photo #2296442

People are always asking me why I think things are afoot, and I'm usually quiet. I really don't think I'll be giving out any secrets here, just scratch the surface. Used to be, when you were out hunting, and all of a sudden there was a deafening silence, YOU just became the hunted and it weren't no rabbit. Before last year, in the South, our nation's birthday was celebrated all day long. We don't buy that Chinese junk you've gotta wait 'til after dark, we made noise all day with our Daisy BB 'popguns'. We usually stick around our houses to make sure no amateurs burn down our houses with their stupidity. Starting last year, the "sounds of freedom" were severely limited. Then, everywhere you looked, there were signs that said "Due to the high costs of ammunition, there will be no more warning shots". Instead of grilling out, people spent money on things like flour, corn meal, canned meats, dry beans, rice, and the like. This year, EVERYBODY has a garden. Everything's different. Either people are canning more, or "Squash Wars" is about to debut ! Community women are starting canning circles, and teaching the younger generation. I only heard one gunshot last night. Neighbors are swapping specific vegetables in copious amounts. Fresh sweet corn is 4/$1.00 at markets, and if that's too expensive, just leave your car unlocked. It'll get filled with zucchini, corn, maters, green beans, and purple hull peas. These people aren't playing, and are banding together the way they learned growing up. People are stocking up generator fuel, and stabilizing it. Propane tanks are staying topped off. Fences/gates are getting locked again after repairs. Yeah, there's other things I won't discuss, but suffice to say you better watch your step. It would appear that old saying "City folk need country folk more than country folk need city folk" is becoming absolutely true. It's really about time city folk keep their laws there, and stop trying to impose them on us. They ain't gonna find anybody with enough salt to enforce 'em down here. Picture a trebuchet full of squash ! Watermelon catapults ! Yes, George is fine. I didn't go out because I perceived it to be too quiet, and know him and his scurry.