You Know too Many People

I had an interesting dream.

My wife and I were here at the heavily armed, fenced Northern Florida compound (my homey, welcoming name for it), and I was standing by the front door when I saw a big truck in my driveway. I had not let it in.

Right away, I reached for my illegally-modified full-auto AR-15 with the Punisher Trump skull laser engravings on the grips and opened up while quoting Bible verses I misinterpreted in order to justify violence.

Oops. Sorry. For a second there, I thought I was one of the guys who thinks we can shoot our way back to the Fifties.

I don’t have any illegally-modified full-auto firearms. I don’t even have Trump Punisher skulls. Sorry, BATF. I’m not interested in spending a grand every time I shoot steel for 15 minutes. I think one of my neighbors might have something, though. Based on the sounds I hear occasionally.

You should start by investigating the lady across the fence who complained that my shooting disturbed her snowflake horses. I’m pretty sure it’s her. Go no-knock on this one, guys. The earlier in the morning, the better. Just keep your fingers off the trigger, because I could be wrong. It’s actually okay for feds to withhold fire until there is a real problem.

I don’t mean any of that. I don’t wish her problems, but she should respect borders.

I don’t have any guns like that, but it takes like 45 minutes to make one with a Dremel and an Internet printout. When things finally go totally nuts, the number of automatic weapons in the US will skyrocket by a factor of 20 in about a day. Except in the ghettos, where everyone already has a Glock switch and kids fight white supremacy and institutional black genocide by shooting at other black people.

That switch has probably done great things for Glock sales. To the people the guns are stolen from, I mean. They have to replace them, after all.

Forget “Glock perfection.” The new slogan should be, “Glock. Make the switch.”

Pardon the jocularity. I am in a jolly mood this morning. Because I’m not drunk and in pain, unlike most Americans. It’s bowl season, and today many people are hugging one.

I shouldn’t joke about the BATF. They just ransacked a black man’s home for no clear reason, threw bombs into rooms occupied by innocent people, held children at gunpoint, threatened to blow up his gun safe, and left without arresting anyone. They destroyed floors and windows. Their dogs pooped on the victim’s daughter’s bed.

Apparently the training issues in federal law enforcement have spread to the canine agents.

The victims cleaned up the poop themselves. That was unnecessary work. They could have called the FBI crime lab and told them it was important evidence. The FBI would have collected it and lost it.

Not that there is any justification for thinking the feds are high-handed or anything, but, shockingly, if you’re the kind of person who believes CNN is fair, the BATF has not responded to inquiries from the press. I get it. If Uncle Joe doesn’t have to talk to the press, neither do they. I plan to keep checking dictionary sites to see if the leftist editors have gotten around to changing the definition of “transparent.”

The man’s name is Mark Manley. He has a Go Fund Me page.

Joe Biden will surely pardon the agents later in the day, as soon as his wife wakes him up and tells him to. Or maybe someone else has already done it. The thirtyish West Wing transvestites who have actually been running the country since January 20, 2020. “Hold his hand steady. Make the loop on the ‘J’ bigger.”

Is it possible Jeff Dunham is the president?

The victims kind of asked for it. They live in Baltimore. It’s like being in jail and asking to bunk with P Diddy. “Come on, warden. I’m a huge fan. It’s okay if he works on his music. I’m a very heavy sleeper.”

Maybe they’ll join the flood of political refugees and move to my county. Like traffic isn’t bad enough already. I was used to seeing a lot of yankees and other blue state survivors here before 2020, but they were really old. Now it’s entire families. Still in their reproductive years. And Republicans let their babies live. Once an invasive species starts breeding in Florida, you can’t get rid of it.

I hope they’ll open pizzerias. That would soften the pain.

I don’t know why I’m in such a good mood. I need to stop.

So the truck turned out to be a big hurricane-debris truck. We have had two messy storms here since my arrival. The county gives us time to dump trees by the road, and they send huge trucks to pick them up. They have cranes on them to lift the debris and drop it into their beds.

Dumping in beds. BATF. Stop it, self. Let it go.

The truck was inside my gate, which made me feel somewhat territorial, but I let it go, because they started going all over the compound, gathering up the dead wood. They picked up entire burn piles that predated the last storm. I was thrilled.

I suspect the dream had supernatural significance.

In the Bible, trees represent people. A dead tree is an unproductive tree, fit only to be discarded and burned.

In dreams, government employees are usually spirits. The police and the feds are demons. Military people are angels. Government employees who are helpful and pose no threat are on God’s side, and they usually will not talk to you. They already have their orders. They seem happy, and they’re pleasant, but they ignore your efforts to communicate, and they go on with what they’re doing.

Demons are chatty. They like attention. And they rely on the power of lies and threats. They need to talk in order to lie.

I think the county guys in the dream were angels sent to remove useless, destructive people from my life and my wife’s life. The few people who still treat us badly. If so, it’s not a good sign for people I am still entangled with financially. I knew it would not be long before old age got the most difficult ones, but the dream makes me wonder if the time of our disconnection is close.

It’s extremely important to get free of useless people whose only contributions to your life are negative. Sometimes you can’t cut them loose. You can’t put a wife in a dumpster, and you can’t abandon your kids. But most people can be dismissed at will, and you should get rid of the ones who consistently reward you with good for evil.

My dad was a net negative for most of his life, and one day, God told me he had cut him off, meaning his patience was used up.

I knew he had become forgetful, but he was still able to handle his affairs. I had prayed a lot for God to restore him, but after God told me he had been cut off, I quit.

The same year, my dad had to quit practicing law because dementia set in. I was put in charge. We ended up leaving Miami, finally, after years of delay which he caused.

After a while here, his dementia got very bad. At some point around the beginning of 2019, I started feeling that God was saying my dad would be gone before April 1. That was not his medical prognosis, however. His doctors didn’t think his situation was deteriorating all that fast.

When I finally had to put him in a nearby facility, I started to feel bad because I wasn’t praying for his recovery. One day as I drove to see him, I asked God if I could pray for recovery again. I felt it was allowed, so I prayed.

When I saw him the next day, he was much sharper than he had been the day before. He was fighting with the employees. He called his roommate a filthy name in his presence. He had been opening up to God, and he had asked for salvation, but on this day, he told me it was all insincere. He said he had done it to make me happy, which wasn’t true. He disavowed Christianity. He said the Bible was a story book. He radiated his characteristic arrogance.

The dad I had known all my life was back.

I prayed for help, and I got an idea.

I asked my dad if I could pray that God would do whatever had to be done to assure him a good afterlife, and he agreed to let me do it.

The next day, he had slipped backward. The clarity was gone. He was pleasant again. The negative talk about Christianity was gone. I realized God was showing me that some people shouldn’t be healed, because they turn healing into a curse.

Wherefore if thy hand or thy foot offend thee, cut them off, and cast them from thee: it is better for thee to enter into life halt or maimed, rather than having two hands or two feet to be cast into everlasting fire.

This is true of all blessings. Some people can’t be given husbands or wives. Some people can’t be given financial abundance. There are people whose problems are necessary in order for them to remain saved. This is particularly true of the proud. It’s true of people who repent, get what they want, and then forget their repentance.

My dad died three weeks later, in peace, with me at his side and Derek Prince speaking from a laptop. He had recovered his salvation. All the hateful talk about Christianity had been replaced with reverence, gratitude, and enthusiasm.

This was late March. He didn’t make it to April 1.

If he had continued to recover from dementia, he would have died in torment and then gone to hell. He would be burning in humiliation right now, instead of waiting for me and his grandson to join him for eternal life in a place of perfect love.

My dad was a mixed bag. When his mind went and he started to love God, I was thrilled. I loved praying with him and talking to him about God. But the situation couldn’t last. I was alone, and he kept me too busy to progress in my own life. I could have continued visiting him over and over for years, but that wasn’t what God wanted for me.

I keep asking God to change me without chastisement and suffering. I want supernatural change. I want him to be able to give me good things without losing me.

As for the dead trees in my dream, I can understand why God would free me from them.

They don’t disrupt my life the way my dad did, and my situation is absolutely fantastic. I have a wonderful wife. I’m having a child. I’m healthy. We have abundance without working. We live on a dream property in a dream county. We get closer to God all the time, and things continually improve. He keeps correcting us. But while these people can’t keep us from having beautiful lives, they are treacherous and out of place in our circle of acquaintances. We should be big assets to each other, but while I am good to them, they abuse me and my wife, and they have no intention of changing.

They are tiresome, and it would be best if they were replaced by better people who are the opposite of tiresome. Even if they’re not replaced, their absence from my life would be a welcome relief. I’m ready for it. I can’t change their choices, I am in no way responsible for the way they treat me, and I will not be troubled about problems they make for themselves.

As for us, we are planning to fry chicken today. The deep fryer beckons. I’m going to try making twice-fried fries in it for the first time. We can’t find small chickens at Publix, but the local Winn-Dixie had a 4.5-pounder, so I think we’re all set. I’m also making hush puppies because they’re wonderful.

Later on, I may do some shooting out back. When you live in a place like this, every day you fail to shoot is a disgraceful waste.

Maybe God will smile on us in 2025, and his children won’t have to be here on this date in 2026. One can only hope.

Why Does it Taste Like a Dodge Wiring Harness?

I decided to try a Tikka T1x bolt-action .22. It can be my son’s first rifle when he is ready. I’m concerned I may have trouble getting him to pay attention to shooting instruction during the first few weeks of his life. He’ll just have to man up.

As for shooting opportunities here at the compound, targets and things like water bottles and golf balls will always abound, and he will be permitted to kill any animal he sees that isn’t wearing a collar or a saddle.

He won’t be allowed to shoot inside the house, of course, but shooting FROM inside the house will be encouraged, since I do it myself.

Exceptions will be made for home invaders, or as I call them, undocumented guests, and also for those rare times when game finds its way into the living room. It has already happened once.

I chose the T1x because it has a top-notch reputation for accuracy. The other alternative was a Bergara, but the Bergara’s barrel was a little longer than I would have liked. The CZ 457 was also tempting, but in order to get the options I wanted, I would have to accept a 12″ length of pull designed for a 12-year-old. It would have been good for my son, but since I will be the exclusive user of the rifle for, I am estimating, at least two months, he will once again have to man up and deal.

I need a scope now, so I am thinking. It’s not a simple subject.

I was thinking I might go for high magnification because I like seeing what I’m doing at 100 yards, but let’s be honest: there is no reason to shoot targets with a .22 at 100 yards. That far off, it will probably shoot 3 MOA at best, and you learn nothing at all from that kind of spread. I think I will shoot targets at 50 yards and leave it at that.

I do want to be able to see which part of a squirrel I’m aiming at, and I think 12x is about right for that, up to a realistic 50-yard-limit. I am hoping to be able to stay within a one-inch circle at that range without a serious rest. Shooting squirrels is inhumane when you can’t shoot at least that well. I want to be able to tell where my crosshairs are so I can be sure the squirrel will drop even if I’m half an inch off either way.

I’m going to take some of my optics outside and fiddle around at known distances so I can firm up a decision.

To hit things like coons and possums, I should be fine with something in the area of 5x.

Like I always say, nearly all of my grandfather’s good guns mysteriously vanished when my grandmother died, so I didn’t inherit a single one from her, even though I shot with him a lot and the other grandsons did not. My compensation is to get better guns and shoot them better. His .22 rifle was a crusty Remington 550-1, and I have considered getting one, but I was not able to resist buying rifles that were superior in every possible way. The T1x will be the best so far. Comparing it to a 550-1 is like comparing a new Lexus to a Crown Vic at a police auction.

I asked for scope recommendations at a forum for sharpshooters, and naturally they came in with things starting at around $500. I don’t think that’s necessary for this gun. I have some very good glass, and I understand the need for it in some applications, but I’m never going to shoot a thousand yards at twilight with a .22. Or anything else, now that I think about it.

Their recommendations were great, apart from the cost. They know what they’re doing. This country is full of men who can hit a man-sized target over half a mile away, and they are really common in rural areas. There are people shooting .338 Lapua, which is useful at ranges longer than a mile. There are people with night vision headgear, night vision scopes, and thermal scopes.

It makes me want to stay indoors, just writing about it.

The leftists who are most prone to putting on black pajamas and attacking innocent people in cowardly mobs are generally women or men who are a lot like women. Spindly, effeminate, spoiled, and not inclined to masculine pursuits. The country is no place for their fatherless unemployed behavior. A diet of soft urban targets doesn’t prepare them to take on men and women who decorate their homes with other creatures’ heads.

When I bought my first AR-15 here in my rural county, I picked it up at the company’s headquarters. They had a Ma Deuce set up among the displays. That’s legal. And they’re military guys, so it’s not just an ornament. Talk about feeling safe.

It wasn’t like visiting a Target in California and having to step aside while people punch clerks, break glass, and run off with boxes of Prilosec to sell on the sidewalk out front.

If I worked in a building near that place, I know where I’d run if I saw vans full of narcissistic sadists headed my way. I’d only slow down at the register to buy earplugs.

I don’t want to kill anything, but the squirrels have to go. One truck wiring harness is enough. It would be neat if we could be friends, but we tried that, and it didn’t work. At least the crows will feast.

If I hit anything.

I hope I get improved accuracy out of this gun. I’ll feel pretty stupid if it shoots no better than my semiautos.

On the subject of fathers’ gifts to sons, I had a wonderful revelation. A usual, it was something obvious which I already knew, yet which somehow had not made itself part of me. We can’t see the obvious without God’s help.

I realized I should not talk about God and his blessings, as though blessings and God were different things.

We always say we want to do this or that to get God’s blessings. Pray to get God’s blessings. Stay close to him to get his blessings. The truth is that he, personally, is the blessing. The other things are just the natural consequences of being near him.

If you are in God’s presence, you are already blessed. You are wrapped up in love. Because of his love and power, things are going in the right direction for you. Things may not be perfect, but they are headed toward perfection, and they will continue as long as you’re with God.

Knowing him and being with him are what matter.

These things don’t apply if you’re proud. First of all, a proud person can’t be in God’s presence except briefly. He stays far from proud people. Second, when you’re in God’s presence, he gives you revelation, and proud people can’t accept revelation. They can’t learn.

If Satan were in God’s presence, it would be a bad experience for Satan. A human being with air in his lungs and blood in his veins is different. We can surrender and receive help. Forgiveness is available.

God showed me that I have already won. If I stay with him, I’m not just winning. I’ve already won. I’m just watching the victory unfold, one step at a time.

God’s presence should be your top priority, and in order to get it, you have to humble yourself continually. When you get into pride, you push him away and bring demons near, making them your gods and demonized people your masters.

Prayer in unknown tongues is a manifestation of humility. When you do it, you’re admitting you’re too stupid and evil to pray well on your own. You are abandoning your own inner monologue and letting him replace it with his.

I hate being busy. I used to like it. I liked going to work and getting things done. I liked being busy with recreation. Now I feel resentful when I’m busy. It distracts me from God. I miss prayer sessions and receive worthless and harmful things in exchange.

It disturbs me when Christians brag about hard work and long hours. It is bragging. If you’re working 12 hours a day, you can’t possibly be close to God, unless you’re doing simple manual labor and occupying your mind with prayer. If you absolutely have to brag, you shouldn’t brag about being self-destructive and failing your family.

I like getting things done around the compound, but frequently, when I’m done, I realize I’ve overdone it. I should have quit earlier. God isn’t going to reward me for doing a perfect job, clearing limbs out of the yard or spraying weeds. He doesn’t care about things like that. He rewards me for being with him. I was with him a few weeks back, and while speaking by the Holy Spirit, I heard myself say, “Being with you is my purpose.”

My yard needs work, and the nursery isn’t done, but it’s better to fail at earthly jobs than my relationship with the one who loves me and solves every problem. God never rewarded anyone in the Bible for hard work. Not one person.

I have to continue trying to stay with God. The path is already prepared. The enemies are beaten. The corrections I need are in progress. I have to be careful not to try too hard to save myself.

The Best Present Fills a House

Merry Christmas, all!

On a somewhat-related note, a strange thing happened two days ago. Dave Portnoy, the Jewish founder of a website that caters to people who place illegal bets on sporting events that came to us via pagans, did something unexpected.

I don’t want a job. The thought horrifies me. But if I had to have a job, I would want Portnoy’s secondary career. He goes around the country reviewing pizza joints for his Youtube channel, One Bite Pizza Reviews. If he likes your shop’s pizza, his viewers mob it, and you make a lot of money.

On Monday, he visited Tinybrickoven, a closet-sized pizza place in Baltimore. He was in a hurry, so he couldn’t wait to have a pizza made. He asked them to reheat one.

This probably means he knew what he was up to when he showed up, but let’s ignore that.

The proprietor sold him a pizza and said he was getting ready to close. Portnoy asked what he meant, and he said the shop was closing for good. It wasn’t making money. The proprietor said the problem was that the authorities had refused to give him a liquor license.

Dave gave the pizza a 7.9, which is a very good score. Anything above 7 is worth a visit.

He asked the owner, “How much money do you need to stay open for like a year?” He had a hard time getting an answer, so he said, “Well, if there was somebody super rich right in front of your face who’s in the pizza business, and by serendipity, he’s like, ‘What do you need to stay open for a year?”, you got to give him some figure, because then he’s going to walk away.” Finally, the man said he thought $60,000 would get him a liquor license and allow him to stay open.

Then Dave gave him the money. He told him he was giving him a grant.

That was a nice thing to see. Portnoy gets a lot of criticism. He’s brash, he says harsh things about pretentious leftists, and women have accused him of treating them badly, but he started a foundation that has given tens of millions of dollars to small businesses. Whatever is going on inside of him, it’s not all bad.

What he did was a nice reminder that Christmas is a holiday we owe to Jews who helped gentiles. We celebrate a Jew who died for us and saved us from hell, and his Jewish friends told our ancestors the good news.

It’s best to do charity anonymously, but it’s still a nice story. It reminds us that Christmas is about love, not secular homosexual parades and gifts we buy on credit.

Not much is happening here. My wife’s gift has not arrived from Africa. She’s not in a position to get me anything. She has no job, apart from giving me someone to look after. We haven’t decorated.

Still, I am very happy, because God has answered my prayers.

Before my wife met me, she had a vision. She saw a big white house from a distance. Yeshua came out and walked toward her to welcome her. As she got close to the house, kids came out and hugged her, and she felt overwhelmed with love. I know she had this vision, because she texted a friend about it at the time.

Before I met her, I prayed for God to give me a house of love. Now we have it.

My family is a mess. My dad’s father drank and beat his wife, and then he died young from drinking bad moonshine. My dad’s elder sister was a sick, cold sociopath. My dad hated Christianity, and he grew up to be a drinker and wife-beater who neglected his kids and committed adultery. My mother’s dad was a much better person, but he had no interest in God, and my mother did a very poor job of showing God to my sister and me. My sister was a sociopath who hated me, in the manner of her aunt, who hated my dad.

I don’t really know my cousins on my dad’s side. My mother has one living sister I get along with, but she is tormented. The other has turned out to be very dishonest, and she is verbally abusive to me for no reason. My cousins generally don’t know God, and I haven’t been invited to a family gathering since maybe 1998.

In case you’re wondering, I’m not the problem. People like me, believe it or not. I’m easy to get along with. I’m nice to people. I make them laugh. I try to be helpful. I make friends very easily. I keep my circle small, but that’s a choice. I had all sorts of friends in college and law school. And in church.

I was popular in high school, although not quarterback-popular. I was voted funniest in class. At least two cheerleaders were interested in me. One made overtures after college. So was another one of my class’s top-tier girls. She actually wrote me a two-page letter after she got married.

I didn’t have to worry about where I sat at lunch.

I’m not the person you don’t invite to Thanksgiving or Christmas because he will get drunk and surly and make everyone wish he would leave, or because he’ll start a fight over some slight that happened in 1982. My sister always took the role of holiday-destroyer.

I made no friends when I was in grad school, but I was studying physics, surrounded by physics students, so that was completely normal. You would have to know physics people to understand.

The family gets together without me. It may be because I’m not supposed to see heirlooms they didn’t come by the way they should have.

I have one cousin who has a serious mental illness, and he practices yoga, which invites demons to destroy him. He has been rejected all his life, and I don’t think he has any hope that this will change. I think he feels unloved. I wish he hadn’t been ignored so much. His brother is not right, either, and he is extremely angry at the world. We used to be very close, but that’s over. Another cousin lives in Texas and has almost nothing to do with the rest of us, which I can understand.

Generally, they are unhappy people. Resentful. Not much interested in the welfare of others or the kingdom of God.

I used to love being with them. I loved all three of my aunts. I loved my cousins. I looked forward to Christmas and summer vacations. Now it’s almost like they’re dead.

I know they don’t care a lot about each other. They’re together because of habit. None of them has ever told me how wonderful any of the others were, except for moms bragging about their kids. One of the moms makes things like that up, so it’s for her, not them.

I have seen almost no affection being displayed.

This house is different. It’s full of love. My wife and I love being together. We go everywhere together. We go to each other’s doctor appointments. We pray together twice a day. We are very affectionate. We compliment each other.

I am not ambitious, so I don’t neglect her for my career. I have no interest in drunkenness, other women, TV sports, or selfish pursuits that ruin weekends and prevent me from being a real husband and father.

My wife has no interest in the things that ruin wives. She is not interested in status symbols or social-climbing. She likes working to create a warm, comfortable home. She is excited about having a baby. She sings to her belly all day.

We don’t belong to a dead Catholic or Baptist church where they tell you Christianity is a game where you try to rack up points while God does absolutely nothing for you. We don’t belong to a prosperity gospel church where the pastors spend their days thinking up ways to con people out of their savings and houses. We don’t hang out with church volunteers who snipe at us and revel in abusing their meager authority.

We pray for God to transform us and inhabit us. We ask him to separate us from useless people and spirits. We ask for humility, love, and revelation. We don’t get on our knees, ask God to give us more money than our neighbors, and get up and go about the business of the flesh. God helps us to pray for the important things.

I speak blessings over my wife and child. I speak blessings over my parrot, Marvin. I use the name of Yeshua. We want our family to be different from our parent’s families and our cousins’ families, and it is.

The yard is a mess. We need to fix the landscaping. The house needs a lot of painting. We are less than halfway done with the furnishings. Doesn’t matter at all. It’s nothing. My wife doesn’t lie in bed and pray for God to change me and make me a Christian husband who treats her well. I don’t go off by myself and ask God to make my wife love me and stop using me. We’re not looking around to see if someone better can rescue us. The important things are in place, regardless of whether the hedges need trimming.

God is extremely, extremely good to us. I’m sorry so many people from our past are doing so badly. I wish everyone lived in a house of love. I can’t do anything about it, though. They don’t listen. God is ready when they are, but they prefer shallow lives devoted to bringing themselves the things they think will make them happy.

We don’t have a Christmas tree or matching Christmas pajamas. We don’t put up Facebook photos that are carefully engineered to create a false impression of an idyllic existence exemplifying the American dream and to hide things like domestic abuse, perverted children, debt, adultery, alcoholism, and despair.

Many Americans post photos like that. I don’t understand it. No one is going to try to rescue you from despair if they don’t know you have a problem.

Our house is decorated by love and God’s presence. We don’t need to publish a newsletter about how little Tommy is the tallest boy in the first grade and little Becky is the captain of the pep squad.

Happiness and peace are priceless. The appearance of happiness is worthless without more.

Things are working because I gave up. I was inept at running my own life. I had no idea what I was doing. I corrupted myself and turned myself into a disgrace. When I gave up, everything turned around, and over time, I was brought to this place. I have nothing to be proud of, and I am afraid of pride. God did it all. I don’t want him to stop.

You can have a life of peace and love if you want it, but you have to give up and admit defeat. You have to let God run things. You need to be baptized with the Holy Spirit, pray in tongues, and receive revelation. You have to embrace humility and benefit from its power. Otherwise, you’ll just be putting flashy bandages on infected wounds until you die.

I never lived in a house of love until my wife moved here, when I was already nearly elderly. I loved people, but I was alone with two birds. They were the only creatures I could share love with every day. Living in a house of love is still very new and strange to me.

Thank you, God, for all you’ve done. Please help us not to ruin it.

Tune Your Saw with Contrarianism

Do you have an Echo CS-590 chainsaw you modified? Did you advance the timing and open up the muffler? Do you have a carb from a more-powerful saw on it?

Are you totally unable to start and tune it now that you’ve worked on it?

Take heart, friend. I may have the answer.

I put a new key on the shaft of my saw’s flywheel a while back, advancing the timing, and it seemed to run considerably stronger. I stuck a new, more open deflector on the muffler, too. Everything was fine. But my motto is, “If it ain’t broke, fix it,” so I got back to work.

I removed my muffler’s deflector and drilled 6 3/16″ holes in the muffler, around the factory opening that shoots gas out of the saw. This reduced back pressure and should end up giving me considerably more power.

The carb I have on it comes from a CS-620P, which is a professional-grade saw. It’s more powerful than a stock CS-590, so the carb has a slightly higher capacity. Unfortunately, it comes with a main jet/check valve that has a little hole in it that always lets some fuel go through, even when you close the H and L screws.

This hole is there to save Echo aggravation. It’s just like the little plastic things my saw used to have, to prevent people from turning the screws too far. The purpose of both is to keep people from leaning their saws out until they blow up. Echo knows people will do this and then expect warranty repairs.

The main jet has a check valve to keep air from being sucked backward into the system.

If you modify your saw, you will need to readjust your carb, so the limiter caps on the screws have to go, along with the hole in the check valve. If you have a hole in your valve, you may not be able to lean your saw out enough to make it run well after modifications. A saw the factory wants to max out at 12,000 RPM may run well at 15,000 after modifications, requiring a different mix, so you don’t want a check valve ruining your day.

I installed a new check valve with no hole, and then I tried to tune the saw. It drove me crazy for several days.

It wouldn’t start. Then it would start, but it wouldn’t idle. Then it would idle, but it died when I goosed the throttle.

A guy who sells modification parts did a video, and he said that if you change your check valve, you should open up the H screw to richen the mixture. Other people on the web seemed to agree that saws with muffler mods needed more fuel. Believing this tripe, I tried starting my saw with the screws out a little past the OEM settings, and I tried the OEM settings. Finally, I tried starting the L screw at one turn out from zero, and the saw ran.

So if you have modified your CS-590, and you’re losing your mind trying to make it work, try leaning out the L feed.

I should add that sometimes tightening a screw will actually make the mixture richer at wide-open throttle, but let’s not go there. I don’t think it applies to the L screw. All I know is, I needed to tighten mine.

I got the saw to run smoothly last night, but I ran out of blood for the mosquitoes, so I didn’t finish the job.

Before fooling with the muffler and valve, the saw was doing something like 13,500, I think. Maybe it was 13,300. This is wide open, with no load. Last night, all I could get was 12,500, which is within wimpy factory specs. Disgraceful.

Today I set the idle at 3,000, pretty much in the middle of the range. I tuned the L screw by ear. Then I opened up the H screw, and BANG, I was at 13,300 with an occasional burp.

It was like, “WAAAAAAAAAAAAA bip WAAAAAAAAAAA bip WAAAAAAAAAAA bip.”

In case you want to know how to tune a saw’s H needle, I have found out, so I’ll tell you.

It’s the last thing you adjust.

You want it to “four-stroke.” This is a misnomer used by chainsaw dudes. A chainsaw has a 2-stroke motor, and it can’t do what a 4-stroke does. It can SOUND a little like a 4-stroke, however. It sounds that way because it’s missing.

You want to make the H feed so rich, the saw misses a little when wide open with no load. Just a little. This means it’s getting more fuel than it can burn. When you put it in the wood, that fuel will be burned to provide more power, and the saw will run smoothly.

My saw has a limited ignition coil. The limit is 13,500.

People say you can’t tune a saw with a limited coil, because when it hits the limit, if starts missing, and it sounds like the saw is tuned correctly. I don’t think I’m having that problem, because I’m not hitting 13,500 and the saw is missing, but I will keep testing it.

The big take-away here is this: if you have been modifying your CS-590, and you’re pulling your hair out because it won’t let you tune it, and you think you broke it, set the L screw at one turn out, or whatever is 1/4 turn in from the OEM setting for your carb. It may be the answer.

Now I have 4 pretty decent gas saws for wood clearing. I have a homeowner-grade 40cc rebadged Husqvarna 435, a modified CS-590 which is maybe 90% professional-grade, an Echo CS-510P, which is a 50-cc pro saw, and a Husqvarna 562XP, which is a 4.9-horsepower 60-cc saw with a 24″ bar.

I only need one big saw and one small saw to work, so with two in each size, it’s pretty likely I’ll always have a set of two gas saws that function. And I have a cordless Makita that will save me if both of my small saws die on me.

I have no idea how much power the CS-590 makes now, but it should be significantly more than the 4 horsepower it was born with.

I’m keeping my chains sharp, so that also helps. Sharpening your chain is like adding one or more horsepower. I also use grown-up chains, not the safety chains lawyers put on saws places like Home Depot sells. Those safety chains are amazing. You buy a 4-horsepower saw, to pick a number, and the chain, sharpened to its peak, makes it cut like 3 horsepower.

They Should Make a Cargo Drone

Before I start, an amusing remark I heard from the wife. She said she can’t wait to give birth so she can get some sleep.

She really said that.

Also, an update on my friend, whose wife was jailed recently for aggravated stalking, theft, and violating a protective order. Alleged, alleged, alleged. A female judge let her out on $8000 bond yesterday, so $800 out of pocket.

Ridiculous. If you violate a protective order, you break in the victim’s house and steal, you bother his children at school, you steal the ashes of the person who raised him, and you are arrested for stalking, you have violated exactly the type of crimes that warrant pretrial detention. You have shown you have to be physically restrained in order to keep the victim safe. And she’s also ALLEGEDLY a huge flight risk. It took months to find out where she was, and my friend says she was living in Florida while pretending to live in Georgia.

Oh, well. She’ll be incarcerated again soon enough. She has no self-control, so she’ll keep doing things to get the attention of the authorities. I hope they put her away before anyone else gets hurt.

She appears to be the person who called the cops and reported, falsely, that a man resembling her husband was dealing fentanyl from my house. I hope she’ll leave me out of this from now on, because I do not want to end up in a self-defense situation.

People are like bears. Much more dangerous when they have young to protect. You can let a lot of things slide–you can take risks–when you’re the only one in danger. You don’t have as much leeway when your child is threatened.

They let her out on Halloween, a day when servants of Satan celebrate their defeated, infantile, doomed, embarrassing false god. Interesting.

Today I’m thinking about woods maintenance, as I was yesterday. I drilled out the muffler on my Echo CS-590 and added a couple of parts to seal up the air filter. This model has a problem with letting fine particles by, and the general belief is that once they’re in the cylinder, they will cause it to wear.

Is that true? A good threshold question. It sounds like it might be true, but I haven’t seen evidence yet. People argue about it. Wood dust is very soft, so I’m not sure it can pose a threat to rings and cylinders. If it burns while in the cylinder, it turns to carbon, and it’s normal for cylinders to have carbon in them. It sticks to pistons.

It’s not like the saw lets a lot of this stuff in. It’s a tiny amount. If pressed, I would guess that the otherwise-excellent engineers at Shindaiwa, Echo’s parent company, designed their filters better than they needed to be.

Dirt is another matter, because it’s made of stone. I don’t run saws in dusty conditions, however.

Anyway, I stuck the filter kit in the saw, I drilled 6 3/16″ holes in the muffler, and I started trying to tune the saw’s carburetor.

This is an annoying process, because every single expert on Earth starts out his instructions the same way: “Start the saw and let it warm up.”

What if you can’t start the saw?

I can tune a saw which will run, but when the carb is way off, it’s much harder.

My saw was running very well before yesterday, but after I worked on it, I could not keep it running. Then I fiddled with it, and it ran strangely. It took off and revved up on its own. With the carb set differently, it would only rev up to half speed.

Apparently, when a saw changes speed on its own, it’s a sign of an air leak. I decided to remove the air filter changes. I don’t see how an air leak BEFORE the carburetor can matter, but what the heck.

I got it to where it should be tuneable, but then it decided not to start, so I quit. Today may be better.

For a long time, I’ve been looking for a good way to carry saws on my tractor. Back when I had awful debris tines that mounted on the bucket, I could put saws in the bucket. Now that I have a proper fork with no bucket, all I have is a ballast box with a little empty space at the top. If I put a saw in it, the bar will hang out over the edge. Putting two saws in is worse. And there is always the possibility one will fall out.

I can tell you about one product I don’t plan to buy: the Sawhaul chainsaw holder.

It looks like a fine product. You drill holes in your tractor, or you use a U-bolt, to attach the mount. You attach a plastic scabbard to it. You put the saw in, bar down. It’s like a holster.

My big issues are the price and the fact that the scabbard part of the holder is only right for one size bar. The saw’s weight rests on the inside of the tip of the scabbard, to keep the saw body off the mount so it doesn’t get beaten up. If you have a saw that’s too long, it’s going to flop around. If it’s too short, the saw will rest directly on the mount.

Right now I have 16″, 18″, 20″, and 24″ bars.

I don’t think it’s wise to have a heavy saw resting on its tip in a plastic sheath. I would expect it to cut through eventually.

The Sawhaul goes for $180 on Amazon, and it looks like it could be sold profitably for $60. That’s another problem.

These things are typically mounted on the upright portions of front end loaders. Don’t you need that area clear so you can reach the grease zerks? It seems like a flaw.

So let’s forget holster-type mounts. What’s the answer, then?

I was thinking of building a tray for the top of my ballast box. The box is extremely sturdy, and more weight can only improve its performance. But building a tray would be a pain, and it would not be free. Steel is not free, and neither is plywood. Neither are primer, paint, and fasteners. I don’t think I could do it for less than $50. The necessity of spending money and doing hours of work make spending a little more money and avoiding work look good.

My ballast box has a 2″ receiver built into the back. This gave me ideas. I live in an area full of old people, so many vehicles here have cargo carriers on trailer hitch receivers. A cargo carrier is a metal frame around 4 feet long and two feet wide. The structural bits are tubing, and if there is any kind of platform in it, it will usually be made from expanded metal. People here use them to carry mobility carts.

My big issue with virtually every cargo carrier made is that the sides are open. Typically, a cargo carrier will have a thin piece of tubing going around the top, around 4 inches above the bottom. Between the top and bottom, there is space, through which just about anything can fall.

A guy who calls himself Tractor Mike sells a lot of helpful products, and one is the Tractor Caddy. It’s a cargo carrier made from sheet steel, so the sides are mostly closed up. Problem: it’s small. Problem: it doesn’t mount in a receiver; it attaches to a roll-over device, in the way. Big problem: it costs about $350, before shipping. You would have to be nuts to buy this thing.

So what should I do? I’ll tell you, friends. I should buy an aluminum carrier made by Elevate Outdoor. In fact, I did. Amazon is bringing it here for $138, ready to go.

It’s big. It’s set up for a receiver. It holds (allegedly) 500 pounds, or 440 pounds more than I will ever put in it. The sides are solid. It’s aluminum, so it won’t rust. It folds up so my tractor will fit in my shop with the door closed.

The only problem is that the bottom is made of slats, so stuff can fall through. I’ll have to put a sheet of plywood in there, and I’m sure I’ll end up painting it, because that’s how I am. But I already have paint.

If it’s a well-designed product, it will be perfect. I’ll have no trouble putting two saws in it, along with a strap and some tools. Maybe even my helmet and chaps.

There are a lot of really beautiful homemade devices for this purpose. Some guys have outdone the pros by a wide margin. But they spent a lot and did a lot of work. I want to work on the trees, not the tractor. And their solutions lack versatility.

I had an idea for another solution. You cut a piece of goat fencing and lay it across the debris tines to form a floor. You attach it to the tines at the rear. When you need it, flip it down and put stuff on it. When you don’t, flip it up and secure it. In the up position, it keeps things from coming back at you between the tines. Cost: $0. I already have fencing.

The fencing is good because it makes it easy to hold long tools like pole saws.

Maybe I should have gone with fencing. It would only work when the tines were on the tractor, but that’s 90% of the time.

I can always do both. I need fencing to protect me anyway.

I can keep the carrier even if I end up using fencing, because it will fit my car.

Can’t hurt.

Guess I better get out there and cut things.

My Personal Trainer’s Name is Milton

Life here is going extremely well, although I have some concerns about my wife because she holds her belly and sings to it. I am pretty old, I have seen lots of pregnant women, and they have all seemed pretty miserable. My wife isn’t getting the message.

I’m having fun moving hurricane trees. A real whopper flopped in my woods, over the dirt road that goes down the middle of the lot. I would say it’s 80 feet tall, or, more accurately, long. It’s about two feet thick at what used to be waist level. It fell so the crown got stuck in some other trash oaks.

Some of the upper branches hit the ground, and others were caught in the other trees. In a situation like that, it can be impossible to predict what the tree wants to do. Is it firmly stuck at the top end, or is the root ball holding it up? If you cut it, will it do nothing, fall straight down, or fall while rotating? Which end will fall when you cut? Will the tree’s canopy drop, ripping limbs off the other trees? Will the stump end come toward you? Will it go up or down?

Making things worse, this is a V-shaped tree. It has one big trunk and one small one. It fell in the direction of the small trunk, pinning the smaller part of the tree to the ground. The V-shaped base of the tree held the big trunk up so the lowest good place to cut was at waist height. When you cut a nearly-horizontal tree which is three feet off the ground, the part that falls can fall…three feet. With you close at hand.

I have two new chainsaws. I got frustrated with my Echo Timberwolf and the little Jonsered CS2240 I bought in 2017, because I had trouble keeping them running. This year, I bought a Husqvarna 562XP with a 24″ bar, and I just picked up a 50-cc Echo CS-501P with a 16″ bar. The CS-501P usually comes with a longer bar, but I wanted a light, overpowered short saw for bucking. My new saws are commercial saws. The old Echo came with commercial innards for the most part, but it also had some residential-grade stuff, some of which I have replaced.

As you can see, this is a scary tree to cut. If you cut the top end, it could come loose and crush you without warning. If you cut the bottom end, you can’t tell which way it will go. It was surrounded with vines and other trip hazards, making it even more fun.

I will call the big part of the tree “Tree 1” and the small part “Tree 2.” I decided I should try to get most of Tree 2 out from under Tree 1 so Tree 1 would not fall on it and then roll toward me. Using my knowledge of tree behavior, accumulated over 7 years, I cut Tree 2 a couple of yards from the root ball, confident I could keep it from pinching the saw. Which it did, almost immediately.

I had to go back to the house and get the cordless Makita to get it loose. I could not get a wedge into the wood to open it up, so I had to make a second cut close by, while standing nearly under the trunk of Tree 1.

I can’t say enough about the cordless Makita. If you have a lot of trees, you can’t really get by without a gas saw unless you want to buy maybe 8 expensive batteries, but for most jobs, the Makita is fantastic. It has incredible torque, it cuts really fast, it makes no noise, it always starts, and Makita engineered it so it’s very easy to use. You don’t need a scrench to install or adjust chains.

Makita makes top-quality gas saws under the Dolmar name, but they don’t have much of a presence in the US.

If I only had a few chainsaw jobs to do every year, I’d be happy with the Makita and a cordless pole saw.

Well, that’s not true. I’d also want a small gas saw to free the Makita if it got pinched. Which it would.

I got a fair amount of Tree 2 out of there. Tree 1 did not move. I figured the next thing was to cut Tree 1 by the root ball.

I have bucked a lot of fallen trees, and the root balls have pretty much always stayed put. Not so this time.

Guessing that the root ball wasn’t applying any torque to the trunk, I figured the top of the trunk was in compression and the bottom was being pulled. After praying not to die, I cut into the top and made a slot deep enough for a wedge and a chainsaw bar. I pounded a wedge in to keep the cut from closing. Then I bored into the side of the trunk and cut up to the slot I had made. Then I noticed that the wedge was moving deeper into the wood.

The cut was opening, not closing as I had expected. The canopy of the tree was trying to fall.

I ended up going back to the house and leaving the tree alone. I planned to get back on it the next day. The cut was gradually widening, so I didn’t think it was a good idea to poke at it.

When I got back the next day, the trunk was nearly separated from the stump. There was a strap of intact wood under it, holding things together. The stump had rotated upward, and the stump of Tree 2 had inconveniently positioned itself under Tree 1. Tree 1 was resting on it, preventing the trunk of Tree 1 from falling and ripping the strap apart.

I had to get a pole saw and cut the strap. I was not going to be near the tree when it gave up. When the situation resolved, the canopy of the tree fell straight down, so it was no longer hung in other trees. Anyone trying to work under it, thinking it was hung securely, would have been squooshed.

Now I have to start nibbling the tree and moving the bits away from the road. I can keep nibbling until I get close to the stump, and then I’ll get the lowest segment of the trunk off the stump and onto the ground.

I used to burn everything I cut, but I eventually realized it didn’t matter if there was debris in the woods. It goes away in three years, and while it’s there, it doesn’t bother anyone. I plan to put this year’s junk in piles and leave it.

Burning piles of trees is kind of fun, and it makes you feel like you’re doing a good job keeping your land neat, but it’s also a pain. You have to be around to make sure nothing gets out of hand. You have to get permits. You have to put your piles out before a certain time of day, which is not always possible. Sometimes a pile will smolder for several days, and I just count on the condition of the surrounding grass and trees to prevent problems. It’s very hard to start a wildfire in unfavorable conditions. Impossible, really.

I don’t like going to bed knowing something out there is still burning, but it’s either that or stay up all night with the hose and tractor. It’s not unsafe to let things burn, but I can’t help thinking about worst-case scenarios that can’t actually happen.

Since I learned burn permits aren’t needed for piles smaller than 8 feet across, I am making an effort to cut trees in smaller pieces.

I am going to hop up the new CS-501P. I didn’t have a great need to buy it, but my other two small saws have some limitations, and I thought it would be fun to have a better one and increase the power. The Makita is limited by battery life, and the Jonsered is very unpleasant to work on.

I bought a new exhaust deflector. This won’t increase the power much, but it may help heat escape. It’s aluminum. Heat is what kills chainsaws, and their greenie exhaust systems hold it in. Arborists really hate environmentalists. It’s amazing how conservative they are. I can see why, when I think about all the ways environmentalists hinder their work and cost them money.

The saw has a strange removable tube in the muffler, and that’s coming out. This should make a noticeable difference. I think Echo made it removable for this reason. I may also drill some holes in the muffler.

I got myself a decent-quality tachometer. I already had a tach, but I learned the model I got was not considered accurate. Hard to believe, at the high price of $7. When the new saw has gone through a couple of tanks of fuel, and the exhaust stuff is installed, I’ll use the tachometer to check the top speed when the saw is tuned orrectly. When that is done, the saw should be making substantially more power. The dyno guy, referenced below, got something like 15% this way.

I don’t really need to check the top speed. It turns out a tachometer is not really needed to tune a saw. You do it by ear. I didn’t completely understand things when I bought the tachometer. But it should help when checking modifications to see if I’m getting improvement.

I might even open up the cylinder’s ports. I could take this little saw up to 5 horsepower, which would be an increase of about a third. My 60-cc Echo Timberwolf has a bigger engine and only put out 4 horsepower before I changed the carb and timing. My Husqvarna 562XP only produces 4.7, and it pulls a 24″ bar very well.

Does it make sense to soup up a saw when I’m planning to use a 16″ bar? Maybe not. I don’t care.

Actually, it does make sense. Most of the time, I’ll be cutting things under 4″ thick, but it would be convenient to have a light saw that really rips through things a foot across. I would be able to leave the bigger saws in my shop more often.

Adding a couple of pounds to a saw’s weight makes a surprising difference over the course of a job. A little extra weight makes the saw wear you down.

Chainsaw people are nuts. They love modifying their saws. There is a guy on Youtube who built his own chainsaw dynamometer, and he hooked it to a computer. He does modifications and tests the saws before and after. He gets saws to put out 50% or more power than they did from the factory. This stuff is not shade-tree-mechanic ignorance.

The weird thing is that modified pro saws don’t lose reliability or endurance. Reasonable modifications actually make them last longer and make them harder to damage. This is what the professional mechanics say, anyway. They also say homeowner-grade saws are different because they have plastic cases that may not like increased power. A pro saw will always have a metal case.

I will lose my warranty if I modify, but I don’t care about that. Echo is notorious for horrible customer service and weaseling out of warranty obligations, and anyway, I don’t want to leave my saw with a mechanic for 6 weeks. I went a whole summer with a saw in the hands of bad mechanics.

I should be able to fix anything at all that goes wrong. I don’t know if I will ever be able to fix complicated saws with electronics issues, but I can deal with the mechanical things.

I really enjoy cutting wood. I have never been one of those people who look forward to working out, but for a few years, I’ve felt like there was a ball of excess energy inside me. I have gone out and bucked trees just for the sensation of cutting, lifting, and hurling. It’s very odd.

I was cutting yesterday, and I was breathing a little hard. I kept going. I wanted to feel that way.

I started wondering. Was I really experiencing physical strength and energy, or was it all mental and spiritual? What if I was putting my body in danger because it wasn’t as strong as I felt?

Here’s something weird: I don’t get sore after doing this kind of work. I get dehydrated and tired eventually, but the day after I work, I feel great. I am not working out these days, and I’m old. I don’t take medicine to keep me alive. I eat a lot of ice cream. I’m not preparing myself in order to avoid soreness. I don’t know what’s going on.

I hope it lasts.

This type of work makes me lose weight. When I do a lot of wood removal, I can’t keep weight on. May that happen this time as it has in the past. The Ben & Jerry’s weight has to go.

Burning Stuff Shouldn’t be This Hard

I got up today with the intention of getting myself a burn permit. I must have 20 tons of tree parts already in piles.

Figured I was prepared. I had my customer number for the forestry people. I knew I had to call before noon. The weather was okay.

Called with plenty of time left. I thought. They told me I had to call by 10 a.m.

Now what do I do with the day?

It seems like they used to give permits more easily. I used to call in the morning and sail right through. Then they said I had to call by noon. They said I had to take a class and get a special status in order to be able to burn under certain conditions. Now I have to call by 10 a.m.

I miss the days before I knew about permits. I went outside, set the pile on fire, and that was that. I never got caught, even when I accidentally set my pasture on fire.

It’s too bad downed oaks are worthless, because God has blessed me with thousands of oaks. They’re useless for lumber and furniture. They make fine firewood and smoker fuel, but the supply is so great, no one wants them.

The types of oak I have rot pretty fast outdoors, so even though they would make very strong posts and boards, they wouldn’t last. Indoors, furniture made from them wouldn’t look very good, and they’re so hard, they’re tough on tools.

I also have a fair number of sweet gums. It’s a second-tier furniture wood, and Asians like to make chopsticks from it. No one wants it, though. It’s supposed to be terrible for smoking. Some people claim it’s toxic.

My latest chainsaw is on the way. I thought I might get out and cut some more wood this weekend, but the saw won’t be here until Monday, and if I use my old saw now, I won’t get to use the new one for much. Also, the burn piles are immense, so I would like to stop adding to them until at least one is clear.

I guess this will be a good day to remove the remaining bits of trash that could obstruct the mower. Then I can replace the mower’s exhaust pipe. Tomorrow, I could mow. My yard looks like a jungle.

I’m looking forward to having the election over with. Biden is basically a retiree, the country is on autopilot, Harris and Walz keep making fools of themselves, and it’s starting to look like Trump will win. If he does, I expect a lot of violence from leftists, who are much more hateful and immature than conservatives. I would like to see that behind us.

Today I saw Kamala say something truthful. That makes it a special day for me.

Christians showed up at a Harris rally. They were protesting the murder of the unborn. Harris was speaking, and a man shouted, “JESUS IS LORD!”, which is true. And Jesus hates abortion.

Harris was talking about walking Trump’s progress backward and making it easier to turn women’s uteruses into murder scenes. The man shouted during a pause, when the room was quiet. He could be heard clearly.

Harris said, “Oh, you guys are at the wrong rally.” She said she thought they had meant to go to a Trump rally close by, which she described as “smaller.” Of course, Trump was in another state so he could go to the Al Smith dinner, which she skipped, perhaps out of the same cowardice that keeps her from doing interviews.

She grinned. She thought her remark was funny.

She was correct about the protestors, though. A Harris rally is no place for Christians. The Democrats openly opposed God and Israel in a voice vote at their convention years ago, they elected Obama, who was very hard on Israel and promoted perversion, and they treat the unborn like unwanted warts.

No Christian has a good excuse to be a Democrat. They have excuses. Just not good ones.

If you vote for Kamala, you’re voting for perversion, the murder of unborn children, antisemitism, racism, rioting, shoplifting, and the persecution of Christians. Those are major issues. Fake Christians who refuse to vote for Trump complain about his personality and his sexual history. That’s ridiculous. Yeshua himself is not running for president. We don’t have an ideal candidate. We have to avoid the worst choice we have, and that choice is Harris.

It’s not just Harris. It’s the flood of demonized Harris appointees that will follow, including EVERY FEDERAL JUDGE. She will appoint judges that support the castration and skinning of confused minors going through phases. They will support abortion up to and possibly past the point of birth. They will persecute Christians. They will empower Muslim terrorists.

Both parties serve Satan to a large degree, but the problem is much, much worse on the Democrat side.

Even though I hope Trump is reelected, I still believe America is finished. Evangelism is pretty much dead here. The perverts have won; even Fox uses incorrect pronouns. Young people are awful, and they are the ones who will take our places. In the future, unless the rapture comes, the vast majority of Americans will be arrogant, cruel, Yeshua-hating, antisemitic, witchcraft-loving, feminized, dishonest, shallow, useless people.

Privacy is a thing of the past. With the advances in surveillance and artificial intelligence, free will is disappearing. Immigrants from horrible places are piling in and having huge families. Nearly all churches where the Holy Spirit is acknowledged are run by greedy, heartless pimps and whores who enslave people with the prosperity gospel. The other churches promote anal sex but not holiness.

It’s not going to get better.

Christians are going to be marginalized more and more. We will be impoverished and silenced. Attacks on Jews will be tolerated and encouraged.

We chose all this. The people who came before us chose Satan over Yeshua, they raised us in their stupidity and immaturity, we are worse than they were, and the nation has continued to deteriorate.

These days, I spend a lot of time resting in God’s presence. I don’t do it just because I want him to do good things for me. I do it because I want to take breaks from this stinking, corrupted world. It’s like cracking the door to heaven and sticking your nose in. I keep begging God to bring the rapture and tribulation and put an end to this culture.

I hope it happens quickly, because otherwise, my children have no future on their own planet. They’ll live in little Christian bubbles smaller than mine.

America was wonderful. We didn’t understand what we had. The lack of persecution was extraordinary, and it was combined with extreme wealth, power, and safety. Those things are disappearing. Living here will be like living in two-tier England, where Christianity is broadly hated and Christians are seen as troublemakers and parasites.

When America is gone, there will be no big, rich, Christian country to run to. Every single large nation will belong to Satan.

The world has two big continents: the Americas and Africa/Europe/Asia. Then there is Australia, which is lost. There is no fourth land mass we can run to in order to establish a Christian society.

The filth of the coming world is disturbing to think about. The whole world will be like the most degenerate cultures we now have.

Consider “Palestine.” They hack suspected Israel-sympathizers to death and leave their body parts on display in the marketplaces. They have children’s shows where they tell kids to murder Jews. The filthiest kinds of terrorists have called their parents during massacres to show off the blood on their hands, and the parents have been transported with joy and pride.

Think of Afghanistan, where the rape of boys is considered normal. It’s a country so savage, it’s not worth trying to save. They murder the people who try to help them, just like the Somalis.

Consider Nigeria, where Muslims are so dangerous, you need multiple armed escorts in order to get around. Think of North Korea, where intelligent, hard-working people drop dead on the streets and rot, starved and full of worms.

Then there’s Central America, where drug dealers skin people alive, and the people support them.

Left to themselves, human beings are almost as bad as demons, and the majority of us have decided to be left to ourselves. There is no limit to the depravity we can embrace.

The other day, I read about government employees in Maryland, removing a young man from his parents home, permanently, because they refused to support his “trans” delusion. The parents are Christians. I was so discouraged, I prayed for God to kill the government employees.

Thousands of times, I have prayed for God to reach vile, cruel people and correct them. When I read about this kid, and I thought about him being castrated and pumped full of drugs by people full of demons, I couldn’t find the patience to ask God to turn them around. Just kill them. They can’t be reached with persuasion. They will do too much harm if they are allowed to live, and what they are doing is an atrocity.

What will I do when the demonized run Florida, my son goes through a feminine phase, and clown-haired stooges with unlimited authority drag him off to have his penis sliced down the middle, hollowed out, and turned into a fake clitoris in a stinking, never-healing hole that grows fungus and bacteria? Shooting them won’t help. I’ll go to prison, and they’ll send more stooges. Suing won’t help. The judges will be on their side. If it happens, I’ll just sit and pray and wish God would take both of us.

I understand why Yeshua, the God who is love itself, is going to return and massacre people. The Bible says his robe will be wet with their blood. I get it. Enough is enough. It’s better than letting this mess deteriorate to the point where life is utterly pointless. Saving new souls is important, but the reality is that human beings have limited value. A person is worth more than many sparrows, but it’s better that people die and go to hell than to have them remain alive and torment the people God loves without significant resistance.

God has killed millions of people, so no Christian should be upset when someone says he will do it again. He told us he’s going to do it.

He created hell and the lake of fire. Satan didn’t do these things. He couldn’t, and besides, the lake of fire is his future home for eternity.

One of the main purposes of these places is to keep the irredeemable away from the rest of us. Heaven can’t be heaven if they aren’t confined and forgotten, and the Messianic Age can’t take place unless fallen angels and demons are removed.

Regarding the apocalypse, I don’t want to see people suffer. I just want evil people to be defeated and kept away from God’s children. I have very little energy left to deal with them. Unfortunately, death and hell are the only permanent solutions. We can’t get permanent relief unless a lot of people die and go to hell. They will not change.

There is a blessing in knowing and being close to a totally worthless, hateful, destructive person who brings misery to everyone around her and makes it impossible for them to relax and thrive. It teaches you that God was right to create hell and the lake of fire. It makes you realize people eventually have to have relief, regardless of what the worthless have to suffer.

Most Christians never learn this lesson. They learn that Yeshua wants us to pray for our enemies, but they don’t pay much attention to the scriptures about turning people over to Satan or refusing to eat with them.

Yeshua never chased anyone. Have you noticed that? He showed up and invited people. He showed them God’s goodness and power by supernatural means. That’s it. When they turned him down, he left without hesitation.

He left most of the Jewish people behind at about 33, knowing hell would swallow them by the millions. He knew Jerusalem would be sacked, the temple would be destroyed, and the people would be dispersed for 2,000 years.

He could have stayed until he was as old as Methuselah, begging and cajoling. The priests had no power to arrest him. He turned himself over to them and chose to be crucified.

Would he have let a worthless son live in his house for 50 years and abuse him? Would he have enabled a junkie or a gambler? Would he have sold his house to pay the son’s creditors or bookies? Of course not. God can’t be manipulated. This is the real meaning of, “Thou shalt not put the Lord thy God to the test.”

I curse the Harris campaign, literally, as often as I remember to do it, but a Trump victory would be like giving a terminal cancer patient Tylenol. Better than nothing, but no solution.

Incidentally, I learned something interesting about the diaspora. Solomon caused it.

Solomon was a failure and a disgrace. He was also a hypocrite. People talk about him as though he were nearly a god, and he wrote part of the Bible, but he was a curse to Israel.

God told Solomon that if he or his people turned away, the people would be driven out of the promised land. A lot of people think the Jews were driven out because the people turned on God, but according to scripture, Solomon’s rebellion, by itself, was sufficient to invoke the curse.

Look at this scripture from 1 Kings 9:

But if ye shall at all turn from following me, ye or your children, and will not keep my commandments and my statutes which I have set before you, but go and serve other gods, and worship them:

Then will I cut off Israel out of the land which I have given them; and this house, which I have hallowed for my name, will I cast out of my sight; and Israel shall be a proverb and a byword among all people:

And at this house, which is high, every one that passeth by it shall be astonished, and shall hiss; and they shall say, Why hath the Lord done thus unto this land, and to this house?

And they shall answer, Because they forsook the Lord their God, who brought forth their fathers out of the land of Egypt, and have taken hold upon other gods, and have worshipped them, and served them: therefore hath the Lord brought upon them all this evil.

That’s really interesting. I wonder why no one teaches it.

Solomon praised God before the people, but all the while, he was sacrificing to fallen angels who literally stink. It looks like he, singlehandedly, assured that the Jews would lose Israel.

Look at the people we elect. And somehow many of us think we will never lose America.

Hobbies Look so Different When You’re Old

I’m getting ready to clean my roof off, remove the remaining junk from the yard, blow the debris off the pool enclosure, and maybe fix the lawn tractor.

Because I finally, after trying hard for 6 years, learned how to keep gas chainsaws running, the three saws I have been using for this cleanup all started and ran fine this time around, even though the gas is 5 months old and should have been dumped.

I’ve gotten really cocky about saws. I modified my Echo CS-590, which is a 90%-commercial saw hidden in a residential-saw disguise. I changed the timing, put in a bigger carb, added an exhaust deflector, and tuned it to run at 13,300 instead of the factory 12-something. It’s a monster now. I may speed it up to 14,000. It will do it.

Even though I really don’t need another saw, I am highly, highly tempted to get another pro-grade saw and fix it up.

When Irma passed by in ’17 and made a mess here, it was not possible to get any kind of decent largish saw, even online. The storm-cleanup market sucked them all up. Miraculously, I came across a Jonsered CS2240 which had just been made available online by Tractor Supply. I nailed it, probably within 20 minutes of its appearance.

It took me several more days to find the Echo online, so a 16″ hobby saw looked pretty good.

The Jonsered is actually a red Husqvarna 435. Husqvarna bought Jonsered, and for some reason, they released the exact same saw under different badges.

It’s a 40-cc homeowner saw. It came with a 16″ blade. It probably came with a Romper Room chain designed to cut slowly. Most homeowner saws do. A good chain is more likely to make the saw kick back and hurt the user. Manufacturers don’t trust amateurs with good chains. If you go to Home Depot, Lowe’s, or Tractor Supply, you will find that it’s literally impossible to get a real chain unless you order it.

The little cutting things on a saw are called chisels, and they come in different types. If you want to cut fast, you want full chisels. Hardware store saws come with semi-chisel chains.

It’s kind of stupid. You buy a big saw, and it performs like a little one. And they don’t tell you. You can make a Home Depot saw cut like a bigger saw just by putting the correct chain on it.

I have since put full-chisel chains on my saws, except maybe for my electric Makita. I should check.

The Jonsered has been okay, when I have managed to make it work. I made all sorts of errors, and then the saw developed an air leak, which is common to the model. I had to have a mechanic fix that. Now I can pick it up and use it when I want it.

It’s not a perfect saw. The casing is plastic, like those on nearly all hobby saws. That makes it more fragile and harder to modify. It’s also hard to work on. My Echo comes apart in a hurry. It’s also somewhat weak because of the small engine.

I started thinking maybe it would be nice to have a stronger 16″ gas saw. I turned my Echo into a the near-equivalent of a commercial saw. It came with a metal case, which gave me a head start.

I asked around and read up. I started out by looking at Husqvarna and Stihl, but I was not that impressed. Then I saw the Echo CS-4910 and CS-501P.

For some reason, Echo likes putting commercial stuff in hobby saws. The CS-501P is for professionals, and it has a metal case, an aluminum handle, and a 50-cc motor which modifies easily. The CS-4910 is almost exactly the same saw. It has been discontinued, but it’s still around, and it costs about $180 less. You get a plastic handle, which is about as good as aluminum. You get the hobby-grade chain and a bar that is not as tough. You get bar nuts that fall off and get lost, whereas the CS-501P has nuts that stay on the saw when you remove the bar. There are a couple of other parts that differ, but they’re trivial.

You can replace the chain for $20. The nuts can be had online for about $18. So for about $140 less than a CS-501P, you get nearly the same thing. The bar is not a huge problem, because it will take an amateur a long time to ruin a bar, and they run around $40.

A year or two ago, they were selling the CS-4910 for under $300, trying to clear it out for the successor model, the CS-4920. The newer saw is not that great. It has a plastic case.

If I were to get the CS-4910, I could open up the muffler, add a deflector, put a new chain on it, and get some new nuts. It would roar. If I wanted to get serious later, I could take the cylinder off and do some porting, which means enlarging the openings to make it move more fuel and air.

Some guy on the web claims he got almost 6 horsepower out of this saw, and it starts at 3.5, supposedly. Echo won’t say, but saw nerds claim this is the figure.

There are people running 24″ bars on this saw, which is pretty neat. It only weighs 10.4 pounds. The CS-590 comes home from the store with 4.7 horsepower, it weighs 13.2 pounds, and it starts life with a 20″ bar.

I don’t want another saw with a long bar, but it goes to show what a bored guy with some tools can do. I would want the new saw to be light, easy to move around, and insanely powerful.

Modifying the saw would void the warranty, but Echo doesn’t like honoring its warranties anyway. If you want a saw the manufacturer will stand behind, Echo is not for you.

Do you have a 16″ saw? If so, I have interesting news.

Echo saws come with bars and chains made by Oregon. Oregon has a website. It says the CS-501P takes a Q66 full-chisel chain, and it says the CS-4910 takes a 20LPX066G. I already have one or two of the latter.

I could not figure out what made these chains different. The specs were the same. I thought maybe the Q66 would not like the CS-4910’s laminated bar.

I emailed Oregon, and they said it’s the same chain in different packaging. So you pay $27 for the Q66 in one package, or you pay $18 for the 20LPX066G in another.

Why?

If you’re looking for a light, mid-size, top-quality saw cheap, you can find the CS-4910 right now for $380 or so, but they are not making new ones, so you will need to jump. You can get it with a 20″ bar, but it will be slow unless you modify it. The exhaust deflector is available from a site called Saw Again, and the nuts can be found on Ebay. Amazon sells chains.

I might get one just so I can start thinking about something else.

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Yesterday I put a CS-501P in a cart on a website and forgot about it. Today they sent me an email saying they were having a sale at the end of the month, and they were making sale prices available early to people in storm areas. They knocked almost $90 off.

I thought that was great. Right now, they can sell all the saws they want without discounting anything. I decided to go for it.

The business is Saw Suppliers, so if you’re cleaning up a hurricane mess, you might want to pay them a visit.

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They upgraded me to 2nd-day air, no charge! Wow.

Should I feel guilty? I can do my yard-clearing without this saw. I hope I didn’t prevent someone in the Big Bend or the west coast from getting it.

Is There Anything it Can’t do?

The last couple of days have been pretty good.

Milton came through, we spent a day without power, it came back on, and since then I’ve been cleaning up the yard.

My tractor has been out of commission for a long time due to a problem that prevented it from starting. I researched it for months. I asked for advice from all sorts of people who know tractors. I got conflicting information. Nothing worked.

I was going to send the tractor to the dealership, but then we had the Europe trip, and we had three storms go by. And we both got covid.

A day or two back, I found I could get the tractor to start with some effort. It’s a pain, but it will run. Since then I’ve been moving trees and limbs.

Last year, I finally learned how to make chainsaws run reliably. I may be the only person on Earth who knows how. I spent years listening to bad advice from people who were supposed to know the truth, and it did not help much.

I have a bunch of gas saws, and I have run three in the last couple of days. All started and ran, on treated no-ethanol gas 5 months old. I have this thing licked.

My lead saw was an Echo CS-590, which is a homeowner-grade saw you can get at Home Depot. I paid $400, which is maybe half what a pro saw would have cost. I kept screwing it up because I got so much bad information. Last year, I invested in a Husqvarna 562XP, which is a real pro saw. It has electronics in it that supposedly reduce or eliminate carb adjustments.

I got good information on maintaining saws at about the same time I got the Husqvarna. I modified the Echo to make it run like a pro saw. It’s a monster now. But I’m glad I got the Husqvarna, because anyone who has a farm needs two big saws. One could need repairs. Also, the Husqvarna has a 25″ bar, which is 5″ longer than the Echo’s bar. On this property, you need a 25″ bar, but there are times when 20″ is more convenient, so now I’m all set.

I wonder how many other people in this entire county know how to maintain and use saws correctly. I would guess nearly all are arborists. I took the Echo to an authorized repair guy who didn’t know.

Milton dropped a large oak across my driveway. I would say this tree was around 20″ thick at chest height, and it may have been 80 feet tall. As noted in an earlier post, my neighbor showed up after the storm, cut the tree in two places, and moved it out of the driveway with a forestry grapple. That still left me with two big collections of debris to disentangle, cut to sizes a tractor could carry, and move. A tree service would probably have charged over $1500.

I took a little homeowner-grade Jonsered/Husqvarna with a 16″ bar and did a lot of cutting. I moved a lot of distracting junk to my pasture. Today I used the Husqvarna to cut the tree’s trunk in sections. I also cut up a 16″-thick oak Hurricane Helene left caught in some other trees.

When I went back in the house, bleeding and covered with grease and sawdust, I told my wife it was a good thing she hadn’t married a Democrat. She said, “Don’t even say that.”

I didn’t mean a Teamster or an ironworker. I meant the kind of Democrat whose pores weep estrogen. Like the pansy in the old pajamas-and-cocoa Obamacare ad. Like the skinny-jeans-wearing waifs who get pummeled when disrupting other people’s rallies.

Compared to men from the World War Two generation, I’m practically a girl, but I can fabricate, machine, shoot, run a tractor, buck trees, make ammunition, shoot sub-MOA, smoke ribs, make beer, and do lots of car, mower, and tractor repairs.

I’m very good at interior painting. I don’t mind killing annoying animals. I have stomped on mice instead of taking them to therapy and trying to rehome them. I’ve shot a bunch of squirrels from inside my home. I know how to fish for everything from snapper to marlin. I can run a yacht or open fisherman 200 miles to Eleuthera with no help, and I’ve done both. I can keep a marine diesel running. I have a basic knowledge of electronics, and I have built a bunch of electronic devices.

I can also practice law.

If my wife had married a boy-band-looking liberal, they would be equally helpless. She would be able to do all the woman stuff, but he wouldn’t be able to do man stuff or woman stuff. Hot yoga and sitting in a cubicle. That would be all he could do.

I had to make a 50-amp San Francisco adaptor for my generator on Thursday. A San Francisco adaptor is male-to-male. I went to Lowe’s and asked for 6/3 cord. The Lowe’s guy and I started having a conversation. Maybe they didn’t have 6/3. Would 8/3 be okay? Well, I wasn’t sure my generator could break 30 amps, so 8/3 was fine. I didn’t have to ask him what kind of cord a generator uses. I didn’t have to ask what 8/3 was.

He didn’t explain anything to me. He seemed to know there was no reason to. Men in this area can do things, except for some of the snowbirds.

Came home, took apart two cords I had made for 220-volt tools, put the plugs on the 8/3 cord, and we were in business.

Two new plugs are on the way from Amazon.

I am sure leftists will eventually start swarming homes all over America, killing and looting. They’ve done that in every revolution. But should we all be scared of them?

In percentage terms, there aren’t many tough leftists. There are a lot of leftists who can throw bottles of pee at the police, and many of them can rob and kill unarmed people with stolen plastic 9mm pistols, but how many can deal with a conservative who can shoot and has multiple weapons, modified to suit his needs, for various uses?

Even gang members don’t train, and they are generally stupid.

Kyle Rittenhouse was a chubby, out-of-shape high school kid with a cheap AR-15, and he obliterated three leftists as they and a big crowd tried to lynch him. He killed a child molester (raped 5 boys) who had been in prison and gotten a reputation for fighting. He blew the bicep off a criminal who charged him, committing assault, with an illegal pistol in hand. He killed some idiot criminal who tried to bash his skull in with a skateboard. He scared the rest of the lynch mob off. Rittenhouse was extremely effective, and his two armed assailants, as well as the unidentified person who shot at him early in the incident, were incompetent and useless.

I just don’t think you can sit around smoking dope all day and apologizing for your maleness and expect to be a real factor in physical confrontations with armed people.

If my wife had married a vegan yoga boy, they would have to live in an apartment or on a very small lot. They would have to live somewhere where there was little for men to do.

Man stuff is fun. Burning things and blowing things up are fun. Steel-toed boots are fun. Shooting is fun. Catching fish and cutting them up is fun. Welding, machining, running heavy equipment, and bucking trees are fun. How could anyone prefer wearing a man bun, carrying a murse, and spending his time going from one moronic activist meeting to another?

Good knives are fun. Concealed carry is fun.

God is masculine, and he was right to make men masculine. The sex roles he created work. People who accept them enthusiastically are fulfilled.

I feel like buying another rifle.

Tomorrow I have to finish moving trees and limbs. Then I have to replace my diesel yard tractor’s exhaust pipe, cut off the muffler I made for the old one, and weld it onto the new one.

I’m glad God didn’t let me become a sissy.

Is Florida the New California?

The Wall Street Journal says people are leaving Florida because of the hurricanes. I can relate. This is one reason I left Miami and moved inland and north. I’m in an area that has never had sustained hurricane winds, and I’m not in a floodplain. If it floods here, start putting animals in a big boat, because it’s over.

Is the story reflective of reality? Probably not. It’s not hard for a reporter to go out after a storm and find a dozen exasperated people who haven’t had a shower in three days and can’t face another meal of Pop Tarts, but most people feel better when the power goes back on.

We have had awful hurricanes here since before the Indians got here, and people have stayed and prospered. If large numbers of people leave, to the point where housing prices are affected, it will probably be because of the price of insurance, not the stress of the storms themselves.

I can’t help wondering if we are about to see a gentrification of the coasts.

As I have often written, hurricanes are only a problem for people who don’t prepare. If you build properly and manage your foliage, you can weather any hurricane in your own house. Build from concrete, not wood. Make sure your first floor is above the storm surge line. Get a big generator that turns itself on. Get a steel roof. Buy the right windows and doors. Find a place to put your vehicles when things go bad. Give up on the romantic notion that you should have huge trees close to your house. Don’t buy a Tesla. Boom. You’re done. You don’t have to go anywhere. Your worst problem will be removing your neighbors’ walls and outdoor furniture from your lawn.

Plenty of ordinary houses went through Andrew without real damage, and Andrew had sustained winds of at least 165 mph. Houses with second stories made from sawdust were decapitated. If a normal house built to pre-1992 codes can survive, you better believe a modern house built to better standards will make it.

If you can afford a seven-figure house on the water, you can afford to build a hurricane-proof home.

I think there are enough people with money to guarantee the continued popularity of coastal living. Americans are getting older, they retire to warm places, none of them want to live in California, and Arizona is a roasting-hot sandbox. I would rather live in Florida in a fortress than shrivel and die in the desert. The average daily high in Phoenix in July is 106°.

Maybe I’m wrong. Someone would have to look at the numbers to determine how many potential migrants there are.

Regardless of what journalists say about an exodus, my area is getting jammed up with yankees. They are packing in here like the rest of the country was on fire. We now have traffic. Tract houses are going up all over.

I hate what’s happening, but what if it’s God, moving his people here? Anyone who doesn’t live in a box knows that Florida has come to symbolize conservatism and Christianity, so they know what they’re getting when they decide to move here.

For quite a while, the population of the state has been increasing. I don’t think it will stop. California refugees have to go somewhere.

We know many of the new Floridians are conservative Christians, because they say so. And DeSantis, PBUH, has been giving cops from blue states money to move. Tired of arresting the same smelly, screeching clownhairs three times a day? Tired of being told you’re the problem? Florida awaits.

Every day, my wife and I pray that God moves his people to special areas he has set aside, and it looks like he’s doing it.

We also pray he makes these areas large and comfortable. In the Bible, living in a small space is a curse, and living in a big space is a blessing. We pray that God lures the wicked to little, cramped places like New York and Martha’s Vineyard, where people are too busy prancing about and impressing each other with their status to realize they’re land-poor.

The citrus groves to our south are generally gone because of the citrus plague. Where there were hundreds of thousands of acres of citrus, there is now bare soil dotted with piles of PVC water and sewage pipes waiting to be installed. If you haven’t driven up through the state many times over several decades, you wouldn’t know this, but I’ve made the trip dozens of times since the Sixties.

Go to your local store and look at the “half-gallon” citrus cartons. They’re not really half-gallon cartons now. They shrank. The price went up. Some of the products are only partly juice.

It will continue. Citrus juice will become a luxury unless someone discovers a cure. Even then, much of the land where trees grew will be covered with houses.

Based on experience, I think Florida will continue to be popular. Some people will make a better effort to build wisely. Most will not. Life will go on, just like it did after we were hit by Rita, Wilma, Katrina, and Dennis in one year.

I saw an interesting article on the web, bashing Florida. They asked people about destinations they would never want to visit, and one person mentioned Florida. I can’t say I disagree entirely.

Here is what the commenter said:

“I hate Florida. I’ve been to the Everglades, which is the one thing going for it, and I’d highly recommend everyone go once in their lives. It is every bit as incredible as Yellowstone. But I would not voluntarily go back again, I don’t think. I’ve had to go for work since then. I don’t understand the allure. The people are so rude, and I’m from NYC. The food is not that great. The weather sucks, it’s just so hot. Beaches like that can be found elsewhere. And it seems they’re getting hit by hurricanes more and more with climate change. I truly would die happy never going to Florida again.”

I will respond.

1. If you think the Everglades is incredible, you are easy to please. It’s a featureless, flooded, hot, bug-infested swamp. The sawgrass goes on forever, and every acre looks exactly like the next. It’s a shame they won’t let developers fill most of it. I have been there plenty of times, mainly driving through it, and I can’t understand why anyone would go without a reason.

If you were to go to the Everglades and look at one representative acre, you would see everything there is to see.

The Everglades probably shouldn’t be included in the land mass in maps of Florida. It’s underwater.

Comparing Yellowstone to the Everglades is insane. I can’t comprehend this. It’s like comparing the Louvre to the wall art at a Motel 6.

2. “The people are so rude, and I’m from NYC.” This is what I said when I went to Columbia University. I thought New Yorkers were relatively nice compared to Miamians. But the person who wrote the comment is clearly talking about South Florida, which is like a sludge trap that collects Florida’s worst. Once you get away from South Florida and Orlando, the people are wonderful. Warm, helpful, conservative, and Christian. I’ve been here 7 years, and they still freak me out.

We went to Sonny’s BBQ the other day, before the storm hit. Two old Southern ladies were leaving as we went in. Me and my too-young African wife, in the South. The oldest lady, who had to be pushing 90, looked at us and said, “You may as well turn around and go home.” I stared, thinking the restaurant was closing. Then she said, “We ate it all!” Hilarious. So much for red state racism.

Honestly, the South has changed a lot. When you walk around in public, it looks like the government has made interracial marriage mandatory.

The waitress stepped on the toe of a lady sitting across the aisle from us. She was apologetic. She said, “Did I get your toe?” The woman’s husband said, “Want to try again?”

3. “The food is not that great.” If you lived in New York City, it’s no wonder you would say this. New York City has incredible food. Here, it’s just okay, except for barbecue, which is excellent.

4. “The weather sucks.” Again, this must be someone who lived down south. It’s very hot where I am for 4 to 5 months a year, and the rest of the time, it’s magnificent. It’s not California, but it’s very good most of the time.

5. “Beaches like that can be found elsewhere.” That’s not harsh enough. Much better beaches can be found elsewhere. Florida’s panhandle and west coast beaches are okay. The east coast beaches are bad to mediocre. None of it compares to the Bahamas or Mexico. Long Island has better beaches. The Carolinas. Hawaii. Massachusetts. Jamaica.

Florida tourism makes no sense to me. There is nothing here. It’s a nice place to live, but tourists should to somewhere else. I understand locals going to the beach because it’s convenient, but you can fly to Cancun and back for $200.

6. “And it seems they’re getting hit by hurricanes more and more with climate change.” No, we’re being TOLD more and more that hurricanes are increasing in frequency because of climate change. It’s not really happening. Hurricane frequency has always varied, and some places have been pummeled or spared for no clear reason. I lived in Miami from 1969 through 1979 and never experienced a storm, but the state of Florida got 8 storms in ’69.

If I loved living by the water, I had to have warm weather, and I didn’t mind having an HOA and living 10 feet from my neighbors, I’d try to find a Florida property with a house built for storms. No doubt about it. It can be done, and there is no real alternative in North America.

If you don’t care about the water, you can find a sturdy house in this area, no problem. It will be way cheaper than living on the Intracoastal or the Gulf.

18 Hours of Electricity

This must be what the rapture feels like.

What is the rapture? A sudden translation to a place where your problems are instantly ended.

Last night I slept on clean sheets in an air-conditioned room, after a long, hot shower, and today I got up and ate eggs fried in butter, two big slices of toast made from homemade bread, and three slabs of Tennessee Pride sausage. And not I’m sitting in a leather recliner, thinking about how great I feel.

This is much better than yesterday. I almost had to bathe in the freezing 70-degree pool. I had to work on our generator with no running water to wash my hands. We had no air conditioning. Most restaurants were closed. There was no gas.

What a difference.

When I was young, I took things like electricity and cars for granted. I am not like that any more. Sometimes when I’m driving down the road, I tell God how amazed I am. I’m doing 70 miles per hour. It’s 95 degrees outside, and the inside of the car is at 69 degrees. I’m in the shade. I’m sitting on leather upholstery. If I want, I can have the great musical artists of the last hundred years sing and play for me.

That’s pretty wild if you think about it. Three generations back, the only way to travel faster than 7 miles per hour was to board a train. Nobody had air conditioning. There were almost no recordings.

I thank God constantly for dishwashers, clothes washers, and dryers. You shove your stuff in and walk away, and your electric slave does the work for you, better than you could.

My grandmother was an educated woman with a wealthy husband, and she had to wash 6 people’s dishes and dirty underwear. When I was little, she had a washing machine with a wringer on it. Imagine standing on your porch running your family’s used underwear through one of those with your bare hands.

I’ll be honest. She had a lady who came in and helped, but I doubt that took care of all the laundry. Granny did make my mom and her sisters do chores, though.

Anyway, somebody was washing other people’s dirty underwear.

My grandmother had washboards. She had one in her house when she died in 2003.

In Zambia, my wife used to bathe in a bucket a lot of the time. The Zambian power grid is not great.

I always ask God not to take wonderful things away from us.

I eat homemade bread because my wife hates American bread. I can’t say I blame her. The white stuff has no taste, and the brown stuff is like eating a welcome mat. I showed my wife how to make my white bread recipe, and now she’s happy.

Bread probably costs us $1.50 a loaf, and I have never had anything that compares with it, anywhere. It’s so good, I have considered making it worse so I don’t eat so much of it.

I was only without power for a day, but today I feel like royalty. Appreciate what you have while you have it.

The comedian W.C. Fields was on his own when he was a kid. He left home at 11. He found himself a hole in the ground and put a cover on it. For a while, that was where he slept. When he was old, he still got excited about beds and clean sheets. He described the feeling of settling down in a clean bed. He said, “God____, that’s a sensation!”
And he was rich.

I think about that every time I go to bed.

When I was a kid, and I didn’t have something someone similarly situated had, I thought God was unjust. I don’t feel that way now. I feel pampered, because I am. I don’t care if the guy across the street has a hundred times what I do. My life is great.

The natural thing is to become spoiled when God gives you things. That’s a choice you make. You can choose to become more grateful. The Bible shows that God punishes the spoiled.

If you have good health, a clean, safe, quiet, pleasant home, good food, good clothing, people who love you, and God, you are rich. It’s true. It’s not just something to put on a greeting card.

This is all true and wonderful, but now I have to fix the tractor and move the downed trees and branches from my yard.

Well. A lot of people don’t have a tractor or a yard.

HOT WATER!

We just spent almost 24 hours without electricity. It was harrowing. Imagine a whole day without a power recliner.

No one is wondering, but anyway, I’ll give a sitrep. Things are okay here. The storm actually nearly almost lived up to its potential until maybe 5 a.m., and then it disappeared.

This is not what they predicted. We were supposed to have winds of 28 or 34 mph right now, depending on which Chicken Little gave the forecast.

I hate doing without power, but I am too cheap to buy a real generator big enough to run the house. We have had two short outages in 7 years, so figure $2500 per outage to keep the power on. It’s a lot of money to pay to avoid two or three baths in the pool and throwing out some freezer-burned meat.

While I was out and about today, I saw quite a few wires on the ground, some under trees, so I started to wonder if we were going to get power back this week. I went to WaWa and bought about 6 gallons of no-ethanol gas for my generator. I was lucky to get the gas. I just drove about 40 miles looking for more, and it was nowhere to be found.

I hadn’t been planning to use the generator, but we both wanted to take showers, and the water heater and pump need electricity.

I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to get the generator going. I did all the right things when I put it away, but small engines are cursed.

Sure enough, when I put a quart of gas in it to test it, it would not run. I took the pull cord assembly off and cranked it with a drill, and it still would not run.

I started going through the procedures. I decided to check the fuel valve, and I found that no fuel was going through it. I started trying to take it off, and it turned out to be really obstinate. I started to wonder if I was wasting my time. Maybe the gas wasn’t deep enough in the tank.

I thought that, and then I thought, “It has to be deep enough. I can see the drain below the surface of the gas.” But I tilted the generator anyway, and gas ran out of the valve.

I could not believe it. The generator will not run unless it has maybe a gallon of gas in it OR you tilt it.

China.

I must have spent two hours trying to make it run, and there was nothing wrong with it.

I had to cannibalize two cords from my tools to make a cord to hook the generator up to the house. I have a bunch of 50-amp welding sockets in my shop, so I made what I call a San Francisco cord. It’s male on both ends. One 50-amp plug goes into my 50-to-30 adaptor, which came with a welder, and the other goes to an extension cord, which goes to a wall socket. Worked perfectly, but I had to order two new plugs.

I got the generator going for one reason: I knew that two things were true.

If fix generator, power come back on right away.

If not fix generator, power come back on in a week.

This is how the universe works. I fixed the generator, and two or three hours later, we had power.

The generator is small; 5500 watts. As I recall, it was the only one I could get before Hurricane Irma went by us. Until today, I had never used it to power the house. I used it to run welders before I installed new wiring in the shop.

Today we learned it will run one water heater, the pump, the lights, and the refrigerators and freezers. It seemed unhappy when my wife took a shower, but it didn’t quit.

Should I get a bigger one? I can get one with about twice the capacity from Harbor Freight, and it will have electric start. I could spring for a real generator that runs on propane and powers both air conditioners, but I don’t think I will.

Bigger generator. Not bigger wife.

I live in what may be the greatest neighborhood on Earth.

When Irma came through, and I was going crazy with looking after my dad and moving from Miami with no help, a tree fell across our driveway in the same place where one fell last night. We had to drive around it while I tried to find a saw. It was almost impossible to get one, even online.

A day or two after the storm, someone cut and moved the tree, inside our gate. They trespassed to do us a favor. People we had never met.

This morning, I walked outside–frankly, I was looking for a place to answer nature’s call, because I didn’t want to carry a Home Depot bucket to the bathroom to flush the toilet–and I saw a grapple tractor in my gate.

My neighbor was driving it, and he started asking where he should cut it and move it. Like it was his job.

I talked to him for a minute and said I would get dressed and come back to help. He said he would probably be done before I got back. Sure enough, he was.

Today I told my wife that if a neighbor came onto my property in Miami after a hurricane, it would be to steal my generator. My neighbors here practice what I call reverse vandalism.

This was a $1000 job, minimum, and he did it for nothing. I could have done it myself with my compact tractor, and I will have to finish it myself, but it was a very nice thing to do.

I don’t know what’s going on down south. I know it’s bad, but I haven’t been able to watch the news today, so I am out of the loop. I spent a lot of time praying last night because I couldn’t sleep. I hope it helped.

Milton exceeded my expectations. It maintained hurricane-force winds all the way to the east coast. On the other hand, the storm surge was wildly overestimated.

I wish we lived in the kind of country where the president would lead us in prayer before natural disasters, using the name of Jesus. We would see great results.

At least we have DeSantis.

I’m really excited. I’m going to take a hot shower. What a luxury. Right now I smell like Antifa.

Never think you don’t have it good. If you have a pleasant home, a car, air conditioning, a dishwasher, laundry machines, and hot running water, you have luxuries that would have astonished people throughout most of man’s history.

What is Left to Accomplish?

Based on weather forecasts, I made plans to do nothing today, and I am sticking to my plans. But I think I made a mistake.

Hurricane Helene’s weak outer winds were supposed to produce sustained speeds of about 40 mph here. Far as I know, it never happened. I would say the situation this county ended up with is 10% worse than the aftermath of Debby, which left a few downed trees here and there. We got nearly no rain during the Helene crisis, so that’s a plus.

I have some cleaning up to do. Yesterday I checked the forecast to see when it would dry up, because nothing is worse than doing heavy yard work on a 90-degree day when the air is full of steam. The forecast pretty much said it was going to rain until next Friday. The probability figure for today is 88%.

Of course, it’s dry and breezy without much sun. The temperature is about 82 degrees, or 8 degrees lower than recent days. This would have been a good day to clean up.

I don’t understand precipitation probability, and it turns out neither do meteorologists.

At some point in the distant past, I looked it up, and I read that a certain chance of rain meant that there was that much likelihood rain would fall somewhere in the area the chance applied to. So if you were in an area with a 25% chance of rain, the chance that it would rain somewhere in that area was 25%. How much rain? Whatever I read didn’t say. I assumed it had to be a significant amount, because if not, the figure was useless.

I just checked again. A British site says a figure of x percent means x percent of sources have concluded it will rain in the area. How much? Doesn’t say. An American site says it means x percent of the area will get measurable rain.

Either meteorologists have no idea what their own metric means, or they are letting uninformed people try to explain it to us.

Experience has taught me this: if a forecast says the chance of rain will be 60% or more, expect a nasty, rainy day, nearly every time. That’s more useful than the weird things I’m seeing on the web. Anything over 20% is reason to avoid outdoor activities as far as I’m concerned.

I am sitting here doing nothing. I still feel some covid fatigue, and I’m not sure I can start the tractor, so I am in no rush.

I’m not sure what to do with my life these days. We are done traveling. I doubt we’ll go anywhere until far into next year, and we will not be able to go any place exciting because of the baby. We still need to fix the house up a little, but that’s about it. What should we be doing with ourselves?

The world has turned into an immense toilet. Americans have proven they really are stupid enough to put Kamala Harris in the Oval Office. Wokeness is getting worse, not better. We are giving birth to generations of soft, useless, cruel, incompetent, spoiled, godless perverts who will make the last decade look like the Messianic Age.

I don’t know what we’re supposed to do here. I am spending more and more time in prayer. We think about things like good food, medical appointments, and managing our practical affairs. That’s about it.

Lately I have noticed I am sometimes bored. That’s a problem I thought I had left behind decades ago. It’s strange to see it creeping up on me again. I find myself thinking, “I remember this!”

I think I had started believing I was immune to it. I took not being bored for granted for maybe 35 years.

I have zero enthusiasm about America’s future. I don’t want to live here. I don’t know how I’ll defend myself when my son asks me why we put him here, to face seventy-plus years of hiding out in a world gone insane. I can tell him God wants people to have children. Best I can do.

While we are here, we will have to devote a lot of energy to sheltering him from godless friends, Satanic entertainment, exposure to perverts, and so on. We will really have to have God’s help, because we can’t generate our own safe Christian bubble.

I don’t have any projects in mind. There is nothing I want to do here. I don’t want to start big things in a world which has no future.

I try not to imagine a future under Kamala Harris. Obama was an arrogant homosexual atheist who was hard on the church, the unborn, and Israel. Biden was dumb and without conscience, and he appointed godless nutcases to rule over us. Harris would make us miss Biden. She is a complete zero as a human being.

She’s a wonderful exhibit to use in order to prove democracy doesn’t work. When Biden gave her affirmative action and made her his running mate, she was extremely unpopular even among Democrats. That didn’t change during her time in office. Now she may get a legitimate majority in a presidential election. The people didn’t get to vote for alternatives. She was simply installed, and Democrats could either vote for her or let Trump win.

Imagine the kind of pigs she will appoint to abuse and control us if she wins. The worst choices imaginable. Disgusting, vile, incompetent, corrupt, and stupid.

It seems like there should be something to do other than praying and waiting for Yeshua, but if there is, I can’t see it.

Maybe I should prepare a rapture-ready will. Will it matter? Will the wills of raptured people be triggered when they leave? Will they be respected? Will whatever I could leave people be helpful to them in a world where demons and fallen angels are running amok?

I assume people will run around killing each other, squatting in each other’s houses, and stealing each other’s money, so I don’t think a will would be helpful.

There must be something useful for us to do right now. I just need to be told what it is.

What if the rapture doesn’t come, and I have to age and die in Satan’s America? Terrible thought. But I know from experience that if I pray in the Spirit enough, things will work out for me. I can’t do all that much for others, so it’s a limited blessing.

I can’t wait for this place to be wiped clean and remodeled. I don’t know what it is to live in a world that works. I’ve seen better times than the present, but I have always been surrounded by death, disease, injury, deformity, murder, accidents, poverty, and every type of emotional pain. I have always lived in a world ruled by Satan’s children.

My patience with suffering is gone. A couple of years ago, it didn’t discourage me as much. Now, every time I see someone with a terrible physical problem, or I hear about a terrorist attack or a natural disaster or some other cause of suffering, I think, “I have HAD it with this. Please get us OUT.” Enough. I have seen enough.

A few people can be helped, but almost everyone will continue to suffer and fail. Most of the people we try to help will turn our help into curses. They won’t turn to God. Not really. They won’t pray in tongues. They won’t repent. They won’t be accountable. Things won’t get any better for them.

The blessed will stay blessed, and the people who hold onto them like Titanic survivors holding onto floating planks will continue to hold on. Nearly everyone who leads a cursed life will continue to be cursed.

People who lead cursed lives generally don’t want to know God. They want money. They think money will fix everything and they won’t have to repent. It’s frustrating, because continued abundance comes from a relationship with God. You tell them how to fix their lives, they pretend to agree, and they don’t change.

When someone listens, it’s like you’ve found a big gold nugget in a manure pile the size of an apartment building.

We don’t have enough money or time to buy better lives for the people who won’t repent. We have to watch nearly everyone sink. Elon Musk couldn’t fix them. Look at his son, the pervert.

I like to prophesy, but I keep hearing about how God is going to destroy people who are against his children. That means the vast majority of human beings. I would love to hear about revival and miracles.

The human race is just too crooked to help. We have always been that way. God is always ready to bless, but almost no one is interested.

Guess I’ll go pray and then think about dinner.

Tennessee Looks Better and Better

Things are looking good, post-Helene. God took care of us. A tree fell over in my side yard, maybe 80 yards from the house. A smaller tree snapped about halfway up near the workshop, but it didn’t hit the building. We have a lot of leaves down.

There may be some trees down farther from the house. I haven’t checked yet. the lights went out for about 30 seconds, but they came back on. People here got very serious about tree-trimming after Irma, so power outages are not as common as they once were. I checked the power company’s site last night, and I saw a total of 14 outages on their map. That’s impressive.

My wife had a doctor’s appointment set for today, and they called and said they had no power. That was a surprise.

My big complaint is the upcoming weather. We expect a nasty, rainy week, so I’m not planning to do much about the debris right away. The general rule is that the weather gets noticeably better in October. Can’t wait.

The coast is a wreck. Not the entire west coast; just the areas where the surge was bad. It looks like the 20-foot surge that was predicted failed to materialize, to no one’s surprise, but I did see video of small houses floating around. I saw a lot of structures that are just plain ruined. I don’t know where people will go.

Sooner or later, coastal people will have to get serious about building for hurricanes. The people who own concrete houses on stilts don’t have much to be upset about today, but owners and occupants of frame houses situated on the ground have lost everything.

Everyone hates insurance companies, but insurance is a business, and it’s not realistic to expect insurers to offer good rates to people who know their homes will sustain catastrophic damage every 25 years or so.

I don’t know why coastal people got in the habit of building structures that weren’t ready for hurricanes. It’s bizarre. Everyone knows storms will come. Everyone knows how to build for them.

Another interesting phenomenon: rescuers were pulling people out of flooded areas late last night. Why were they still there? Two days ago, everyone knew these places would flood. Shelters were ready.

I saw a video of an airboat that had been removing people from an area where there was a Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard. I don’t understand ghetto people. They did the same thing in Louisiana when Katrina hit. Stayed right where they were.

Ghetto people have a culture of helplessness. Can’t work. Can’t get through high school. Can’t take care of their kids. Can’t stay out of prison. Can’t evacuate before storms. Can’t recover after storms.

Helping the poor is hard mainly because they respond so badly to help. They turn every blessing into a problem. They are used to being rewarded for failure, so they put their energy into failing.

My aunt was a principal in Eastern Kentucky. They used to test the kids for ADD. She found out parents were telling their kids to fail on purpose so they could get aid money. I wonder how those kids are doing today. Well, I don’t have to wonder. Everyone who could add two and two left, and now the place is full of drug addicts and professional thieves.

The failure culture is found everywhere people have gotten used to government handouts.

I don’t understand the people who left their cars in flood areas. It’s not that hard to drive a mile inland. Now they’re pedestrians, and if they replace their cars, they’ll have to pay the deductibles.

Coastals need to learn not to move into homes that can’t withstand storms. Even if you’re insured, you have to move out and throw out lots of your belongings. You probably won’t be compensated for everything, because you won’t have an inventory, and you won’t be paid replacement cost. Even if they overpay you, replacing your stuff will not be a simple matter. It will take a very long time, and many things won’t be available. While you’re living somewhere else, there’s a good chance looters will come in. It’s better to start off in a home that won’t flood or disintegrate.

Insurance isn’t God. It can make things better, but it’s no substitute for prevention.

If you look at the web, you’ll see people promoting the notion that hurricane-proof homes require magical new technology, or that they cost too much. Not true. My dad’s house down south was built in 1951, and it took about 170 mph without significant damage. There are concrete stilt houses all over the Keys, and they don’t all belong to tech billionaires. I put hurricane doors and windows in a house for under $20,000, which is not much compared to decades of insurance premiums.

Houses built for hurricanes cost more, but not that much more, and they save a fortune. It’s not unusual for a modest home to cost $700,000 today. Adding $50,000 to make it safe from storms is a reasonable expenditure.

Why don’t schools in coastal states teach kids these things? Too busy telling them Heather has two mommies and that chromosomes don’t matter.

My house is hurricane-proof, by local standards. It wouldn’t work in Cedar Key a hundred yards from the Gulf, but it will take anything a hurricane can dish out in my area. It would take a tornado to take it out. I felt pretty good when I heard a storm was coming, because I knew the odds of a serious problem were extremely low.

If I had just moved in without thinking, I could be in a flood plain right now.

Later on, I’ll look around and see if any other trees need to be cleaned up. I already know I won’t have to file any claims.

You Can’t Sell Shamwows and Mighty Putty with Logic and Restraint

Another day, another Cone of Certain Death. The TV liars are brushing off their hyperbole and practicing pretending it’s hard to stand in 20-mph breezes. Anderson Cooper has a team out, looking for a deceptively-deep ditch for him to stand in.

Tropical Storm Helene is on its way up the Gulf, and it’s supposed to make its closest approach to me late Thursday night. So far, it’s not looking bad. The cone’s projected center is about 180 miles off at that time, and it would take a pretty horrendous storm to generate serious winds here from that distance.

Having butchered every big oak close to my house and shop, and currently living in what resembles a lunar landscape, I think I have little to fear. The juice could go off for a couple of days, and we could lose some trees far from the house, but the odds of anything big hitting anything important are vanishingly small.

My yard is not what it used to be. I obliterated a lot of the shade. But I had no choice. The trees were too close to the house, and they were also dying because they were worthless types of oaks that rot standing up. They looked nice and provided shade while the original owners’ kids were growing up here, but by the time I arrived, they were over the hill and could not be permitted to remain in place.

We went to Europe, which killed about three weeks. I’m still a little lightheaded from coronavirus, so I don’t feel like working in the heat just yet. A storm will be here shortly. All these things add up to an October start on fixing the yard, at the earliest.

This is about what I planned on anyway. I decided I wanted to rent an excavator for about a week and yank all the oak stumps, but I didn’t want to work in the summer heat.

If the storm knocks stuff over in my county, I may be delayed yet longer, because renting an excavator will become impossible. Everyone will want one.

Nothing can be done. You do what you can, and you relax. If I have to wait for November or December, the world will keep turning.

Choosing to cut the trees was a pretty mature decision, because the shade was really nice, and they made the property look better. I could have left them alone for a couple more years. But I would have been sweating every time a storm went by.

Yes, I have insurance, but that doesn’t mean letting trees fall on my house would be intelligent. I have a deductible, it takes time to fix things even when someone else pays, contractors are the lowest form of life not known to wear suicide vests, and some things can’t be replaced.

The sensation of NOT worrying about an approaching hurricane is hard to get used to. Florida residents get used to sweating bullets every year, over and over.

Other people are not as blessed as I. As I saw a meteorologist point out today, late-season storms tend to be wider, so this one could bring high winds and a lot of storm surge to a long stretch of coast.

Once again, homeowners will be playing developer roulette. “Did my developer care enough to put my house above the storm surge”? “Is the drainage up to par?” “Will my roof fly off?”

After the last storm, we saw a familiar site. Devastated neighborhoods right next to neighborhoods where things weren’t too bad. Some developers put homes on raised lots. Some didn’t. Some homes were built better than others. Many homebuyers didn’t do their homework. They didn’t check to see if they were in floodplains. They didn’t think about storm surge or construction quality. We saw videos of houses where the water was a couple of feet deep in the living rooms.

My house is around a hundred feet above sea level, in a place that has never seen hurricane winds, on a lot the government says can’t flood. Before my dad bought it, I made sure it was not in a floodplain. It’s also a couple feet above the the lot itself.

It’s surprising how few people make any effort to vet Florida homes for hurricane safety before buying them. It doesn’t take much time, and it saves people from disaster, literally. If it looks pretty and the price seems right, they jump in, and realtors and sellers smile quietly and take their money. It’s not fraud. You’re supposed to look after yourself and do your due diligence.

It’s sad. You can throw away your life savings so easily, and it’s not necessary.

I always expect life to bite me in the rear end, because it does, so I was very careful. I did my best.

Not many people would defoliate half of their beautiful yards like I did. I feel like a beautiful actress who got a prophylactic mastectomy.

I’m used to being concerned about myself and my dad. I’m sorry to say I didn’t think that much about people in other areas in the past. I was too disturbed by the thought of what could happen to me. Now I am making an effort to think about others and pray for them. This storm will probably be a horror for a lot of people who didn’t prepare.

If you decide to move to Florida, think first. You can avoid nearly all storm problems by staying off the coasts. Apartments are nothing like as problematic as houses. Trees near houses look nice, but they fall over. Concrete is better than wood. You can check and avoid floodplains. You can check and make sure your house is built well and not too low to the ground. You need a roof that will stay on; steel is the way to go. A whole-house generator is a big blessing. Find out about insurance costs before you buy, not after.

Do things right, and you will be at peace while your neighbors are living in hotels at night and guarding against looters during the day.

If you don’t look out for yourself, do the rest of us a favor, and don’t blame the government like the folks in the video below. Believe it or not, the government can’t control hurricanes.