The Druid within

The hex continues. An overcast sky again thwarts the plan to lay out a  summer solstice sunrise vector on the grounds of Camp J. It would cross the winter line scribed and marked with stones several years ago.

Yeah, I know I could just look it up in the astronomical almanac and plot it with a compass, but that violates the spirit of the thing. The ancient Celtic priests would be displeased.

Oh well, maybe next year.

Which reminds me of a confusing point in the Druidic liturgy. Everything I read directs me to get woaded up and dance naked around an oak tree or stele (something phallic, anyway)  on the first day of winter.

But I can't find a similar ritual ordained for the summer solstice when a devout pagan would stand a lesser chance of his  personal stele freezing, turning black, and falling off.

Maybe that's why there aren't many Druids anymore.

Merchanting Death in Bucolia

... and here, from W-T-M-R,   your weekend market report! (Sound of 66 wpm Model 15 teleprinter up and out)

--The 8 3/8-inc SW K22, as near-new, in box  --$740

--.38 H&R breaktop in ..38SW, very good -- $165

--Marlin Glenfield Model 60 with cheap scope -- $100

-- Hardware store branded .410 single, pretty good -- $105

--Early Marlin 12 gauge pump (Win. 97ish) very rough -- $125

--Winchester 97,  worse than the Marlin --$265

--Remington 572 (.22 pump), pretty good -- $355

--Tarted up Ruger 10-22, checkered walnut, near mint, 3 mags -- $265

--Remington 870 3", rib, very good -- $280

--Remington 700 in .270 Win, about unfired, Leupold 3x9 -- $600 

---

And that's what some lethal stuff is worth at a country auction in the northern plains.

Your reporter was in the K22 action through the 600s but, in the end, left with all but an even $50 of his wad still apocket while still acquiring enough to keep him busy the rest of the weekend -- sorting, cleaning, planning, gloating.

The swag:

A dandy pair of almost unused ancient Dreml tools -- one of the early rotaries and a  1/3 sheet sander, a tank weighing about three times as much as a modern counterpart.

A nice junk box holding bits, wrenches, and even a brass and rosewood try square.

A draw    tow bar to be converted into a combination dethatcher and driveway gravel stirrer-upper.

A hefty scissors jack, unneeded except in the sense that no man can ever have too many jacks.

And, Ta-Da, a mint -- never-sharpened -- CaseXX four-inch hunter from about the '70s or 80s. Did I mention that no man can ever own too many knives? 

Stupid Chinese Person

The AP reports, "In a China awash with fake iPhones, pirated DVDs and knockoff Louis Vuitton bags, rice trader Lin Chunping took fakery to a whole new level: He invented a U.S. bank and claimed he bought it."


Understanding the term "bank" to mean a place where actual wealth is kept and prudently managed, I wonder why Lin went to all the bother of dreaming up a new phony bank.

Why didn't he just buy the Bank of America? Or the United States Federal Reserve  System?

Fathers and Sons, 1968