Dedication, heroism, commitment, heart

Dedication, heroism, commitment, heart
Sea, Air, Land


I was told this sign was posted onto the door of a wounded Navy Seal member, while he is recuperating from his wounds suffered while in combat.
I've known a couple Navy SEALs, and I think they'd not mind me saying that SEALs are not like other people. They are part Chuck Norris, part George Washington. They are a highly trained and highly skilled and exceedingly small group of extraordinary people, and my support goes to all who try to enter into such hallowed ranks. Of all who try for such goals, a very, very select few will ever attain the high degree of commitment and skill and mental tenacity needed for the job.
The mind is the greatest barrier to excellence for most people. Most people do not have what it takes to push themselves to the almost super-human degree needed to become a SEAL.
This young man has what it takes to make this country great, we wish him the best in his recuperation, and the rest of his life...may it be long and grand. God Bless ya' Dude.

Memories of Summer Past

Memories of summer past

Momma always told me not to look into the eyes of the sun...
but Momma, that's where the fun is...
~Bruce Springsteen~
'Blinded by the light'

Madman drummers bummers,
Indians in the summer with a teenage diplomat
In the dumps with the mumps as the adolescent pumps his way into his hat
With a boulder on my shoulder, feelin' kinda older,
I tripped the merry-go-round
With this very unpleasin', sneezin' and wheezin,
the calliope crashed to the ground


Every season has it's delightful aspects. I like winter with it's cool weather and rain that gives the land time to regenerate and rest. But I suppose nothing really beats a warm summer afternoon at the beach. Here's a photo I took this last summer of people walking their dogs on a Santa Barbara beach.
Summer will come again, but we'll have to wait until next summer.
But when in a nostalgic mood, looking over frosty hills on a bleak winter's day, what better memories of summers past than the funky sound of Manfred Mann's Earth Band and their great classic song 'Blinded by the light'.
Some silicone sister with a manager mister told me I go what it takes
She said "I'll turn you on sonny to something strong,
play the song with the funky break"
And go-cart Mozart was checkin' out the weather chart to see if it was safe outside
And little Early-Pearly came by in his curly-wurly and asked me if I needed a ride
Asked me if I needed a ride
But she was...
Blinded by the light,
revved up like a deuce,
another runner in the night
Blinded by the light
She got down but she never got tired
She's gonna make it through the night

A country road

A country road in the morning, the sea-mist rolling in from the Pacific, to blanket the coastal plains with a moist cool shroud, that will dissipate with the strengthening sun.

The other end of the same road in the afternoon.
The main trees in this photo are the Coastal Live Oaks, but you can also see a line of Sycamores running down one hill. This shows a spring active in that local, and the water runs down the creek with the water-loving Sycamores sucking up all they can.
Using know-how like this is how people in wilderness survival situations stay alive.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Researchers are looking at old paintings to see the sunsets and sunrises portrayed thereon. This might help them analyze old weather patterns, especially volcanic pollution put into the atmosphere.

Ten things you'll never hear a redneck say

Ten Things You'll Never Hear a Redneck Say:
10. You can't feed that to the dog.
9. Honey, did you mail that donation to Greenpeace?
8. We're vegetarians.
7. We don't keep firearms in this house.
6. Honey, we don't need another dog.
5. Too many deer heads detract from the decor.
4. Cappuccino tastes better than espresso.
3. Duct tape won't fix that.
2. I'll take Shakespeare for 1000, Alex.

And, Number ONE is:

1. The tires on that truck are too big.



Driving in Santa Maria I saw this nice looking truck. Now, this is my kinda' ride.
An' yes, if'n ya ax me, the tahrs on that truck make it all the bedder.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Whether you are concerned with global warming,
or whether it is economic reasons, it makes good sense to conserve....
A recent study shows that simple measures to curb energy use would reduce the total amount of energy required, reduce our nation's 'carbon footprint', and save money in the long run.
I've always thought that the core of 'conservative thinking' is the root word, 'conserve'.
For both the frontiers families of old, and rural families now, to be able to hold onto what you have, and make that oil or propane last a bit longer before the man comes to fill the tank again, it just makes sense to conserve.
The New York Times has an excellent article on this.

You can never go home

Sunset, Lompoc California.
A positive mental attitude brings with it faith, enthusiasm,
personal initiative, self-discipline, imagination and definiteness
of purpose, which attract people and beneficial opportunities.
A negative mental attitude carries with it fear, indecision, doubt,
procrastination, irritability and anger, which repel people and
drive away favorable opportunities.

Knowledge is the only instrument of production that is not subject
to diminishing returns.
~David Brannon~





Lompoc has become well known for space launches, flower fields, and more recently, for it's many fine varietals of wine grown in the area.

The Lompoc area is also well known for it's natural beauty. It's a nice little town.
'The Small Town'
~Virginia (Ginny) Ellis~
The stillness and the quietness,
The boredom, the routine,
Anything and everything,
Either dies or is redeemed.


One can't escape the small town,
Even when one packs and leaves,
It is embedded in one's guts,
Like a lingering disease.


Ah, the small town - the sleepy small town,
A place to love and hate, you know,
People dream one day to leave it,
But it will never let them go.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
From our blog in May 2006:
You can never go home

~Oregon Hill~
~Cowboy Junkies~
The hoods are up on Pine Street,
rear ends lifted too
The great-grandsons of General Robert E. Lee
are making love with a little help from STP
Their women on the porches comparing alibis
Greasy eggs and bacon,
bumper stickers aimed to start a fight,
full gun racks, Confederate caps,
if you want some 'shine
well, you can always find some more,
but what I remember most is the colour of Suzy's door
And Suzy says she's up there
cutting carrots still
And Suzy says she's missing me
so I'm missing Oregon Hill
A river to the south
to wash away all sins
A college to the east of us
to learn where sin begins
A graveyard to the west of it all
which I may soon be lying in
'Cause to the north there is a prison
which I've come to call my home,
but some Monday morning no country song
will sing me home again
And Suzy says she's up there
cutting carrots still
And Suzy says she's missing me
so I'm missing Oregon Hill
Sunday morning, eight A.M.,
sirens fill the air
Sounds like someone made the river
Sounds like someone being born again
Me, I'm just lying here in Suzy's bed
Baptists celebratin' with praises to the Lord,
Rednecks doin' it with gin
Me and Suzy, we're celebratin'
the joy of sleeping in
because tomorrow I'll be home again
But Suzy says she'll wait there
cutting carrots by the window sill
And Suzy says, 'Always think of me
when you think of Oregon Hill'

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

My town, Lompoc, the place where I (mostly) grew up has so many of the things mentioned in the song above, a prison, a college, a river, Pine street, Baptists and Rednecks. I thought of this as I walked around the old section of town yesterday while getting new tires put on the truck. The old town is full of little tiny houses tightly packed together, each with a small separate garage, all made of wood. Intricate and lush gardens are in the yards of most of these houses, and as I walked, the scent of sweet peas came to me. As I strolled past an old woman digging grasses out of the sidewalk cracks with an asparagus knife; a cigarette dangling from her mouth I thought of the old adage "you can never go back". And yes, although I like the walk, and the looks of the town, I much prefer our canyon with it's wilderness enfolding us.
I walked into the shop of some old friends I have not seen for a couple of decades, they were the glue that held our little 'Sheriff's Search and Rescue' team together. I was a member for a short time, and went with them on some rescues and recoveries. We talked of old times, walks in the woods, and her work with the 'Hug-a-Tree Foundation', that teaches children lost in the woods to hug a tree and sit and wait to be rescued.
The town is full of the rich tapestry of life; I walked past Florio's Carneceria, the Mexican meat market, decorated with a huge Mexican flag. I had an uncle Florian who died some years ago, he was a special uncle to me, big and strong, a woodsman who lived for a time in a log cabin he built himself in the woods. He'd worked for years in the Canadian woods, and had a build like Jack La Lane back in the old days.
I continued my walk past the VIVA House, the 'Volunteers for Inter-Valley Animals' has a 'Sylvester House', built to accommodate the cats that are abandoned. Many are the women who donate time and money to the cause of local animals. I think you can tell a lot about the values of a people by the way they treat the lowest of themselves, including their animals. In this and so many other respects I have to give Lompoc very high marks indeed.
As I was leaving VIVA a Sheriff drove by slowly, he spent a long time at the stop sign, watching me through his mirrors. To him I am a stranger in this town, regardless of how many times I have walked and driven these streets. He slowly drove away, while I walked on, content in the sights, smells and memories a little trip down 'Memory Lane' gave me.
God bless the small towns, and the people who live in them.
For an interesting perspective on the Minimal level Prison Camp in Lompoc visit Michael Santos's website, he is an inmate serving time at the camp (not to be confused with the Maximum Security Level Penitentiary located next door.

Rivenrock Cactus Gardens

Video of the environs of Rivenrock Cactus Gardens. We are organically certified and raise edible organic cactus leaves for eating.

Rivenrock Treecutting

We had some large Monterey Pine trees that were in the way of our goals to become a large productive organic cactus farm. Allejandro came over and did the cutting, he's a pro tree trimmer, and while I could have cut them down, the power lines were too close to risk a direct cutting. So Allejandro had to climb up and top them and reduce them bit by bit for safety.