Timestepper

For us Vols fans: Cute parody of Blake Shelton's "Boys Round Here" courtesy WIVK.     Vols Round Here    

Where we live different "charities" set up at a nearby intersection on both North and Southbound sides of the traffic lights to solicit donations. The local volunteer Fire Department uses firemen's boots for their "collection buckets." They also make yearly "phone drives."   On their last "phone drive" I was having a crappy day (been a lot of those this year). Now, bear in mind the local Vol FD is one charity my wife and I agree to ALWAYS support, but like I said, I was having a crappy day and trying to explain that it wasn't because I didn't want to donate so much as the fact that I couldn't to a pushy donation seeker didn't make it any less crappy. Frustrated and exasperated I finally blurted out, "Look, I think you guys are the cat's ass, but I'm newly disabled and dead f*cking broke - keep needling me and the next time the guy sticks the boot in my truck window, I'm rolling up the window and hitting the gas and I don't care what color the f*cking light is!" There was a long pause and then a chuckle and the guy said, "Okay. Well, I guess I had that one coming. God bless you, brother, I hope your days get brighter." I thanked him politely and he hung up.   Guess I'll have to double up on the boot donation because my wife is betting that they don't even call us next year...     ...TS...

My Rangefinder was my dad.  From the time I was about six years old on, while hunting, fishing or just out walking he'd routinely ask me the specific distance to a particular object or objects (mulberry tree, fire hydrant, fence post, pasture fence, treeline, ect...) at distances from 10 to 500 or so yards, and then we'd pace it off to see how close my guess was. By the time I was in my mid-teens I'd gotten pretty good at judging distance. In my mid-twenties I was winning bets at it. Kept the practice up off and on until my accident earlier this year.   Certainly not a subsitute for the high accuracy, high tech gizmos we have today, but it served me well for many years and I didn't have to worry about it getting fouled by weather or losing it, or someone stealing it or the batteries going dead...

Oh, believe me, it is good.  :pleased:    One of our favorite ways to eat them is warmed slightly and just spooned over Old Fashioned Vanilla ice cream. And if you use them for a peach cobbler at Thanks Giving dinner (pour off the syrup and use it in your candied yam recipe) your in-laws won't leave until you wave the empty cobbler pan in front of them to lure them to the car. :yum:

Sure! Here it is:   Timestepper's Brandied Peaches with Cinnamon kicker          6 pounds small to medium ripe peaches 3 cups water 2 pounds sugar (4 cups) 1 pint brandy  1/3 to1/2 stick cinnamon bark per jar 1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Using the tip of a paring knife, make a shallow “X” in the bottom of each peach. Add the peaches, one at a time, to the boiling water and cook for 1 minute. Remove the peach from the water and plunge into a bowl of ice water. Repeat with the remaining peaches. Peel off the skins, then pit the fruit and quarter the flesh. 2. In another large pot, combine 3 cups water and the sugar and bring to a boil. Add the peaches and simmer until just soft. 3. Have the jars, bands and new lids scalded and ready. (To scald, dip the jars and rims in boiling water. You don’t need to sterilize the jars, as you will be processing them for more than 10 minutes.) Gently pack the peaches into the jars, adding 1/3 to 1/2 stick (about 1 1/2 - 2 inches) cinnamon bark to each jar. 4. Add 1/2 pint brandy to the leftover syrup and boil until it thickens slightly, then spoon it over the fruit, filling the jars 3/4 full. Use a butter knife to release any air bubbles caught in the jars. Pour in enough brandy to fill the jars, leaving 1/4 inch of headroom. Wipe the rims, cover with the lids and screw on the bands fingertip-tight. Place the jars on a rack in a big pot and cover with 2 to 3 inches of water. Cover the pot and bring to a boil over high heat, then lower the heat to medium and gently boil for 20 minutes. Remove the cover and then, after about 5 minutes, remove the jars. Allow them to cool, untouched, for 4 to 6 hours. Check the seals and store in a cool, dark place for up to a year. Refrigerate after opening.   NOTE: You can eat them "fresh", but they're much better if you age them at least a week - preferably two. They'll really hit their prime at about 5 - 6 monrths (right around Christmas time if you can them in mid-July/early August). And you can leave out the cinnamon, but I think it adds a nice touch without overpowering the peaches.   Enjoy!     :hat:     ...TS...  

Yep, that's what he's describing.   I've told this story many times elsewhere while demonstrating/teaching flint & steel firestarting so I guess I can share it here as well: When I was 19 (33 years ago, just to give an idea of how long I've been doing this), I was backpacking in the Colorado Rockies. Specifically, having just enlisted in the Army, I was <roughly> following the Rocky Mountain Trail from Durango to Denver for one last "freedom fling" before reporting to Fort Sill, Ok.   Anyway, one evening as I set up camp, I realized that I coudn't find my flint & steel. I'd reorganized my pack that morning and had made a cold camp for my nooning, so it'd been a good 10 hours since I'd seen it. I knew I had matches (although I wasn't sure where they were, either), but hadn't used anything but flint & steel to start a fire in so long that I wasn't sure I could make a fire any other way.   Well, if necessity is the mother of invention, then desperation is the bitchy, whiny wife of inspiration and so I did some looking around and found a piece of iron pyrite (fools gold) about six inches long by two inches wide and a piece of oh, so beautiful Colorado Rose quartz. Using those two items (and some char cloth) I had a fire going in about 3 minutes. (It was then that I found my flint & steel... in a small, lidded pot that I hadn't thought to look in because I didn't have a fire to put the pot on.)   I kept the pyrite & quartz until the end of my trip and then traded them to a Forest Ranger for a ride to the bus station (and been kicking myself ever since because I've never seen another piece of pyrite that big!)   At any rate, I guess my point is that there's a jillion different ways to start a fire. And no matter how hard they are, they're all still really easy if you just practice enough and remember to keep your wits about you.     :hat:     ...TS...

Dang! Looks like that might be pretty deadly on both necks and goobers! And with the pointed antler handle you could always stab 'em on the backstroke after you'd cut 'em!   Interesting design and I can see how my little patch/neck knife could have inspired it. Nice to know what mine would look like grown up. lol!   :hat:

Congrats!   Thing with the fire steel - or bow drill, flint & steel, magnifying glass, fire piston, etc... - is that the more you "just see if you can" the easier it will become until you get to the point where it's second nature. THAT'S when it'll actually become a viable, valuable alternative for when your lighters get wet, run out of fuel, break or whatever.     :hat:

Spent a couple hours on the Clinch Saturday morning, myself. GORGEOUS!!! (Caught a couple of pretty 'bows, too!)

While I won't deride those with trophys in their homes, I've always been of the mindset that you can't eat horns. Pretty much the only time I'll even consider taking a buck is if I need antler material for making something (buttons, flint knapping tools, etc...). And you'll never find me on a "canned hunt..." no matter how hard it is to get around with a fused ankle.    Having said all that, Hey, if a canned hunt or trophy only hunt gets someone out in the woods and/or puts a few more people on the side of hunting and gun ownership, then I'm not going to make a fuss about it. I mean, just 'cause it ain't right for me don't mean it's wrong for someone else...     ...TS...

I can because my wife and I have an affinity for brandied peaches. Think back and tell me the last time you saw brandied peaches for sale that weren't specialty items costing roughly seven thousand dollars an ounce. But I can pick 'em and buy a couple half pints of brandy and spend a couple of hours making enough to last me until next year. And the cost comes out to about a dollar per pint. Give some away as a Christmas gift and people will volunteer to buy everything you need for a full batch if they can just get an extra pint the next year.   My wife cans because she likes green beans, corn, tomatoes and strawberry & blackberry jelly. Year round. From her own garden where she can control what goes into them.   I guess we never even really thought of it as being a hobby because we've both done it, or been around people who do it all our lives. It's just that about twice a year we kinda' automatically start clearing stuff off the kitchen table to make room for the canning and pickling supplies and for a week or so the house smell absolutely wonderful and I gain sixteen pounds just breathing the air...      :hat:     ...TS...

I'll take that in the vein in which it's intended and thank you; on one hand the last time I had a snort of snakebite medicine, I couldn't find a snake to bite to save my soul - on the other hand I hand an older brother who self-medicated himself into an early grave, so I can't really justify it either way. (Oh, and the BCBS co-pay is astro-freakin'-nomical!)     And I'd thank you politely and respectfully decline. Guess I'm wired kinda' strange, but if I couldn't return the favor, I'd have a tough time accepting it in the first place. Someday though...   :hat:     ...TS...

Ummm... maybe after the fact. Read somewhere (several somewheres, actually) that producing photovoltaic cells creates more pollution than is saved by using them.

Haven't had cable anywhere I've lived since 1987, with the exception of spending 4 months living out a motel room in '01-'02. Even with an external antenna, where I live now, every time the wind blows or gnat farts it interupts the signal for the ABC channel. Fortunately, about the only thing we ever watch on ABC is AFV. Otherwise we pick up and have good reception for about 12 or 15 channels - which is about 6 more than I care to watch.

Man, I wish hadn't seen this thread! I haven't had an adult beverage since shortly after my accident - I figure if I can't afford to pay my medical bills then I can't afford to buy alcohol either - man, sure do miss me a good beer and/or single malt! :shake:

Thank you brother Dave, I really needed that laugh!

Sounds like Cypress Vine. We had one for several years (until our Pygmy goats ate it) and the hummingbirds loved it.

Jerky, hardtack  and water. On the rare occasions when there's a nip in the air, a thermos of strong black Bohea tea.

Fair enough. Try this:   OS Some guy gets to a long par 3 over water. A voice from above says, "Hit the new Titleist Pro V."   He tees up the titleist and takes a practice swing.   The voice says, "On second thought, hit a range ball."

American golf humor:   Hank and his buddy Bill were playing a round of golf and were constantly slowed by having to wait on a couple of women playing ahead of them. Finally Hank says, "Man, this is taking too long! I'm gonna' walk up there and ask if we can play through."   Taking off, he gets about half way to the women, stops and takes a long look then comes back to where Bill is waiting. "Geez, what crappy luck!" he says. "I can't go up there - one of those women is my wife and the other is my mistress!"   Bill agrees to go instead and takes off. Reaching the half way point, suddenly he too stops and takes a long look then turns around and heads back. Getting back to his friend, he shrugs and says sheepishly, "Sure is a small world, Hank..."

Can't help but remember the time my ex brother-in-law went golfing and broke his leg when he fell off the ball washer... :shake:

Reminds me of a truck driver from California I heard about who pulled into the Pilot in Crossville to fuel up his truck. Story I got was that he pulled away from the fuel island with the hose still in his tank. As he pulled into the parking lot guys were hollering at him on the CB radio to stop. When he started to back into a parking place someone hollered on the radio, "Holy crap! The dumb SOB is backing up - everybody run for cover!"   Well, that was more than the California driver could handle and he popped his air brakes, grabbed his pistol, jumped out of his truck and started firing. They said he got four or five guys before jumping back in his truck and hauling gears out of the truckstop. Word really does travel fast on the radio and by the time he got to the Petro in West Knoxville the CB was ablaze with unkind words and profane syllables in regards to his driving skills in general and lack of humanity in particular and he had no more than reached the parking lot when six big truckers started towards his rig. Grabbing his pistol again, he jumped out and shot three guys before being tackled to the ground and disarmed.     ...They said he might've gotten all six if he hadn't run out of water.  :P    

                                              "Thanks for the drink, but I was hoping to hook up with someone richer and better looking."  :stick:

Read pretty much everything he ever wrote and own most, if not all, of it. Also a fan of Elmer Kelton.   :up:

Partly the title of a writing project I've worked on - off and on - for a couple of years, but mostly it comes from a love of American history - specifically the Western Fur Trade era - and the dedication, desire and diligence to truly "walk the walk."  To step into time, i.,e., become a "timestepper," while physically impossible, is a mindset that pretty much all experimental archeologists strive to achieve.