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Take a look at the world through my eyes.

The Disclaimer

I must apologize for the lack of congruency of some of these blogs. I actually started writing these at the beginning of 2006. These were only blogcasted through a closed circuit of e-mail friends who every now and then responded. I tried to keep as many responses as possible. But unfortunately many have been lost. This at times will make some blogs seem kind of chopped up.
If you are offended or insulted by the content of any of these blogs, my apologies. But then again, perhaps it is just what you needed!
Also if you find your name in any of these blogs I am obviously talking about somebody else with the same name. You’re not the center of the universe you know. Gaud!!!
Proper spelling is not something that I have ever really understood. I really do not know how this particular activity ever came into existence. Therefore I do not participate.

The Blog Cast

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Rusty the Baby

Rusty the Baby
My first blog!

Three Religiions

Three Religiions
Facing the wall

Sunday, Jan. 24th 2010, Captains Blog: My slightly populated walden

So as the years turned into months, and the months turned into days, and the days turned into hours, and the hours turned into seconds, and finally time stood still to take a breath from its long unending march into infinity. It was there that it found and insignificant Rusty walking a small little country trail that lay below the ominous sight of a towering Titan god like mountain range called by humans "The Andes". The is same range that gave the little man (Rusty) the gift of seeing a pair of Ocelots (a small tawny endangered lynx like mountain cat) on a hike a different day.
This trip started out with a necessity which was that he had to go and pick up Thomas and Maddy from their friends house where they spent the night. Rusty left the house crossing the property climbing the steps to the guest house (which is en route off the property) to see the shiny eyed stare of Mr. Buns. This was an event as Tammy and Rusty had found that he was missing that same morning. The two mounted a search that turned out to be futile having learned that Mr. Bun's will show himself when he feels his hiatus is over. How can Mr. Buns be blamed? He is a Firestone after all. Rusty decided that he could not criticize his own.
After depositing Mr. Buns in his cage Rusty continued out the far gate through the bamboo garden off the property, following the water canal up to the swinging bridge to cross the river that was swollen by the previous nights rain. The evenings and rain which was part of the now seasonal summer rains had turned the trails into veins of overgrown green tentacles of life that reach out to you as you walk underneath the swaying eucalyptus trees. The time was cool as the clouds fought to keep out the sun but the sun was bound to win as it pushed rays in through unattended patches.
Upon my arrival at my friend’s house I was offered the gift of a celery stick and salad dressing to dip it in which I happily accepted.
Rusty told the children that today was a pedestrian day. Although not to happy they led the way back home. As they weaved through the country back on the same trail of which the little man had come they passed estate villas of the cities rich, the rich fields of flowers of the countries impoverished. They crossed the occasional river rock paved lane which transported the wealthy up and down from their weekend country homes to the city as well as some public transportation for those who were not so wealthy.
The little man to his amazement heard a sound break the silence of the wind and the trees. It was the sound of a lone voice accompanied by a charango (the Andean equivalent of a mandolin). He waited to see who it was. The little man, Rusty, soon was rewarded the sight of a crazy cross-eyed hippy walking down the lane singing and playing an Andean folk song and the top of his weed scorched lungs. Rusty had to admit he did sound pretty good but still had to control his mirth as it was too neighborly of a day to cause conflict. So the trio continued on their trek onward with the occasional complaint of Maddy who could not understand why were not taking some kind of vehicular transportation.
Later while Rusty sat on his hand made wood lawn chair resting from his hike staring at an eye-popping , hundred mile, clear view across the valley he saw Maddy come running up with Mr. Buns in her arms (the rabbit almost her size) saying "I solved the mystery of Mr. Buns escape!" In her hand was a piece of tile which she stated had fallen from the top of the adobe wall that surrounds the property. "This brick fell on Mr. Bun’s cage knocking it open and letting him out!" she smiled proudly. The little man said “Good job Sweety!". She beamed “Now I am putting him back into his house." She then carried the seeming gigantic guilty looking rabbit by the nape of his neck back to his cage.
Then time was rested and got up and started its endless walk once more. Seconds turned back into minutes, and minutes turned into hours, and hours into days, and days into months, and months finally into years. This same small insignificant little man will confess that these unaccounted for minutes in the quantum of a calm breathing eternity are minutes that he has stolen and he will always have as his own.

Have a great week!

FeO2

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