Marriage...

...this day wuz one to note...Marina and i married ourselves--legally--at our kitchen table! yep, we are officially hitched.

Beliefs...

...xpand and contract ones core.
Like water that freezes in the rock and splits it apart.
It iz no more the waters fault, than that of the rock.
Xpanding simplee in thinking, oftin stirs Lifes soup of acceptance.
...is this right?...will i be judged?...i know they will not understand
Turn thinking into action, to Live yer truth.
Then soup turns to stew, murky and chunky.
Acceptance by who--family, friends and co-workers.
Powerful opinions, keeping ones core contracted fer Life.
Feeling so right, warm and true.
Kept safelee wrapped/concealed; oozing emptee over tyme.
Allow that rock to split.
Anticipate the fragments, the new colour and sense.
Tap that root, yer Natural high...
...Beliefs

If one wuz...

...to endeavor from scratch? Wut wood they B?

If a MG, Jag or Caddilac had never been painted.

A house naught bought and sold for profit and twenty-eight built since.

If homes and lands were never listed for sale, lining pockets, each one.

Then wut? Still dripping wet, cord attached, yet forty Winters have past.

Visceral in step_______Carnal in thought.

Wood there actually B one? An endeavor--try earnestly, make an earnest attempt.

Is it not this, which has enervated one to begin with?

Where is thy haven?

Home Brew Two...

...wuz roarin.

Date wuz wrong for all the crafty gals, but, show'ers still had sum fun, food and drink. Cider, Cyser, Melomel, Metheglin, Fezik and a great Beer.

Thanx to all, the next one...well who knows, when? Thanx to our "fire" friend az well. Yer warmth iz always welcome.

All their...

...fault!

"Did you see that picture in the paper? It just looked evil. Just evil!"

"This is the worst year for hunting I have ever seen."

"Never in my life have I went out and not seen a buck. I mean 6 hours in the woods and nothing. How boring."

"Just go out and if you actually shoot something. Then I'd go buy a tag."

All these words spoutin off across the valley...

"I'll tell ya what. Next year I will not be buying any tags until I kill something."

"It's bullshit that we give 'em our money for licenses and then they go and mess it up for us."

"I ain't payin for no Wolf tag either, but you can damn well bet I'll shoot everyone I see."

---- ---- ---- ----

The White Man truly must be, single handedly, without a doubt the most...

...ignorant creature on the planet!

What happened to the thinking of...

"There ain't nuthin worth doin, that don't take work."

Control is an interesting thing.

"Keep those fuckin Wolves outta here and let me hunt!"

Folk will say we humans are the most advanced race on the planet. Reckon graphs and charts could prove such talk. Yet thousands of times a day common folk dis-prove such talk on a foundational level.

Harmony and peace spoke of often. By a few! State of delerium, I say. Does that make me ignorant? Some could say.

Instinct says defend your Life and your families. Or possibly loose it. Also says strong taketh from the weak. Nature and humans alike.

Everything has to eat. Wolves too. "Not if they're dead, they don't." Oh bravo, mister intelligence. Humans are the only species on the planet that will execute to extinction based on loss. "Well damn it this is how I make my livin. I had 900 head last month, now I have 883. That was food on my families table." Three words--GET OVER IT--Ranching just like farming comes at a price. No different than supermarkets selling produce, a percentage is lost every month. Live with it and move on. But don't change the entire eco-system so ya all don't have to do this or do that.

You look but you can not see. You yell but do not listen. Is there any prospect of coming to Life?

If I had my way I would tether all your ignorance, of the "termination" mind set. Tether you high in the hills for the Wolves, maybe growl some sense into ya and learn that all the creatures of the planet, Wolf and human have equal right to roam this Earth.

Takers is what we are. It's all for money and defines our way's of Life.

In the end, we are the end.

Just keep on taking. Some take less, sure, but still taking.

Ever think that it just doesn't matter and this is the grand plan. Evolution brought us here, to this very moment in time and she will and is constantly forming the mold for generations to come? Who ever they may be.

Does it really matter if ya drive a Hummer or Lamborgini or walk or bike to work. Your neighbor and his neighbor and the neighboring state and the neighboring country and their neighboring country has similar thoughts...

...along the lines of...Living Life to avoid pain and gain pleasure.

Pleasure comes in millions of facets and 99% enjoyed are most likely depleting in concept.

Enjoy yer oxygen while you have it and bloody hell, just hunt smarter!

Haunting event...

...Quiz night at The Queens Head. Two locals, one childhood resident and a stray. Had some laughs, drinks, smoke and yummy dessert. Michael entertains in 4 inch Leopard skin heels, further up etched in sparkling fuchsia lipstick and mascara thicker than Epping Forest. Fourth place is hawed about, bill paid and reminisce lapped up.

Off go the four. One wants a taxi, cuz he "...can't be bothered with the tube...". Bounding along thru late night London's sensory overload of pollution, thence round a corner, forgotten is its name. Yet scene etched in me brain...

...taxi's rushing by, her blond hair fallen below a shoulder, corner store shows open. Neath a stone window sill four feet high, sits her, less than three. Eight eyes go fixed, her back impressed and soaking up cool stones of England's damp. Butt scooched out, planted as old growth. Our legs still move forward, whose pace changed? Anyones? Three of four, I reckon. Knees scrunched up tight w/ a bright white fag balancing atop like a crown jewel. Fixed I am upon her squat, placing meaning upon the openness of her legs, wondering of upbringing, the wrong guy seeing opportunity, a group seizing the moment? Fag glows of orange three inches from her lips. Would have blindly walked into a hole due to my gaze. Questioning and wondering of her stature, gulped me in. Vertical rectangle print of dull reds and yellow run her up and down, legs cased in black leggins. "Do you think she's alright?", "Yea, she's fine. Look at her, she's got two fags." As her lips loose touch of fingers and the ugly yellow butt exits her mouth. Finally--"Are you ok?", the tenderness of female knowingness asks outward versus us only inward. Smoke exhaled, strifles up adding to city filth. Lips gently say "No.", without any confirmation. "Ahh, she's fine, she'll be fine!", drunken slur convincingly laps ears and minds. Curbside three still peer like Muir cats and one simply craves a taxi. "No" was stated and yet our walk continued, as did her abyss like stare. What was in her darkness that night? We shall never know. What did "No" mean? Why did one mans disregard overpower three's interest?

Sorry ain't good enough, but it is all I can say...

Stood...

...where time begins, this day. Pretty touristy, but who cares. Kinda fascinating that not too long ago, mechanical, time did not exist. Tried taking a photo of the worlds first (practical) clock for ya Reva, but was nearly tackled, cameras and personnel were recording every ones move.

Principal meridian of 0 degrees, to which parallels for the civilized world begin. Greenwich was great. Only 350 years of mechanical time on our hands, then a couple hundred later scalps sent to wallpaper London.

New sense of why the Native American Indians were thought of being such heathens......Europeans are so bloody proper. Strip a Grizzly cub of its mother and innately he/she will know how to forage. Strip a European child of its mother and innately he/she will know where to place all 16 pieces of silverware and how the tie is knotted. Deeply inbred for thousands of years.

Spain...

...Club Delta Mar in Riviera Del Sol, between Fuengirola and Marbella. Simply the noisiest RCI resort ever stayed in! Coastal lands packing condos for tourists---like us.

Went to Mijas via a 20 minute bus ride because we were told and read of it being a nice Spanish Village. What a joke, we both felt as tho we were in Florida w/ my parents. Tourist trinket shops and English eating joints lined the streets.

Walked along the beach to Playa LaCalahonda which had a small marina again lined w/ tourist restaurants. Had dreamy ideas of sailing!!!

Drinking on the terrace and playin cards and our light burned out. Dial 9 and out comes "maintenance". A nice Spanish man that spoke english, so i asked if there was a place we could go to get away from the touristy areas? He said NO! Inland was his best advice. Logical now thinking of it---Spain has been an English escape for many decades, local true villages can not exist on these coastal waters.

Eating fresh croissants w/ a smear of Nutella, that's delicious!

Sittin and waitin, bus should be comin. There she be and all us folk line up like sheep, except one bloke in blue. Pockets and purses are his focus. Myself not payin any mind, just shuffling along like a good sheep should do, but once on the bus..."Ya, he would have taken that guys wallet if I wouldn't have said HEY!", this big ole female bloke rambles on to her other big ole female partner. "We ought to do something!". "Come on now just sit down.", "Look at him out there!", she yells. Her ruckus draws attention and eyes, including mine. I rise up and pinpoint a curly haired 60 plus year old man blending in amongst the flock. Beady little eyes to go along w/ his tiny regard of others. Engaged in amazement, as he one by one weaves in and out, seeking an open hole of the careless traveler. "Look at him...the guy in blue!", she yells to the bus driver. "He is a pick-pocketer." Her excitement opens my adrenaline valve, as i still gaze on. Bus continues to load and his line of opportunity shrinks to nothing.

Much like the buses diesel smoke, our bloke in blue dissipates. "Where'd he disappear? In a corner don'tcha know, countin his take!", she blows on. Interesting how once my eyes synced up to the situation how much i wanted to jump into the mix, like Wolves to a Caribou or was it like white cops beating the life out of a black man? Ither way it's an irrational reactionary, border line survival instinct response.

Sidelines vs. center ring?!?!?!

Chalk Farm...

...and lost, if i were.
Wood i be here?
Bus after car, stroller prior woman. Breath drawn and spat out. Not in relief, but sum form of grief.
Arse now upon grass, all still pass. Soon girls to be met, who knows where we jet?
Since i am here, me must be lost

Swinging...

...with a blond, just for awhile.
They really do have moor fun!!!!
Look at those cheek bones, yummy!!!!

Can't compare...

...but i do.

English countryside is so lush and manicured, giving way to stiles and trails for one to ramble across her entirety. Something provocative in this offering, yet the wild ness of Montana's grandeur sets one to a different awe.

Foods in the states is crap by all comparisons. Marina has always expressed her knowing, however my un-knowing could not comprehend. Clear in taste and memory now---pheasant, duck, rabbit, venison, lamb, pig, quail etc. are offered for lunch and dinner w/ all the trimmings. States offer a burger and fries or perhaps chicken nachos. Woo Hoo!!!

Buildings again miss the mark. Sure there are a handful, mainly churches. However for centuries homes have been built to with stand centuries, not to say the country side did not pay a toll for this consumption of man. Hell it paid over here also, but we just built shacks w/ Natures givings, something to get by, something that continues to consume until it collapses.

Crave...

...what do they? next best thing...doubt it!
globetrotters...ya think? DSL or dial up?
honest to soul...i reckon! appreciative...hourly!
never spoke w/ theez women, simply stole a digital echo.
transportive one at that.

Walked to...

...Pescosolido this morn. Along our route found a tiny market, ya know the ones the size of some folks bathrooms, served the entire village, small yet delicious bread, cheese and prosciutto still available. Pescosolido is the real deal. Nothing touristy! Structures from 1187 and cobble streets all dotting a hillside next to Abruzzi National Park. Another tiny market in town proper had Roma tomatoes out front, which we were lacking. Inside a local Father was laughing w/ the store keeper. He pulled out a 10 euro bill and raised it up with definite question in his action. Kindness from behind the counter waived it off-out the door-up the steps to the church. Off he went smiling w/ his plastic bag full of goodies and 10 euros. Someone should let the Father in on the re-use of canvas bags. 0.15 euros of tomatoes then 1 euro for a beer of Marina's liking and we had la fresca style lunch atop a marble bench while local men relentlessly went on about seemingly crucial/useless conversation.
7 p.m. was our departure time to La Quercia del Baronia, for a second time, which meant us and one adorable little puppy could say excited hellos thru a metal gate along our walk. Marina was looking forward to pasta this evening, Baronia's chef schooled in England and Paris, delighted our palates once again. Ravioli w/ cheese and pear topped w/ almond sauce. Gnocchi w/ spinach, mint, lemon, lime and ginger. Wow what delights!
European cheek kisses exchanged w/ gracious Anna Maria saying "You are so kind!".
Not that you would choose to visit Sora or Pescosolido on your visit to Italy, BUT if you did take the 2 plus hour bus ride to the end of road, visit La Quercia del Baronia, disappointment will not find you.

Breakfast in Italy...

....farmstay, situated below the small village of Pescosolido abutting Abruzzi National Park. Olive trees skirt grapevines. Squash lye in their beds. Goat, sheep, chickens and donkeys all kick about. Missed the grape harvest by 4 days, oh well, fermenters are bubbling away.

Walked around Sora, Italy too long. Seems nearly the entire town closes down from noon to four. Why? We do not know, theory is that all Italian men have a mistress, so this time goes towards lunch w/ wife and kids then off for "mistress mischief". Made our way to Coal super market and found 12-20 Prosciutto legs hangin, along w/ 20 plus cheese flavours. Tomato, bread, cheese and melt in yer mouth prosciutto created our lunch at curbside.

So fine and delightful, just as their grape, was Dominico's family. Along our meandering 45 minute walk back to the Italy farm stay a well fed yet stout, Oak of a man wearing a black tank top pushed a spewing wheel barrow across and down. Ah ha, pith and seed of grape can only mean large containers with spigots, iron and wood creating many pounds of pressure, sweat from brow and pit, wiped away with hands stained rich purple. My smile and wave leads to another. "Marina you know they are making something up there!?". As my body language is all but being pulled forcefully up hill. She nods and gives way by a sweeping hand motion, as if to say, "...follow yer gut I will follow you, this is one of the facets I love about you." So I did just that. Up the hill to smiles of invitation and words of zero comprehension. "Vino", with a drinking hand gesture is all I could muster. I believe "Vina" was vocaled in return and before long the Oak of a man was throwing his voice up hill, til a dear lady being his wife of decades made her way down below. One tier below us sat a man with eyes deep as bark, of which decades of time have sagged his eyelids, saying, "Yeap I used to carry a pack like yours and make passionate love to that apron wearing woman on your right and watch out--we are still hangin in there!!!" I wish I knew what this happy smiling 90 plus year old man was truly saying to me. He just sat quietly for a spell w/ his little hat resting on his cane and then all at once he would excitedly exclaim out to me.

Out came two plastic cups and a 1/3 full bottle of shiny purple gold. Our hosts all awaiting our response. After a toast, sniff and swig---ahh the smiles of glee and words of no literal meaning drowned the terrace.
Been articulated centuries over and once again "The best things in Life are free." Later that evening we paid 44 euros plus 20% gratuity for a exquizitely prepared 4 course meal, does wine count as one course? Anna Maria and Giovanni at La Quercia del Baronio were great to meet. The meal will be remembered years from now, but the FREE cache of our brains tap a deeper level. Dominico's family refused our offer to pay with intensity, so much so that when I reached for my camera bag hanging around my neck, all but the old timer rushed me and exclaimed out, they thought I was reaching for money. I thought they were going to tackle me.
Free with expression, desire, love, sharing and true delight. Sent home we were, full bottle in hand w/ diligent Italian instruction from all, not to drink too much at once and to leave the lid cracked open or perhaps the bottle AND us could have an explosion. Fair warning!
Connection of soul versus meeting via money exchange. Perhaps how ya meet, matters not, it's what was exchanged!

May your father belt out in passion for years to follow. Thank ya kindly, Ciao!

No bus...

...station in Sora, just a bench D'Ambrosi O Pane and Dolce, meaning the best pastry shop for a hundred miles, well that is what it meant to us. No bathroom or phone. Be prepared for foul weather and be flexible. Dropped off for a 10:50 bus, well a bus left at 10:50 but it was not going to Rome??? Another bus at 11:30 indicating Anagnina but he waived us off and drove away. Til this moment the language barrier had been OK, but this is like the barrier in Costa Rica, it just plain sucks. Been pacing now at least 20 minutes and these are the instances where i question, "why i travel to a foreign country at all. hell i can read about an area in books and via internet, in English, loaded w/ photos."
We sit, Marina twirling her hair, our necks twisting left to right at any sound, wishing it be a blue colored Cotral bus. Nothing! Clouds lying atop mountains looking beautiful and throwing a chill towards us. Marina went to the Polizia Locale to attempt a bathroom? Thank you to a darling female officer that allowed her to use the facilities and that called Cotral, next bus time 2:40 pm, WOW! Now we search for a different view of scenery. Cafe's, Pizzeria's, Bars all closed.
Looking, looking, looking, well this bush looks good along some main drag so i take a leak. Finally Geleteria Masci saved us, especially me, two cones later, crema and espresso we are wired to wait it out.
This is a good example of why to leave early and not have some lazy relaxed morning. Miss an early bus, then catch the next, miss the late morning bus and you miss your day. Well atleast as you had it planned, but then again "Life is what happens while making plans.", right???????
We missed a day in Rome but will never forget waiting for the bus and eating ice cream......

One forgets...

...how trashy cigarette smokers can be especially in cities. Butts just tossed everywhere. Could it be cities are just plain filthy places. Period. So why not just add to it??? Kinda like the "don-t shit in my backyard mentality".

Yummy...

...my first Baklava at the Wilton Cafe Bakery, London, you can find deliciously dripping treats along w/ freshly made Turkish food.

How big...

...its not hotel! easyHotel.com is pretty darn thrifty.
Not bad, but two doors down, ya get free wi'fi.
Marina's out reached arms plus one foot was the room width, not stayed in a "pod hotel" prior, pretty great really. Reminded me of my thoughts of, "Why is there no place across the states where a guy can just get a cheap room for the night?" $60 is not a cheap sleep.

Missed...

...the Square and Compass Pub along w- Corfe Castle.
Perhaps next time round.

Bournemouth...

...Leslie and Dale.
Besides simply being lovely folk, will always hold a special memory,
thanx for being my first hosts in this old country.

Enjoy your hut with oceans breeze
May a cottage replace yer flat
May she smoke and still be well
Visit and we will walk amongst, our treez

Swanage, England...

...led me to my first Scrumpy in 4 decades. The long awaited Ploughmans lunch found me lips az well, at a splendid pub built in 1587! "So what is the difference between Cider and Scrumpy?"---"The apple!", she says, simply the variety of apple. Well Sheppy's Scrumpy was xquizit! Look at that piece of cheese, thankfully we split the plate. Never eaten so much cheese in one sitting, danger!

On the deck...

...runnin solo !!!!

Shood i put my lifevest on ????

Think twice...

...do not buy for "one day", buy for now/the immediate/this day CUZ tomorrow will certainly change and may never reveal yesterday's past.

Wassail!....to a new batch of Saskatoon Melomel Mead, as well as....fresh Hungarian Split Farmhouse bread. Yum, missin ya.

Epping Forest...

...here i come!
Marina and i are going to see her homeland for 5 weeks(Italy, Netherlands and Spain will drench our senses as well).
This jaunt will be hell in the sense of---already knowing my vagabonding craving will be amplified ten fold!!!!!

Twisted...

...ways for generations

Your smoking heathen carries to and fro
Hear I dangle, struggle in this tangle
Your tons of iron rolls by, day after day
Are thooz eyes closed, can you not see
Can you not see thee

My thrashing, my squirming, my pulling
All my energy exhausted, I bleat out in pain
Writhed and wriled every inch of this dirt
You sit up there in your pretty white shirt

Agony, you bastards, what about your phone
Bet you called yer ole lady back home
Tried to jump on two from side to side
No water, no food, this heat, shade is none

There you go one more time
Energy is none, given up, I am done
Enjoy yer trip, hope hell suits you for your crime
I lay my head now, this barbed wire still...
...twisted

Pesticides--Not organic then Question it

What's On My Food? :: How Much is Too Much? (((this is a link)))

This info stemmed from seemingly unconcious people and my own ignorance. People (including loved ones) still eating wendy's, burger king and foot long hotdogs served up in styrafoam boats, others filling gigantic cooler like glasses w/ fountain drinks smoking cigarettes only to travel 70 miles to get a re-fill and inhale more. What is so god damn difficult about making wholesome meals exclusively from ingredients without scientific names. Aim to control weeds, birds, rain, fires and now Bill Gates working to control hurricanes...go figure...so as an adult...one true thing we are in complete control of is---what goes in our mouth---if ya think it is too hard or takes much time or blah, blah, blah then have the guts to watch "factory farming" or "food,inc". If ya keep on doin what yer doin after that then...??? Everything in moderation i suppose! Like Bob says, "...people obviously don't care." Choose yer battles comes to mind also.
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413 miles, ending a 2,045 mile...

...gruel !!! This Saint Bernard in Browning, MT could be a reminder----rest yer chin, it will be there----I remember telling Marina w/ some kind of authoratative tone prior to leaving, "I am gunna go just 250 miles/day and where ever that puts me then that is where i git fer t' day." Character flaw comes to mind, not just in me but in most, what is the "pushing on" thing about, we all do it w/ something---riding, carrying mulch, mowing, choppin firewood, deleting photos, one more paper graded etc, etc.. Some are simply more excessive than others. Time and money are probably the two biggest drivers, yet the concept of "avoiding pain to gain pleasure" comes up as well. Work in progress i reckon? Perhaps one of the keys is to recognize when you are not like this and apply it to other events/activities.
Member the Saint Bernard----rest yer chin, it will be there----

278 miles of raw 94-96 degree heat...

...leaves this guy tired. Made it to Malta, MT. What a scorcher!

Observed thus far i am absolutely the most under equipped motorcyclist out here, however i did see this poor cyclist w/ a backpack on and stuff hanging front and rear, a tear was shed for him...yet, if my ass could bleed purely from pain...my blue jeans would run red

315 milies & beatin w/ wind...

...this day. How many miles per hour duz the flag represent?
Took my 125cc's down to 75cc's.
But who cares when ya run down a farmers wheat field at the end of the day to a luxurious mosquito infested bed of grass like this...a room with a view!!!!
Figured out today (during a 3 hour pit stop) what happened 7 miles into my journey days back...my air mixture screw on the carbureator FELL OUT...1200 plus miles of fighting the idle at every stop, everywhere. Could not believe it but Bob the owner of Cycle Shack in Grand Forks, MN took a screw out of a brand new Mikuni and put it in my Keihin and it sorta worked and after a collaboration of 4 guys(((random quotes from these guys---"I am depressed today, I found out I became a great grand daddy." why does that depress ya, "Because I still have a 24 yr old mind."---"My old lady got kinda shit faced last nite so I was late to work for my original job, but its ok." ---"I just can't do anything right today, I gotta be careful...I am becoming my own worst enemy." ---"Ya know these guys do not like working with me." why is that, "Because I know what I am doing and they do not try to change what I know." ))) put it back together and she purred away, he let me go for $35 and said to send him a post card. Thank ya kindly! Good luck w/ yer special forces man out back....

Good morning Sunshine...

...what a change from last night. thanx fer the show!!!!

284 miles in full on sunshine, yum!

Watch out for crazy breads in Wisconsin but more important watch out for crazy redneck hunters w/ ready to fire broadhead equipped antennas....