I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend. (J.R.R.Tolkien, The Two Towers)

When I carry a gun, I don't do so because I am looking for a fight, but because I'm looking to be left alone. The gun at my side means that I cannot be forced, only persuaded. I don't carry it because I'm afraid, but because it enables me to be unafraid. It doesn't limit the actions of those who would interact with me through reason, only the actions of those who would do so by force.

Marko Kloos "Why the Gun is Civilization"

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

New use for recycled tires AKA Dog Tired

This is the old tire made into a flowerbed that is sometimes the bed of the wayward hound dog.

This is the wayward hound dog I've been trying all summer to snap a picture of in his bed.

This is the wayward hound dog that would just love to get his teeth in me.

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At 8:15 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh the restless hound is a wayward hound
A wayward hound, who yearns to waaaaander,
Oh I hear the sound,
Of the wayward hound
He's chasin' me down, that wayward hound

You did this to me, Mr. Harold. Now I can't get it out of my head!

We have a friend who ran the Fritz Home for Wayward Nuns, kind of a halfway house for women religious who'd left the convent. They never chased anyway down though, or not to my knowledge, anyway.


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