The Hunger Moon

Don't know about ya'll... but this dollar thing is gettin' wearisome. Purt near worn out its welcome for sure. The Indians used to have lots of different names for the winter season. January was the Howling Wolf Moon... February the Hunger Moon.

They pretty much all referred in some way to bein' cold, hungry and losin' weight. Pushin' cows you watched 'em losin' pounds all winter... and then poured it to 'em late so they'd be gainin' come the spring.

Here's hopin' there'll be something to be Pourin' 'round here come late winter!

Till then, what does a motorized boondocker do when the paper that funds the go juice to operate the motors runs thinner than the generosity of a mother-in-laws heart? ... uh... not much.

One thing is, you pull the blankets out from their compartment to make a nice thick cover and leave the thermostat in the wait to warm up for morning coffee position to save propane for sure and for certain!

There's enough groceries in the fridge and cupboard to feed on for the next pair of weeks... if I don't eat most of the second one :) and there's diesel in the truck and gas in the bike... for plenty of rollin'... as long as I don't go no where! :)

With lots of time for thinkin'... I've calculated that there might could be a couple of advantages to not moving around a whole lot. Which helps make not moving around much reasonably palatable... assuming of course I snooker myself into believing my own yarn!

First, machinery don't break nigh as often when it's sitting parked! :)  So on top of saving fuel dollars that weren't there in the first place... there's fewer repairs to do! Ain't that slick?

and then...

you'd think such a long quiet time would be just prime for a fella to sit down and carve out some good stories wouldn't you? Well I thought so too!

Turns out... yes and no... there's plenty of time... but...

You see... when you're backbone is buffin' up the back side of your belly button it kind of creates a distraction to shapin' words into admirable stories. The noise is a fearful scrapin' sound and the vibrations tickle so bad you can't sit still in front of the keyboard for more than six minutes at a time...

Now... Ya'll might could think I'm just yarnin' here... but I Vow! It be a true tale. The only saving grace is that such poverty is 'bout the only protection from the D.C. scavengers and their parasitic fining ways for failing to sign up for the double priced savings on their latest Poh-lit-i-cuhl scam.

Yup! There won't be no fat cat's squeezin' this rooster... you can only get so much nuthin' out of an empty bucket! Haw Haw Haw! :)

Pursuin' the Cowboy Diet (1 Jar peeled air, 2 cups of dehydrated water, stir in 3 pieces of tenderized rawhide and salt to taste)
Brian