in my heart for Thee.

“Home” is, in my opinion, more in tune with scripture than the usual translation of Luke 2:7, “inn”. Is there room in your home?

Posted on

“Oh the weather outside is frightful. . . “

Snow (actually, ice) day for schools in America’s Third World County™ (and surrounding areas, as well). While I admit I have submitted to the weather and not gotten on my wood waste cleanup project (yet) today, stew’s on and makin’ for tonight, and I’m-a fixin’ ta head out and work up a sweat, loosen up some of these aching muscles-n-joints. . . 😉

Meanwhile,

Posted on

Recovery Taking Longer Than I Like

“Recovery time” between “exercise sessions” (cutting up and moving “wood waste”) is taking longer than I like, but I’m still enjoying both the activity and even the muscle aches and pains.

It’s the little things, ya know? 🙂

Posted on

There’s Another Lesson That Can Be Drawn From This

Well, at least one two more on top of, “Shoe, meet other foot. And how can Progressives complain? These are just undocumented firearms in search of a better life.”1

Gun sanctuary movement explodes as background checks near record high

  • Do not own guns that must be registered. Either make your own or purchase in a lawful private transaction.
  • Live in a firearms-friendly locale.
  • Practice good infosec/persec.

It’s just common sense, nowadays.

1J.W.B. II, on FarceBook

Posted on

Finally, an Exercise Program I Can Stick With

(Because I HAVE to? *heh*)

Oh, the joys of work. . . even if the pay is only the goal of satisfaction in doing a job well, to completion.

I have difficulty sticking to an exercise program, because such things are BORING. Nevertheless, I seem to have found an exercise program that I can really stick with for at least the next few months: cleaning up this mess and processing all the “waste” into useful things. Of course, at my age, and in my condition, I can only manage one to one-and-a-half hours at a time (with appropriate rest times between), and even then, only about three sessions a day.

And oh! do my muscles ache! (In a very good way, one with which I am quite pleased, in fact.) Right knee (my problematic ACL knee) started aching early, and I felt the thing start to collapse on me but caught it in time. Swollen. Aplied a knee brace and some OTC pain meds, and was back at it. Feels OK. Still sensitive to side pressure, but the brace really helps, and if I take care to carry things on my LEFT side, I am much more comfortable. Typical lower back pain a bit exacerbated, but I’ve put up with lower back pain and pain in my left hip since I was, oh, about eleven, so that’s pretty easily dealt with.

All-in-all, really having fun out there, and looking forward to the projects I have in store for this wood. Sure, most of it (by far) is sycamore–a very “soft” hardwood–but I believe I can get some fencing out of it, as long as I paint it well, and the little stuff will serve nicely as burn material to use in making charcoal out of the elm, maple, and even walnut trees and trimmings that I plan to also take down. Also have some furniture planned for a few of the uniquely-shaped pieces of sycamore. Gonna be fun there, too.

Posted on

Repost from 2007: Who Is He in Yonder Stall?

Benjamin Russell Hanby is probably best known in popular society, if at all, for the great yawner, “Up On the Housetop” (click, click, click…), that merry paean to “Old Saint Nick” often sung at the yuletide.

But Hanby had a deeper side. In fact, he wrote one of the clearest expositions of the life and work of Christ that is available in easily accessible song, “Who Is He in Yonder Stall.”

Who is He in yonder stall
At whose feet the shepherds fall?
Who is He, in deep distress,
Fasting in the wilderness?

Refrain:

‘Tis the Lord, O wondrous story!
‘Tis the Lord, the King of glory;
At His feet, we humbly fall,
Crown Him, crown Him Lord of all!

Who is He the people bless?
For His words of gentleness?
Who is He to whom they bring?
All the sick and sorrowing?

(Refrain)

Who is He that stands and weeps
At the grave where Lazarus sleeps?
Who is He the gathering throng
Greet with loud triumphant song?

(Refrain)

Lo, at midnight who is He
Prays in dark Gethsemane?
Who is He on yonder tree
Dies in grief and agony?

(Refrain)

Who is He that from the grave
Comes to heal and help and save?
Who is He that from his throne
Rules through all the world alone?

Refrain:

‘Tis the Lord, O wondrous story!
‘Tis the Lord, the King of glory;
At His feet, we humbly fall,
Crown Him, crown Him Lord of all!

I prefer hearing this sung as a series of questions posed by various choirs and soloists with the refrain sung once at the end in answer to all the questions posed, but that’s not how Hanby wrote it, so usually when I selected this hymn for use, I’d just have the congregation sing it as Hanby wrote it: one verse (question) and the answer repeated again and again in the refrain.

It’s a simple story, simply told and easily grasped.

‘Tis the Lord, O wondrous story!
‘Tis the Lord, the King of glory;
At His feet, we humbly fall,
Crown Him, crown Him Lord of all!

Posted on

Sometimes, It’s the Not-So-Little Things

I often find myself hating to read Western novels. Oh, quite often such fare is the best place to find good heroes and bad villains in a struggle of good vs evil, a sort of morality play which, when well done, is not at all a didactic club over the head, and very often a well-told tale all-in-all, except for one thing: most of them feature horses that are treated as though they are machines, and not all that well-maintained machines at that. It seems many Western writers know diddly-squat about horses, having gained all they think they know from Hollyweird Westerns and other poorly-prepared Western writers.

Chaps my gizzard.

Posted on

Not Exactly Wodehousian, But. . .

So very, VERY NOT my “cuppa tea,” but. . . Holly Bell (pen name) has penned a series of “cozy mysteries” with a “paranormal” bent that is just. . . charming. *heh* I would so very much like to see the Amanda Cadabra books turned into a well-done TV series (perhaps the producers of The Vicar of Dibley or folks with a similar set of sensibilities and talents could do the series justice). Why these stories appeal to me might best be described by saying they very nearly as charmingly frivolous and inconsequential as Wodehouse’s typical stories: just fun, and little else.

IMO, the world needs more wholesome fun.