Still, no time. I’ve lost a month, maybe two, in projects and to-do. Now I risk missing the whole spring to more of the same. And yet, in spring, it’s never all that bad.
There will always be time for baking delicious bread, and making fabulous cheese. Even in the midst of kitchen face-lift chaos, the healthy food must go on.
Quinoa-rosemary sourdough made with potato water Fantastic!
Still, no time, but still want to share some quick happy snaps and briefest of updates, because I’d hate to be totally forgotten before even gone! 😊
It was a beautiful day, so I decided to take the scenic route to the herdshare where I pick up one gallon of raw milk at the cost of $15, that’s about a 1 hour round-trip. On this day, it took more like 3, with multiple occasions for nearly getting stuck in the mud. But it was very scenic and an adventure to boot!
Excuse me, sir, might I pass?
Apparently they get much more rain than we do and the scenic route proved impassable.
But the cows didn’t seem to mind.
Meanwhile back on the wee homestead, Patty has had a big brood!
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And the wild cherry has never looked so good! I wish I could get a better pic.
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We’re spending so much on our interior face-lift the roosters are taking over, no time to reduce their numbers, the benefit being, no sleeping in.
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The garden is growing so fast, and the citrus and magnolias I planted last year are just now sprouting. But all that for another post, too much to do!
Hope all’s springing with y’all, thanks for stopping by!
Another fixer-upper on the route to my herdshare. Looks a bit over our pay grade.
How about this one, also on the route?
Destined to become a Black Heritage museum, so they say! 😆
What is the difference between Hope, and Hopium? There’s a fuzzy line and it’s very easy to misjudge, but it’s located somewhere between: “Yay, Trump will save us all from $11/dozen eggs!” And “We should start a chicken mega-ranch.”
If those two meet in the middle of the road, might creative minds find that they’ve absent-mindedly crossed with logic and conclude a few laying hens might be just the ticket? A bit of self-sufficiency, why not? After all, it’s not rocket science . . .
Joel Salatin exposes the WEF agenda! “Josh Sigurdson talks with Joel Salatin of Polyface Farms, an entrepreneur and farmer who for years has fought against Monsanto, factory farming and dependence pushing for people to homestead and/or farm and not be dependent on the system. We previously interviewed Joel in 2017 regarding Monsanto. Now, 8 years later, we delve into the massively expanded technocratic grid as more than ever, people are dependent on grocery stores, the grid and AI, weakened by design. The World Economic Forum agenda is to destroy self sustainability and make people weak slaves to technocracy. Eventually they want food rations and carbon credit scores. They’re already being rolled out to some degree and with the 2024 United Nations Pact For The Future, this problem is encroaching quicker than ever. The climate lobby attempting to bring down farms is more alive than ever. There are solutions however which Joel Salatin has spent decades teaching people. There is also a rumor circulating that Joel Salatin was picked to head the USDA. He explains this and more in this interview.”
Though it is the gateway livestock, and that’s official, I’ve even heard it repeated by the official fact-checkers at NASA.
Don’t worry, more government will save us! They will VAXX this FLU away, similar to the way they spray on the weather!
Respiratory diseases? I can’t imagine how that might be happening! So baffling!
But as James Corbett points out, chickens are the simple solution, but not necessarily the Easy one.
Most folks will take the easy way out, drink the Kool-aid, puff the Hopium, and exclaim RFKJ is here to save the day. Cheap eggs and healthy injections on the way!
A post for Valentine’s Day, something I’ve never done before, as far as I recall.
I imagine it as an Ode to Narcissus, which is my own personal meaning attached to this holiday. Through the Greek myth we are told that Narcissus fell in love with his reflection in a pool of water and up to modern times there are myriad explorations for what that represents.
Most often in our modern era it’s considered a negative thing—a forsaking of the beloved or even God, or the destructive self-love of a tyrannical ego, or the folly of youth.
Echo and Narcissus, oil on canvas by Nicolas Poussin, 1627 (Louvre, Paris)
But for myself, I imagine its original intent as being more pure and innocent. I don’t imagine the Greek myths were to be taken as literal stories of living people and Gods, but rather the mysteries and processes of Nature.
Eros is Cupid, but I imagine that what’s being unveiled between these 3 figures is depicting the process, the mystery, the intimate and delicate balance with Cupid (Eros) manifesting through Narcissus’ love of beauty and pleasure.
That something bigger than we mere mortals is occurring when we fall in love, sometimes even against our own will, awakens and evokes the spirit of Eros. A natural force so powerful we think of it as a drug, capable of making us behave in uncharacteristic, undesirable and even dangerous ways.
Narcissus is in love with love, which is to say, in love with life.
In the water, a classic symbol of emotion, he truly saw himself in the spirit of divine love.
The latest modern remaking of The Picture of Dorian Gray.
What came after that initial myth were the modern cultural assaults and chronic misunderstandings cursing him with egoism, arrogance, selfishness, cruelty, taken to the extremes of self-absorption, self-loathing and eventually self-destruction, as in The Picture of Dorian Gray. Eros as uncontrolled self-obsession.
My belief is that to fall in love with anything, or anyone, is to fall in love with oneself; that is, an aspect of one’s own reflection. Just as Narcissus is our first flower to appear in spring (it’s blooming right now in fact) Narcissus symbolizes the coming reawakening of all our natural pleasures as spring approaches and life is renewed.
Before the Easter ritual of fecundity, first the pair must meet, and fall in love.
In celebrating the courting rituals, it’s the one holiday that’s not considered a family affair, and conjures an atypical respect for intimacy in our mass-loving modern culture.
To me it is a holiday of guilty pleasures, quirky pursuits, strange beliefs and peculiar tastes.
What’s your pleasure? Do you indulge it enough? Or perhaps, too much? Narcissus wants to know!
Do you prefer the cake or the icing?
Immediate reward or delayed gratification?
Are you the driver or the passenger?
Is ‘fun’ the same as pleasure?
Is your pleasure a particpatory adventure, or to be delivered on a silver tray?
Active or passive?
Photography or painting? Reading or writing? Listening or singing?Watching or playing? Cooking or eating? Looking or being seen?
Is there one without the other? Is there the other without the one?
A personal story of guilty pleasures.
A fine restaurant, with a fine atmosphere, and fine company, is my guiltiest pleasure of all. I’d spend lavishly without reserve, relish with abandon, obsess over every detail, waste hours, or weekends without a second thought. Dionysus takes the reigns when I experience such exquisite care, such regard for pleasure and beauty, I’m easily swept away. (And unfortunately, just as easily disappointed.).
Hubby did not know that about me. How could he possibly, he’d only known me a week or so.
Perhaps it’s not such an unusual thing, considering the love affair with food that’s shared across seemingly all cultures, if not always appreciated to the same degree with all people.
I’ll forever cherish the singular date when Hubby won me over, especially because I know the chances of something remotely similar ever happening again are microscopic. It was one of those one in a million evolutionary occurrences, kind of like the Big Bang.
As we all know, it just takes one miracle.
He planned it to the letter—chose the best restaurant, actually went there in advance to choose the best table overlooking the water, spoke to the chef personally, tipped the maitre’d in advance.
Who does that? I mean, I would probably, but who else? Only in the movies, right?
It wasn’t on Valentine’s Day, there was no chocolate or champagne. But I did drink too much, and he swiftly transformed into my white knight on a scooter. He was the crafter of the most perfectly romantic night of my life. And romantic is not something he’s ever aspired to, by any standards, and by his own admission.
Like I said, just one miracle. Perhaps a little help from Cupid?
I was ho-hum before that. Not that he wasn’t a good catch, of course. Certainly loads of divorced 30-something women are attracted to a man who finds it to be bragging material that his belongings fit into a backpack with few aspirations besides spending half the year in a hammock on a Thai beach.
We had a lot in common, as in we were both fairly uncommon vagabonds. Not trust-fund kids or military brats, that was most common in the ex-pat scenes in those days. We worked and scrimped and hustled and snubbed our noses at such privilege, when we could afford to. Otherwise we enjoyed their parties and their company and their contacts.
We met at one such fancy affair, and he wasn’t my type, that’s how I saw it in the moment. Not because of any of those previously mentioned assets, those I actually found pretty charming, especially that he would be bragging on them with a woman he’d just met. I was far more impressed with his stories of rugged adventure than any of other’s comfort and privilege.
Not our photo, though we do have great ones, somewhere. This one is from kingscup.com
But I was just barely out of another failed relationship; I just wasn’t on the market, according to me.
He perceived otherwise. I dare say, I have never been pursued with such seemingly carefree precision. He is/was not ever a lady’s man, had less relationship experience than me, and was not there looking for love.
It didn’t help that my just-failed relationship was with a photographer, and that he was there as another photographer’s assistant. Of course I noticed he was fit and handsome and friendly and funny. I imagined we could become friends, maybe even friends with benefits. My imagination stopped there.
This is a stock photo, the resorts we stayed in were even more glorious.
We bumped into each other often, as would be expected, since we were all covering the Phuket King’s Cup Regatta. They had us all staying in top resorts, sailing the seas by day and attending parties every night. It was amazing and overwhelming and so deliciously extravagant and foreign.
Even under such conditions, he was able to corral my attentions, redirect my intentions, and totally capture my life’s trajectory (as dismal as that was looking at the time considering I was living in an old, drafty single-wide in my dad’s trailer park in Mena, Arkansas.)
Though I’m sure he won’t admit it and questions who was doing the seducing, I will still insist, it surely wasn’t me. Narcissus, perhaps?
We are told it’s human nature to pursue pleasure and to recoil from pain. But all around us we have plenty of evidence that’s not the case at all. In honest observation it looks much more true that pain and pleasure have a very mysterious relationship that is quite unique to each individual.
I personally will not allow the Dorian Gray’s of the world to eternally spoil the beauty of Narcissus, so I celebrate Valentine’s Day as a gateway into the new season’s promise of pleasure.
Happy Valentine’s Day to all the Lovers of Love, Beauty, Pleasure and Life!
It’s been quite a long time since an update on the wee homestead projects and activities; it’s hard to know where to start! How about, for consistency sake, I bitch about the weather for a bit, and then move along to better tidings.
Of course the geoengineered chem-filled skies continue, as does our Yo-Yo season (formerly known as winter). We are using the air conditioning now, it’s been 80 degrees for days.
Buttercup is especially sensitive to the YoYo, to the point of regular getting seizures at such times, also lethargic and losing her appetite.
Buttercup hiding in her box all day.
There was of course the lows not long ago in the 20s and I was very concerned for the newly planted citrus. We employed quite the set up of lights and covers and they faired very well, I’m happy to report.
Invasion of Asian beetles on the citrus cover
But there has been a bad invasion of these awful beetles, which we’re vacuuming off the ceiling multiple times a day. Not to be confused with the garden-friend, the lovely little lady bugs, NO, these little beasts are really nasty. They infest, as obvious from the photos, and they bite, and as if that’s not enough, they stink.
I don’t like when folks call them lady bugs, they are not at all ladylike, so I try to correct them anytime I hear complaints, which is more often than you might think. The reaction I get is much more open and accepting than when I inform them about the manufactured weather.
Old lettuce bolting, replacing with new lettuce started under lights indoors, along with broccoli and cauliflower.
It does keep us on our toes, dealing with the Yo-Yo. Lettuce and herbs bolt prematurely quite often, seedlings come up then freeze or wither. We never know from week to week what to expect or how to plan.
I don’t normally have such a fancy setup, but these trays were gifted to me and they’re working quite well germinating some lobelia and snap dragons.
My indoor lights and heating mats make things easier, as does the row cover in the garden, but it is constant juggling. And if I miss a beat, death. Like happened with the Mexican oregano I was so proud of. I forgot about it outside one night when it frosted. Very disappointing considering our long journey of discovery, and how long I babied those few little sprouts, trying to anticipate their every need, carting them inside for warmth, then outside for sun and wind, and just when they were getting their legs, gone. All my fault.
Well, except for the geoengineers, because I wouldn’t be doing this constant refrain if our weather was consistent or predictable or seasonal.
I’ve tried twice since then to sprout the herb again with no luck. I will succeed eventually, of course, we’ve come too far in our quest to fail. The Mexican oregano has a long tale in these parts. Failure is not an option. More on that in the last HH post, if you like. https://kenshohomestead.org/2024/11/14/homestead-happenings-43/
I’d like to say it was the same with the milk quest. Unfortunately, I’m not nearly as confident; I feel failure is probably inevitable and maybe even imminent. For the time being I’m counting my blessings I’ve found another (perhaps temporary) source. Last time I was complaining about the cost, this one is even more expensive at $15/gallon. At that price I’m not going to be experimenting with any new cheeses, that’s for sure. To make cheese at all is not really feasible, except for the most delicious of selections—Camembert. Otherwise the precious commodity goes toward morning coffee, ice cream, and buttermilk for recipes and the extended expiration date.
Camembert to be draining before salting
I’ve been doing continued research on the topic of raw milk and what’s available and in general, where’s the market vibe. I found one young entrepreneur with a private herdshare selling cheese for $25 a pound. (A Herdshare Agreement or a Grade A license from the state are the only ways to sell raw milk in Texas legally.).
With my new herdshare deal I can buy more milk for cheesemaking, if I’m willing to pay $15/gallon. Considering the hard cheeses I typically made were 5 gallons ideally (better for aging in less than optimal conditions), that’s a really expensive cheese.
Certainly what can be made on-site are far better cheeses than can be bought at the store; that’s why I started making cheese in the first place. But still, it’s really hard to justify all that work, and expense, when we can still buy organic cheese for about $8/pound.
I will splurge one time in late spring, if possible, when the grass is thick and so the milk most rich. And we do still have two goats, hopefully pregnant, so there’s a small hope of cheesemaking in my future, if all goes well.
Moving on to the garden, the garlic is going strong and I’ve just got the onions in, 3 big rows of each. The garlic we plant is elephant garlic which does so much better here than any other variety I’ve tried, and I’ve tried lots. These are local for over a decade now and their productivity has yet to disappoint.
The onions are from purchased sets and they normally do well, though some years are a bust, like last year. I also started some from seed under lights, to compare if they are more consistent and adaptable, because the sets have gotten pricey in recent years and it’s irritating to pay good money for possible failure. Onions do not like Yo-Yo weather, but then again, who or what really does?
At least some seem to tolerate it better than others. We’ve got a couple of ‘oyster trees’ that are bringing us regular tasty gifts.
I’ve also tried a couple new things that have been long on my list. There’s the soap that’s just now cured, a bit earlier than I’d read is typical. I’m really pleased with it! It lathers very well and the scent is rather sensuous. My intention was something earthy and erotic, and I think I succeeded.
I got the sensual part down, now I need to up the aesthetic! Trust me, looks are deceiving here, I just need better molds! Never underestimate the power of packaging, eh?
After finishing up slaughter season and chopping up downed trees for a month, Hubby has moved on to a far more desirable and needed project, according to me, our kitchen! Yippie!
We’ve needed new countertops badly for many years, ours have been well-worn in 40 years, especially since we’ve gotten here and the space went from softly used a few times a year, to a daily year-round assault. It’s actually pretty impressive the counters aren’t near dust by now, considering how quickly more modern materials fall apart.
New island done, now for the hard part.
Old, ugly, not square or plumb . . . Good times coming in Hubby’s near future!
New countertops got us on a roll and now we’re planning new light fixtures and maybe even a new paint job. Big ideas, perhaps not backed up by time or commitment.
Those big ideas, I’m full of ‘em! In my mind the kitchen’s already painted and my next project is to paint the table, which I’ve wanted (and once tried) to do for as long as we’ve had it. I can imagine I might have a table with a surface that looked something like this . . .
But I’d be perfectly willing to settle for this . . .
Or this . . .
So, after I repaint the kitchen in the few spare moments between juggling plants in YoYo season, I acquire the skills of an artist, and paint something I can really be proud of . . .
Whenever I’m finally able to manage that, y’all will be the first to know!
In the meantime, here’s where we were at in the last update . . .
Back to this unpleasant subject again. It’s been a very long loop; I haven’t considered it much since first attempting to barter goods from the wee homestead.
It’s something we really do take for granted in our modern economy, whether one takes that as an inherent good or evil.
The good part is that it’s comfortable and I prefer it, on the surface. I hate bartering. I SO suck at it. I suck at it for reasons that are so deeply-seated (seeded?) that no logic can ever possibly be applied.
On travels to some countries barter was the norm and I was told to keep practicing as I’d get better at it. Some seem to enjoy it. These sorts always baffled me. They say, “Treat it like a game!” But that is really stupid, isn’t it, because I did not go out shopping in order to play a game. I already don’t like shopping much, to think I’d like it more by making it game-like is to make it ever closer to hellish.
So while it may not sound like it, this is the good side of money. It took me a long time to learn that. Not until I had to consider such exchanges as, which was of better or equal value, the handcrafted Top bar beehive, or the wormy, bossy, but still a good milker, Summer, a 7-year old goat?
Money, in partnership with “the Market”, make such exchanges far more simple. Since none of us has a crystal ball, and I have no idea how long Summer will live and there are no guarantees, and my friend has no idea if she’ll enjoy beekeeping, or be able to keep bees alive in our chemskies and YoYo climate, our exchange is made more simple by imagining what would be the ‘market value’ of each of our offerings.
The dark side of money it seems to me relates quite easily to the dark side of most things—like religion, or science, or even education—it provides, by its very nature, an endless potential for ‘middlemen’. It becomes a profession, then a vast sea of professions, then an institution, then an institution ‘too big to fail’.
It’s convenient and comfortable, no doubt about it. It’s easy enough for a child to use, but complex enough to build empires upon. Try to imagine living without it.
Do we really consider how we, as individuals, would place value upon goods and services anymore?
What about once money is replaced with tokens. It’s pretty much the same thing already, right? Tokens as a medium of value exchange—your massage is worth 2 dozen yard eggs. Right?
Well, the market value of your massage today is 20 tokens, but the value of my eggs is 10 tokens, today, and 15 tokens last week, and is projected to be 25 tokens tomorrow. That’s the real problem with the market, right? For you and I, as individuals deciding value between us, the eggs and massage exchange didn’t fluctuate vastly over a matter of days, or even weeks. It’s pretty steady, really. You use 2 dozen eggs per week, I like 1 massage per week, stable value exchange.
But I’ll bet you 5 economists in the room with us would tell us 50 ways it’s not really a stable value exchange. And, why be stable at all if there might be a profit to make? Then a dozen lawyers will tell us why those economists are right. And a nation full of universities will continue to produce a fat muffin top of middlemen to stuff between every simple interpersonal transaction in every tiny hamlet around the world.
I’m bothering to restate the obvious at this moment because I’m trying to re-assess the value of technology in my life. It started with the recurring headaches of social media many years ago, then moved to Smart phones, and lately it’s WordPress.
Then a cyber-friend shared a dream, which caused this spark of inquiry.
“Imagine if we could create an Agrarian world again, using technology as a tool to help us, but not control or surveil us.”
Can we make a more agrarian life through technology? Which I understand as, can technology help us to get back to basics? And by basics we mean an understanding of nature, an appreciation of its organic processes, a “re-enchantment” as I’ve heard it lovingly expressed, with the natural world. Working with our hands again, I presume, creating items of value to exchange with one another. A slower life perhaps, where we have the great luxury of time to enjoy our lives and our nature world to a greater degree than afforded to most in the modern world.
A ‘re-enchantment’ with nature, I like the sound of that.
An ‘agora’ that’s not corrupted by fiat, usury, taxes, violence and coercion, perhaps?
Technology in our private life here on the wee homestead has benefitted us in a few crucial ways—helping us to learn new skills has been the most significant. But keeping us from feeling terribly remote and unconnected and uninformed has also been very important. I’ve made a few good friends thanks to the internet and I’m very grateful for that. Feelings of isolation and loneliness can be significant spiritual hurdles for some of us living rural for the first time.
And I have seen promising shifts over the years. Homesteading is clearly a bonafide cultural movement at this time, I think primarily thanks to technology, as oxymoronic as that sounds. Herbalism has become more appealing as Pig Pharma breathes heavier down our necks. Pockets of interest and learning are all over the cyber world, every craft, trade or skill imaginable is available somewhere with a few clicks, I’m sure.
But I have seen and heard some really concerning trends lately, which makes me realize that the time to be re-assessing the value of the tech in our lives is reaching a crescendo.
For example, the young entrepreneurial types who are coming in to fill the needs of the rural communities with essentials like raw milk, homegrown veggies at the farmer’s market, small service businesses and the like, well they aren’t like us in some really fundamental ways.
They trust The Science, for the most part, evident in their willingness to vaccinate, medicate, use the latest supplements and vitamins, and not question any of it. They also love the tech and fully embrace the insane trifecta of the Global Grid: Surveillance cameras, Smart phones and digital payment systems.
How is that value assessed? Who is benefitting more?
My guess would be, more often than not, the middlemen. Like any pyramid scheme a few must be making good for anyone else to follow. For a while.
Seems to me these young entrepreneurs are setting themselves up for certain failure. I met one of these ambitious young women last week on my quest for raw milk, now that my goats are mostly gone. I really miss making cheese. The price of raw milk, not even organic, has gone through the roof as demand has perked up—$11/gallon around here. It’s too much for us to afford.
What did I learn from this experience? Her surveillance cameras everywhere tell me she doesn’t trust her customers or neighbors. Her vaccination schedule tells me she does not do her due diligence in caring for her animals. Her price and her preferred payment by QR code tells me she prefers dealing with middlemen over direct transactions and getting to know her clientele.
I will not be doing any business with her, that’s for sure.
So, while I still have a lot to learn about assessing value, there is a point to this rather rambling post: The goat is dead, no bees have yet to make that hive a home—but no one else profited or lost from that private exchange—and our relationship stayed in tact to trade another day despite these apparent failures. I think nations have gone to war for less.
And that’s something so far social media, Smart phones, WordPress, and indeed money, all fail to assess a proper value.
I’d love to hear any thoughts or ramblings about my cyber-friend’s dream, what do y’all think, is it possible? Would you want such a world?
“Imagine if we could create an Agrarian world again, using technology as a tool to help us, but not control or surveil us.”
How long before this field gets paved over for yet another Vape Shop, or Dollar Store, or Walgreens?
Is it considered an improvement if it’s a Smart Farm run from Brussels by robots?
Folks keep sipping on their Hopium bottles despite all evidence pointing to a big, fat, juicy Nothing Burger.
The States are outlawing Geoengineering! Even Texas has jumped on board! Nonsense. This will have zero impact, not even the Texas Weather Modification Association cares about these new ‘laws’ or proposals, because they know they won’t stop anything, or go anywhere.
Individual states continue to ‘ban’ Geoengineering. Dane Wiggington continues to pretend this will make some great awakening happen and folks will begin brandishing their proverbial pitchforks after decades of silent tolerance and cowardly sniveling.
This is nothing more than posturing and stalling and making themselves feel better. It may also be their opportunity to file lawsuits against the chaos-creating of these public-private partnerships poisoning the atmosphere, destroying infrastructure and ruining people’s lives.
If they happen to profit from continuing to sell their airspace to the highest bidder we can rest assured that Ordinary folk will never see a dime from those lawsuits.
“I live in TN and have been emailing the governor regarding the fact that they are definitely still spraying and today emailed Steve Southerland who sponsored the bill. Here was his response. Thank you for reaching out about SB 2691. The Tennessee Department of Environment and Conservation has notified us that they will not be enforcing this law. I recommend that you reach out to Governor Lee’s office to voice your support for the bill. This is his office number: (615) 741-2001. I would say unbelievable, but I can’t say that I’m surprised. I knew it seemed too good to be true.”
Too good to be true? Read that again: “The Tennessee Department of Environment and Conservation has notified us that they will not be enforcing this law.” They can’t even get the cooperation of their own State’s environmental protection agency! Come on people!
NOAA does not recognize any “spraying” EVER. Even when they are actually spraying for “legitimate” weather modification. That is, for the operations they recognize, which is primarily cloud-seeding for snow augmentation and hail/fog suppression.
From their own Q & A section:
“What if I see streaks in the sky and I think someone is modifying the weather? These are contrails, produced by planes. Contrails are the condensed products of combustion and vapor generated by airplanes traveling at higher altitudes where the atmosphere is colder. They have been prominent atmospheric features since the beginning of jet plane travel in the early part of the twentieth century. Official observations of contrails were made just after World War I as planes began to fly at high altitudes. NOAA does not have federal responsibility for regulating airplane exhaust, and we do not manage the National Air Space. The Environmental Protection Agency establishes aircraft emissions standards for any air pollution that could endanger public health and welfare, pursuant to the Clean Air Act. The Federal Aviation Administration administers and enforces emissions standards FAA factsheet (pdf)”
Weather Modification Project Reports – Weather and Climate Collections – NOAA Library at National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration
One need only to recognize the typical pattern of the Federal/State/Local deliberate, yet unofficial, quagmire which we see at play at any level we choose to observe.
For example, something as simple as cannabis laws. For another example, any crime against humanity ever committed.
Politics as usual, it’s a game of Hot Potato, like when Clinton was governor of Arkansas and claimed the Iran-Contra “Scandal” was a Federal issue and then when he became President declared it to be a State issue. After many, many millions of taxpayer funding was spent on ‘investigations’ and nothing changed and no one implicated got more than a slap on the wrist. (Or murdered, for those who found themselves on the wrong side of their game.)
In fact, it was International Organized Crime, just as Geoengineering is. That the “environmental” agencies play along just shows they know what’s really at stake and aren’t willing to lift even a pinkie finger for the public good.
They will continue to play Hot Potato with these international crimes against humanity.
And it’s about far more than just the weather, as if that wasn’t enough already.
For those willing to do some due-diligence:
death by aluminum – the toxic aluminum thread that connects vaccines, 5G, dew’s, geoengineering and ‘wildfires’
It’s time-consuming, but it’s so worthwhile. The Nourishing Hearthfire has posted a useful and instructive article.
I’m lucky, Hubby takes care of the rendering here. In addition to tallow making the best French fries, I also made my first soap with it. I use it for creams, salves and balms. I use lard in baking and it also makes for a good soap and lotion ingredient, and leaf lard is also great for pastries.
The plot thickens, and twists. This time we learn from Wiki that after the Columbia Space Shuttle disintegrated re-entering Earth’s atmosphere, there were indeed body remains found after all. According to this source, the remains of all of the bodies of the astronauts were found. Someone should really share that info with Rich Husband’s people.
Kalpana Chawla, our next look at astronaut lore, was also a music lover. She served as the shuttle’s flight engineer. She was married to Jean-Pierre Harrison, who has written a book about her and is the president of two dubious-looking companies for which I was able to find no information.
“Steve Morse of the band Deep Purple released the song “Contact Lost” in 2003 in memory of the Columbia disaster.[50] Chawla took three Deep Purple albums on STS-107, using their song “Space Truckin’” as a wakeup call. One of their albums was found in the shuttle’s wreckage.”
Wow, so an entire album was discovered, as well as a CD. She had room for 3 albums, and clearly must have had a player for those. These space shuttles must be roomier than a magic bus! I wonder if they ever had arguments over who got to choose the ‘wake-up’ music. I know that much Deep Purple and I’d definitely be wishing for some disintegration.
She was accused of screwing up during the previous mission, but was given a second chance. On a YT video of day 4 of that mission we learn that one of her colleague’s favorite songs is from a popular Japanese television show about puppets in space.
“Chawla first flew on Space Shuttle Columbia in 1997 as a mission specialist and robotic armoperator aboard STS-87. Her role in the flight caused some controversy due to the failed deployment of the Shuttle-Pointed Autonomous Research Tool for Astronomy (“Spartan”) module. Chawla’s second flight was in 2003 on STS-107, the final flight of Columbia.”
In an interview about her previous mission the reporter writes:
“We’d be very foolish if we tried to second-guess or tried to figure out what the actual turn of events were without having all the information… We’re six folks up here, we know what happened on our side, we’ll get together with the folks on the ground and we’ll put the whole story together and make sure it never happens again. Sure, we’re always a bit disappointed if we don’t get the full mission accomplished, but we did retrieve the satellite, and so the important thing is we’re bringing Spartan back down to Earth and it’ll get to fly another day.”
It’ll get to fly another day. And so will Chawla, but apparently just the one.
She is now in Zion, her final resting place being Zion National Park, Utah.
In our last post we took a look at Laurel Blair Salton Clark and learned that human bodies and space shuttles disintegrate at different laws of physics than CDs, which are now nearly lost to time, but apparently not to space.
Moving on to the hero of the story, we have Rich Husband, Commander of the mission. He had an illustrious career as a fighter pilot and astronaut and is accredited with a long list of honors and awards and even has a statue.
But what some may not know is he also was an actor. He played himself in a series called Our Jewish Roots in 2003. His wife, Evelyn, has also played herself in numerous programs. Unfortunately as miraculous as our cyber world is, I can’t find a way to view this episode; it doesn’t even seem to be available for purchase.
Rick Husband – IMDb
His also the subject of an episode about the failed Columbia mission, played by actor Brian David, born September 11, 1965 in Kansas City MO and appearing in 3 films in 2004, 2005, 2006 one quite popular. But he’s not in any recent films. Quite a handsome fellow, I wonder what happened to him.
Running To The Light, Columbia Space Shuttle, Modern Myths
I came across this photo on our nearby city map and found it so compelling I thought to do a few post about it. This is from Palestine, Texas. The Columbia Space Shuttle was reported to have exploded over this area of East Texas killing all these crew members.
Rick D. Husband, Commander; Kaplan’s Chawla, Mission Specialist; David M. Brown, Mission Specialist I; Williams C. McCool, Pilot; Michael P. Anderson, Payload Commander; Lian Ramon, Payload Specialist I; Laurel Blair Salton Clark, Mission Specialist 4.
We will start with the latter, Laurel Blair Salton Clark, Mission Specialist 4 Wiki page:
The Scottish band Runrig pays tribute to Clark on the 2016 album The Story. The final track, “Somewhere”, ends with a recording of her voice.[18] Clark was a Runrig fan and had a wake up call with Runrig’s “Running to the Light”. She took their 2001 The Stamping Ground CD into space with her. When the shuttle disintegrated the CD was found back on Earth, and was presented to the band by her family.
