WHAT’S IT? #22 (humor)

Posted October 19, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: Humor


(Every time I hear the phrase “dumb and dumber,”  I think of grim and grimmer — a description of our past couple of months around here.   But . . .  we’re getting through it.  Life still keeps happening “out there.”   And we’re alive.)  

Perhaps a little humor . . . .



I used to have a series here called “What’s it?”  in which  I showed you some inexplicable photo or phenomenon  that truly had no explanation.   Just plain fun.   There are 21 previous What’s Its if you’d like to use this page’s search engine below (type in WHAT’S IT)  or maybe I’ll see if this blog has a “Page” function and I’ll put all the What’s Its on one Page.

Well, here is the latest one:

Lighting up sky

Something appeared over the sky somewhere in China a few weeks ago.   Shook up a lot of people.    Many photos were taken of the thing, from many different locations.

Many explanations were offered, but none quite fit.  And, no,  it was not a meteor streaking across the sky.   It didn’t move fast across a trajectory, and it wasn’t a fireball (I’ve seen those).    It “developed.”   Soundlessly.

Changed shape and added some color:

Lighting up curved sky

More importantly,  it changed direction.

As usual with intriguing news stories, there has been no -follow-up.




Posted October 15, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: Christian Analysis, Duty

Tags: ,

(So many things going wrong)

As the Morton Salt company used to say:

Morton Salt

It’s pouring now in the Spruce Tunnel.


I don’t mean all the deaths —  our five close family members in the last eight years.

I don’t mean Hubbie’s car finally rusting sadly past repair:

Red car

And I don’t even mean the recent demise of my TV:


“Put to death”  by our last lightning storm a week or two ago,  frying the remaining port.   (The TV works, the pixels are all there,  the sound is there —  there’s just no way to input any signal into the TV.)

No, it’s worse.  It’s this.   It’s something that is just so wrong …..

Son’s  beautiful gleaming black Pontiac GTO:

GTO red 260

“It was a dark and stormy night . . .”  Or at least dark and drizzly, slick roads.

Son is a good driver.  The young lady behind him was not.  She smashed into his left rear end going probably more than 80 m.p.h.  on the Interstate.

Thanks be to God that he didn’t spin out of control and roll over.

I love that car too.   It’s the most beautiful sports car anyone in our family has ever owned.   Many times when  it’s parked in my driveway I wash it.  I tell Son it’s to thank him for doing my heavy yard work,  but the truth is, I like to wash it and make it shine.


I have a simple philosophy: 

This is something that “should be.”


GTO right side.jpg380

This is something that “shouldn’t be” –

GTO y 260

But it is.     “Should”  is our judgment call.    Our own opinion.

To paraphrase Yoda,  There is no “should,”  there is only “is.”

What “is”  is the substance of each day.    What “is”  is our task,  our challenge,  our joy,  our duty,   our sorrowing,  our work,  our purpose . . .  our life.

Sometimes life just pours out on us.


Posted October 15, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: Humor, Vocabulary

Tags: , , ,


(A chatty post for those who like to read — and meander a little)

YOLO:  It took me a moment to remember what this meant.  It was spoken in response to a dangerous, seemingly impossible  “situation”  that the characters of a book had gotten themselves into.   It means:  “Oh, well;  forward!”

(The actual letters stand for You Only Live Once.)


News Rock 1

Recording the history of a past Age

I have been defiantly unproductive today.

Apparently my body thinks it’s at the end of its rope;  you know,  too many things going on;  too many “issues” all at once, as I wrote to a friend.    I’m pretty darn resilient, and I’m pretty (almost)  healthy,  but I guess my body has limits.  I’m not physically tired, not too much, though I should be.

What I am is mentally tired.  I guess that’s why I’m always walking around with my eyes stinging and burning, wanting to close down to repair themselves in a long,  deep sleep,  no matter how well I’ve slept the night before.  I just want – enough – sleep.

News rock 2

The whole Newspaper Rock,  Utah,  made by people long ago who Only Lived Once.

So I had an errand today, and then I decided to return a library book I’ve just finished:  a second errand on a day when I didn’t want even the first one.  But I would not take home any  more books from the library for a while because . . .  then I’d just have to return them some day, and it would probably be on another day when I didn’t want to return them.

I came out of the library with four new books.

I think one of them will aid my unproductivity.

The plot involves one of those minor, minor interests you have, so minor that you don’t even think about it until you come across it again and remember,  “Oh yes,  that was kind of interesting,”  and you spend a few moments on it again.

new mt cl in grand canyon

Exploring in the Grand Canyon


Well, here’s a whole little minor-interesting book that’s giving me an excuse to “take care of my body,”  wrapped in a warm quilt, next to a steaming hot pot of tea-and-honey and my go-to comfort food from childhood:  soda crackers and slices of Cracker Barrel cheese.     Hot tea,   crackers and cheese, and the promise of a few chocolate chips after a while.

(It’s relatively cold out there in this Far North October.    A sudden abrupt drop in temperature;  high temperatures in the mid-40s.     Quilt and hot tea weather.)

new party of six

Searching for signs of ancient cultures

Apart from the slightly intriguing theme of the book,  it has the added bonus of being written by probably a Millennial with a warped, hip sense of humor — the kind I like:    flippantly irreverent.   Or is that irreverently flippant?     And slightly hyperbolic.   Perfect for a light read.


In addition to the flippant humor,  there is the creative use of familiar words and phrases.  Just one example for your enjoyment:     The small group of about a half dozen men and women,  none of whom are rock climbers,  are climbing up the almost sheer wall of the Grand Canyon.

There are many very desperate physical trials,   Indiana Jones style,   but they have to be faced and they do so  courageously.       If you die trying, you die.     YOLO.

One woman  climbing  above the main character-narrator,  slips and falls, sliding down into him.  He breaks her fall, just barely.  Not much to be said.    (She’s a tough,  hard-mouthed “modern”  independent woman.)    She wipes off the blood and climbs again.

new cave gr canyon

Later, when they’re resting at the cave opening where they intended to go,  she thanks him for saving her.     He tells her  it was more like “collateral salvation;  he was just busy hanging on tightly to save himself.

Collateral  Salvation.

Silly made-up phrase.  But, see?    It has a ring of deeper significance to it.   I’ll die soon, some day.   At least “dying”  is in my future.    And I desperately want to  please my Creator so that I can be with Him forever.     I want to know the right thing and to do the right thing so that I can be with my Creator forever.  And ever.  My soul depends on it.    I want to please my Savior and live with Him forever.   Simple.

Perhaps my quest, my journey, my choices will have the effect of “Collateral Salvation”  upon some of you.

new patagonians

Portion of an engraving recording the 16th century  meeting of European explorers with the Patagonian giants, leftovers of a previous Age

This little book I read today winds its narrative around the premature triggering of the next Age.     Fun to think about,  but  we were given this present world Age to live in.      To learn.  To find our way back to God and to choose Him.

It’s a matter of Life and Death.  YOLO.   You get only one try.

Risk all to attain it.

It’s a worthy fight.


Posted October 11, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: Christ the King, Christian Love, Death, Faith, friends

Tags: , , , ,

“After a Funeral;  after a Death.”

Hope and Consolation comes in many forms,  but the quiet beauty of a thoughtful poem gives us the time to truly take it into ourselves.


Jesus,  “Rabboni,”   Teacher,   Master,    told us many things.  He instructed us,  admonished us,  warned us,  and prepared us to understand why He came to die for us.

But He couldn’t tell us everything.   We are not capable of understanding everything.  When He told His closest disciples that He was soon returning to the Father,  He said this:     I will not now speak many things with you. For the prince of this world comes, and in me he hath not any thing.   But that the world may know, that I love the Father: and as the Father hath given me commandment, so do I: Arise, let us go hence.  .  . (John 14:30, 31)

“I will not now speak many things with you:     For  (Because)  the prince of this world comes . . .

The spiritual ruler of this world is (for now)  the Enemy,  commonly called Satan.  Maybe you think of him as the devil.    This powerful creature will bring about the death of Jesus (through our actions),  but yet has no power over Jesus   ( and in me he hath not any thing.).  They are diametrically opposed to each other, and that “commandment”  that Jesus refers to in this passage is God’s commandment that Jesus come into this world to die for the world, breaking the power that this evil prince of no love has over us.

So it is:  We all must choose either God our Savior in Jesus Christ;  or Satan and all that this world offers.

No matter which you choose,  you and your loved ones will experience that great and terrible consequence of human rebellion against God:  Death.

(And all the things which accompany our  Death:   sickness,  pain,  loneliness,  bad feelings towards ourselves and others,   lovelessness,  doubt,  uncertainty,  sadness, anger . . .  all these things contribute to our Death.)

And so we here in the Spruce Tunnel experienced the Death of a dearly loved one,  our own Meghan.    And here is the Bright Spot:   If we can hear through the spiritual clutter of our lives, through all that strong, insistent chatter from the Enemy,  we can hear words of  Life and Comfort — and Hope that we may be united once again, everyone who lives within the Love of Jesus.  Some day.

Jesus alone has power over life and death.  He said He has the power to lay down His life and to take it up again,  and as surely as He resurrected from His own death,  so  will He do the same for those who live in His friendship.

No easy thing with all that spiritual clutter!   But it can be done.   And we can have real Hope and real the Comfort that we are not alone on our journey.     Some people can testify to this beautifully.     Beautifully in poetic form so that we can enjoy and savor each thought:


What God Hath Promised
God hath not promised skies always blue
Flower-strewn pathways all our lives through;
God hath not promised sun without rain
Joy without sorrow, peace without pain.
God hath not promised we shall not know
Toil and temptations, trouble and woe;
He hath not told us we shall not bear
many a burden, many a care.
God hath not promised smooth roads and wide
Swift, easy travel needing no guide;
Never a mountain rocky and steep,
Never a river turbid and deep.
But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labor, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing sympathy, undying love.
Annie Johnson Flint
Learn it.  Its words are true.
For this poem of Comfort:   thank you to my Recorder-playing  friend who has brought beauty into my life through our shared music,  setting a beautiful  table afterwards,  and always beautiful thoughts.
Deo gratias.


Posted October 7, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: Bad Times, Death, friends, Uncategorized

Tags: , , , ,


St. Therese of Lesieux,  Little Flower,  who promised a shower of roses on us, 

Meg Yellow Rose 380

.     —  shower on Meghan now your intercession for her soul,   and your   “Little Way of Love”  on all of us she left behind.

We can do nothing more . . .   we  too  are “little” . . .  all that is left is love.


What I feel strongly today, this first day after Meghan’s funeral service,  is not what I truly believe;   nevertheless,   it is what I feel:

M eg Flowers 380

It is this:

I give the fight up
Let there be an end
A privacy, an obscure nook for me
I want to be forgotten, even by God.

(from Parcelsus by Robert Browning 1835)

Usually it’s the poet Blake that I quote here for you.   And often Yeats, since God saw fit to place me in this place and time, this most wicked, inhumane, un-religious, God-forsaken century. *   Our Heavenly Father’s love and care for us is still there, infinite and eternal, but we have so thickly veiled it  that it takes  effort on our part to see through that cold, dark veil.

Our Dear Meghan  touched so many lives, and circles of lives, and so profoundly,  that as one of her friends put it, we all have her  flame like  a little “pilot light”  burning in us, each in our own way,  because she knew each of us, each in our own way,  and she gave herself to us wholeheartedly with cheerfulness, proficiency, and unconditional friendship.

She herself was the bright spot in any room.

In observing all the people that came to honor Meghan,  and the young men and women of Son’s circle of friends — Son’s and Meghan’s circle because to know one was to know the other ––   in observing all these people,  I could see that Meghan’s light was in them too, and they live and talk in reference to her . . .  and they are better people for it.

Works in progress, of course, even as I am,  but we want to be like she was.

Here is the young man,  Meghan’s,  at the end of it all:

Meg Son there

“….A privacy, an obscure nook for me…”

At the end of words.   At the end of thoughts.

Viking blood.  Viking courage.   Viking strength.   Viking-size feelings.

He’ll be all right.    He has a surprisingly close group of friends,  the young men standing by him;  I call them a Band of Brothers.   Who else commandeers an extra table at the funeral parlor and writes a sign with the words   “Care Package”  with a calendar for his friends to sign up on certain dates marking when and how they will do something to support him, my Son?

He’ll be all right, but not just yet now . . .

I give the fight up
Let there be an end
A privacy, an obscure nook for me
I want to be forgotten, even by God.

It’s about feelings now,  not belief,  not faith,  not Truth.  Just feelings.



Advice from a Mom (me):

Meg Book of Friends

When you go to a funeral or to a Memorial, go to it!    Help the family set up and plan  for it, if possible.    Those are difficult days between the death and the funeral.    Sign the book!     Mix and mingle with others who come. Make new friends and acquaintances – you belong there too, having known the loved one, now absent.

Sadly,  I give that advice to all of you because we will all experience someone’s death, eventually, and some day our own.

Don’t ask:  “For Whom the Bell Tolls.”    John Donne had the answer.     It’s a good time to look it up and review it.


(Not the book, not the movie, not the song . . .  the poem, in plain, simple English.)




.*   Don’t misunderstand:   I have NO complaints about God’s wisdom in placing me in this “here and now.”    He was right,  this is the best time and place for me to be able to be directed back to Him.

(And for you.)



Posted October 4, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: Death, Football, Humor

Tags: ,

We’re not feeling very humorous right now, Son and I.    We both want to tell Meghan what a horrible awful sad and grievous week we’re having.   She’d know what to say.  She’d know what to do.    But Meghan’s not here right now.    She’s not with us.  She’s not in this world.

But, this is some humor – for you.      Maybe it’s humor.


We absolutely do not believe in superstitions, Son and I.    I think.

peles hole

But things happen in Hawaii.

Volcanoes and things.  And goddesses, like Pele, who watch over the islands.


And jealously guards everything that belongs to the islands.

You know the legend.   If you remove rocks, especially lava rocks, from the islands,  Pele curses you with bad luck and things until the rocks come back and she is restored.   So many people have found this to be true that the post office in Hawaii has built several warehouses now to contain all the rocks sent back by chastened tourists.

Volcanic rocks like these:

lava rocks

And like this one, which Meghan picked up  a few years ago, brought it home with her.

lava holes

Her home is not in Hawaii . . .  .

Some day we’re going to write down  all the things that have gone “wrong” in Meghan’s life.  All the bad luck, the bad timing,  the unusual one-of-a-kind bad results.   No matter how hard she planned and worked at something  — and she was intelligent and talented and determined —     at the very last minute something pulled the rug out from under her — and always through no fault of her own.

So many projects that just couldn’t be brought to a conclusion.

It’s astonishing really.  Kind of amusing sometimes.  But always,  you just have to shake your head and say, “That’s Meghan.”

So here was her plan:

Rock in paper 380


Before she went into the hospital this last time,  she had wrapped her souvenir Hawaiian lava rocks in newspaper and placed them into a Priority mailing box.

And she placed this one in the box too.

Rock White

Then she arranged the newspapers and rocks, and also put in an address to be used,  one like this:

Rock Return

But as efficient and prepared as she was,   she never quite made it to the post office.   Bad luck intervened, bad timing.     She never came out of the hospital …  at least not alive.

Son and I took the box to the post office.

The box is on its way to Hawaii right now,  I think.  Oh, we have the Tracking Number.   I haven’t dared to check it out yet  —  you know, to see just where the box actually is.   Given bad luck and unforeseen outcomes,  it could be anywhere.

All I know is Pele is not yet happy:



Pele is not yet done with messing up Meghan’s life.

And here’s how I know.    Son and I had to have that very difficult meeting with the funeral home director.   Painful.  We nearly had ourselves under control as we answered all the questions,  made all the decisions.

One decision was which day to have Meghan’s Memorial Service.   Saturday?  Sunday?   No,  Saturday.   Noon.

Which we afterwards realized just turned out to be  our local Big Ten college Homecoming day:   everyone around here has  tailgating plans,  football watching plans,  and kickoff is at . . .  noon.

Of course.

Pele strikes again.

Or is that Meghan?

– – – – Our Dear Meghan – – – –

Posted September 29, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: Bears as Metaphor, Family

Tags: ,

Bear snarl

Bear as metaphor



Our Dear Meghan passed away this morning . . . .



Either:    “…more later …”

.   Or:       “… there are no words …”

.   Or:       ” …  It can’t …”


Nothing makes any sense … yet.





Posted September 27, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: Culture, Current Events, Moral Behavior, Socialism, Uncategorized, War Against America

Tags: , , ,


Two true stories:   Two Little Girls;  Two O’clock in the morning:

civil war stone


Imagine you are a child in school.   Think back to when you were a child  and remember how much you didn’t know yet, but school was a safe and friendly place to learn.

Two Little Girls

Two schoolgirls, actually;  maybe one elementary school, one middle school.   Every day when they go to school there are loud and profane demonstrators just outside their school, frightening them and their schoolmates.

Grown-Up Security people and their methods all accompanying their movements.

kav fam

The demonstrators are targeting the two little girls and their family.

Free speech and all that.    As used by the Leftist cultural-marxists ( socialists)  in  our country, financed in part  by an anti-American billionaire foreign citizen.


Two O’clock in the Morning

Not in our country (yet)  but in other well-known marxist countries there are the eyewitness, survivor accounts of those fearful footsteps and that dreaded Knock on the Door at Two O’clock in the Morning.     

Someone has accused you of something that the Leftists in your government do not like.   You now have to prove that you didn’t do it, but it’s hard because the accusation is vague and changing, becoming worse and worse each day, more lurid.    It’s hard because your accuser is on the side of the governing voices.

Even if you are returned home,  you – and your family – will  be under suspicion for the rest of your life.    In the case of Judge Kavanaugh, under threat of impeachment for the rest of his life.

The accusation proves his guilt.

The Innocent must prove his innocence.


Look again at our nation’s headstone:

civil war stone

The same political party which Carpetbagged the South,  began anti-Black, anti-Catholic, anti-foreigner movements such as the KKK, and who resisted with all their might the civil rights efforts of the 1950s,   that same political party is trying to win the upper hand by starting movements, societies, and actions against their political opponents.

race mixing

 Democrats against integration in the South

Today, their targets can be the two little girls,  anyone not of their own kind who runs for political office, anyone who gives an opinion not accepted by the Left, as promulgated by the main entertainment-news media.

They want to tear down the Rule of Law and equal protection before the law and civility in politics, because Civil War is the first step to their Revolution.

While future accusations and arrests won’t come at 2:00 A.M. necessarily,  dossiers are being compiled on each of us who have ever used or encountered the large Leftist-led institutions that we know so well by name.   Dossiers,  or databases, as they are called now.      Why are there so many lists and categories?

Everything we do creates a profile of us.

Harmless, so far.

True stories:   Two frightened little girls; two and more accusation which alone “prove”  the guilt of a man.  

When one side in a Civil War doesn’t fight back hard enough, it becomes a Revolution.




Can you imagine a movie about America’s great scientific achievement which evidenced the ingenuity, intelligence,  patriotism, and positive contributions to all mankind —  but made without reference to America and taking out one of the iconic, inspiring events, that of the planting of the U.S. flag on the moon?  

I think it’s called “First Man.”    

Anti-American by omission.

A subtle way of diminishing your enemy in a Civil War.


Posted September 26, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: Family, Grandson's world

Tags: , ,

I like birthdays.   At my age it’s a celebration not only of me (my life),  but of my family and all the friends I have.    It’s my birthday tomorrow.   But there are some other more important things that are taking up all our attention:

Here is the last time I saw our dear Meghan . . .   the young woman who is such a big part of our lives and who is so gravely ill right now:
Meghan in amb.jpg.  . . .  well,  the last I’ve seen her this week.  Being put into an ambulance.  The doctors decided to move her to another hospital where “the most seriously ill patients go.”

Son went with her, of course.    Which is my second “trial.”     He followed the ambulance to the hospital in . . .  Detroit.     And Son drives a gleaming black GTO.   

Attention-getter, even at our local intersection traffic lights.

Okay,  just follow a mother’s heart.   Driving a car like that in one of the murder capitals of our country;  one of the hijacking capitals of our country.     Doesn’t matter that he’s a good driver, an intelligent person, and that everyone said he’d be just fine.   This mother’s heart was not at ease until I got a text from him telling me he’s in the hospital, with Meghan,  and he’s okay.  Now he’s okay.   I’m okay.

While this was going on,  this was going on, my third trial:


Daughter and Cooper were in that little airplane,  (over Nevada), heading right into that severe storm over Chicago.   Their projected flight path took them north, then east,  then back west to Chicago . . .  so that they could get a little commuter plane that would take them eastward . . .  right back through the storm to our home.

That was the news.  The actual flight turned out to be a bit better:  about an hour delay in  take-off,  but a strong headwind reduced the flight by 30 minutes, connecting flights were made, they arrived, and all is well, if not a little busy around here.

“Uncle” Son is due to arrive soon tonight, a happy reunion for brother and sister, for uncle and nephew . . .   and hopefully he can remain present for the birthday celebrations we will squeeze in tomorrow.

All in all, there is a lot to be thankful to God for.

Deo gratias.


Posted September 24, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: American History, Cultural Marxism, Current Events, Founding Fathers, Lessons from History, Truth


This is the history:

The Politics of Personal Destruction.   A long-standing method of the Left to denigrate and destroy a political opponent.   Ages-old tactic.   Polished to perfection during the French Revolution.    Used cunningly and deftly in the 1990s.   And those who honed such skills are still part of that type of 1990s Leftists,  which have overtaken the poor Democrat Party.    In America!

That’s the history,  pure, simple, provable, and  evidenced by facts that are easy to look up.

The Politics of Personal Destruction, even though used by some of our Founding Fathers against each other,  is pitted against the  very System of Justice that these Founding Fathers set up – because they knew that the existence of an independent government,  “of the People, by the People, and for the People,”  depend upon a Fair System of Justice, as far as humanly possible.

And thus,  protected by the American Constitution.

It worked well for about 220 years.    That “Fifth Column”   (know your history!!)   which is the entertainment-news media today along with the existence of a dumbed-down education system has made that People, that public,  gullible and accepting of anything  that is presented on TV, radio news, and social media news, reading, apparently,  only headlines that are cleverly designed to lead the public along. . .

.  . . . Along the lines of the agenda of  those who are practiced in the Politics of Personal Destruction.

(Mental tasering):      Americans who love their country,  Americans who are fair-minded,  who have common sense,  receive an uncomfortable, sometimes subconscious jolt each time they are subjected to statements from the media in all forms.

America:  the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave??    Or Americans …  getting weary and worn down by all this?


Lest this post become too long,  I’ll list only some of the components of our American Justice System – the envy of oppressed people everywhere.   Use it to cushio the taser-like jolts to your love for your country:

There is a carefully developed system of  Due Process.  It presents itself as:  Equal Justice Before the Law.

If you are accused of something,  you have the Right to confront your accuser by having your accuser  cross-examined about his statements against you.

You have the right to a Speedy Trial.    That includes,  in the case of Judge Kavanaugh,  when the  examination and questioning period is completed,  as it is now,   six FBI examinations!,  then he has a right to be voted upon.  Speedily.   Now.  Right away because the examination process is complete.

In the American Justice system,  the burden of proof that you are guilty of something is on the Accuser.   You have no “burden”  to prove your innocence.  You are assumed to be innocent.   An accusation doesn’t make you guilty,  no matter who your accuser is.  The prosecuting attorneys need to show the court that, beyond  a reasonable doubt,  the accusation is true.

A “reasonable doubt”  calls on the adjudicators’  commonsense experience in the world.  If it doesn’t sound right,  if there’s some question remaining about the story given by the accuser,  then the accused remains innocent.

If you remain silent,  you are still presumed to be innocent.

High standards!  Now we know why so many criminals seem to get off scot-free.

But the American system of Justice protects the innocent,  even against his political enemies who are experts in the Politics of Personal Destruction.



By the way,  the FBI does not investigate local criminal matters and they don’t investigate matters involving underage people.  They do NOT have jurisdiction.

Why would an accuser ask for an FBI investigation into Judge Kavanaugh?   Because these 30 or so attorneys know very well the request would have to be denied –  a local alleged sexual assault involving  an underage male and an underage female does not come under FBI jurisdiction.

But an unknowing, undereducated American Public would not know that.   Therefore, they can easily be inflamed against such a denial.



Posted September 22, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: American History, Cultural Marxism, Current Events, Founding Fathers, War Against America

Tags: , , ,

(You know . . .   You know . . .   You know . . . )

The young social activist, anti-Trump,  socialist-tool,   drunken -teenager, so sexually active that she had to try to delete her  high school yearbook entries,   troubled woman with a fuzzy memory  . . .

You know whom I’m talking about.    A “doctor of education”   what’s her name, “ford” now accusing a man of unreproachable personal life and proven respected professional life,   active participant in various charities and in his community, promoting positive values among children  . . .    You know whom I’m talking about.  Kavanaugh

It’s the latest soap opera/titillating sex story that the entertainment-news media is obsessing about.

Pretty, huh?  —


Even though a university hired her,   they don’t give her that much money to afford the more than two dozen attorneys that are advancing her agenda.

Or is it her agenda?

Follow the money.  Or in this case,  trace the money back to its source — the same source that so many-anti-American, anti-American president movements have:

The source is someone who was once a young Jewish boy in the 1940s who was arrested by the Nazis along with his family and friends and neighborhood in Eastern Europe.  A young Jewish boy who saved his own skin by collaborating with the Nazis,   helping them to identify other Jews . . .  who were then arrested.

gs glasses

Evil is richly rewarded in an evil world.

Today he is a Global-Socialist billionaire,  spreading Marxist principles all over the West, and often in America.  He’s “behind the scenes.”   The “spreading’ is done with the money he gives to any cause which will bring down American values, and ultimately the American government.

You know,  the antifa-types,  the pink knitted hat women,  the hired rioters against any conservative speaker.

gs looking down


I wrote here before about the many millions of US dollars he is giving this year to the campaigns of state attorneys-general.   You know,  putting his people in power at our local levels.   (And we’re not paying attention.)


Soros Face


No,  christine blasey-ford   doesn’t have enough money to pay so many attorneys.    So many, and increasingly many more,  are tracing these payments back to George Soros.    (Disclaimer:  this is what many people  believe after numerous reports.)

He is anti-American and he actively, financially supports all the anti-American movements,  hiring scads of “young people”   — mostly white-privileged young university trained young people —  to work in protests, demonstrations,  riots, etc.    Anything which will promote  Global Socialism and bring down our own American president and erode our Constitutional freedoms.

The U.S.  Constitution — the biggest roadblock against the Global-Socialist agenda.




 “What kind of government did you give us, a monarchy or a republic?”

“A Republic, madam,  if you can keep it.”

bf republic

I don’t know . . .  shouldn’t we be reminding our elected officials about this?



Posted September 22, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: Health issues, Uncategorized


Update, for friends and family:

Intensive Care Patient

Our dear young friend, M,  whom I wrote about in the last post,  in the hospital, in serious condition,   has taken a turn for the worst today.    She is now in an ICU unit I know that’s redundant)  and on a ventilator.

It came as a surprise because yesterday she was talking, talking, talking, as is her wont;  but she was breathing heavily.     We left her last night, noting good cheer and a bit of energy.   And breathing heavily.

Her body is being destroyed by the Medical Industry protocol to treat a common illness, and that “standard treatment”  is  what put her in such serious condition in the first place.     And it’s put her in “excruciating” pain.  Her words.

But now she’s worse.

M.     She told me to use her full first name.     Meghan.    Purple is her favorite color.

Please remember her with your prayers or at least your good wishes.

I, too, took a little “turn for the worse.”   Some of you may remember that after my stressful, harrowing trip to Florida in June to take care of my sister,  I managed to drive myself home, but ended up in the hospital with pulmonary embolisms.    (You can read the June and early July Spruce Tunnel archives.)   Standard medical Industry protocol is to be placed on a blood thinner.   A new modern one, easier on the body,   “with no side effects or problems.”

Except I now am having severe  and increasingly severe allergic reactions to it.   Scary allergic reactions.

icu bad pills

Remember all those TV ads you see about medication s,  how wonderful you’ll feel and then a long list of side effects?   Well, I’m not having side effects,  I’m having an actual allergic reaction .  .  .    and then they say “if you are allergic to this “pill”  stop taking it,.   Duh.

Through things I don’t understand today,  I was told to call the clinic’s pharmacist and set up my own  appointment with her and a doctor to change over to a new blood thinner.  It’s a weekend now.     I got as far as voicemails to that pharmacist.

Guess I’m on my own for the next few days.

But I need to be preparing for a week-long visit from Daughter and Grandson Cooper next week.

Won’t be doing too much preparing, I guess.   But hope to keep blogging.


Posted September 20, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: Christian Love

Tags: , ,

Sometimes life is gets tough.  Love what you’ve got right now.


There you have it:

There you have it


Rust.  The killer of cars.    I brought Hubbie’s car into our mechanic because  I thought it was leaking a little oil on the garage floor.      It wasn’t oil.    It was one of the other vital fluids that a car needs to run.

The photo shows you why.     The  . . .  drive shaft thing that bolts onto the thing that turns the wheels from the motor . . .  so rusted that the mechanic could push his finger through it.  And something that holds up the whole chassis off the ground,   badly rusted.   And there are two fluid lines that are so rusted that there are small holes in them, and since they are  . . .  pressurized . . .   lines  (or fluids)   there could be a big spurt of needed fluid – all of a sudden, while I’m driving!!

He pronounced the car unsafe to drive (although he said I could probably drive it home safely, but he was shaking his head while he was saying that).

I know this happens  all the time to everyone eventually,  I know people lose important things,   but this is Hubbie’s car.

It’s nice looking:

Red car.jpg

Hubbie is dead, and while he was getting very sick,  he said “Looks like no more new cars for me . . .”   but I convinced him that the “end” is not so near and he could still run his little supply business and so he needed a car like this, an SUV.

It’s been his,  his “presence” inside;  it’s been needed and convenient and after Hubbie eventually did die, I took very good care of it.

For his sake.

But I can’t hold back time and age and weather.

I’m losing . . .   things . . .  things that remind me of him.

You can lose dear people and dear things –   I’m not confusing the two –  but they both  sure can tug at your heartstrings . . . .


All this week I haven’t had much time to blog because I’ve spent much of my waking hours at the hospital where our dear young friend M is being taken care of.    Son and she have been close friends for many, many years.   She is part of our family.   Grandson Cooper loves her very much.

She has been receiving “treatment’  from  Medical Industry protocols, and the “treatment”  has nearly destroyed her body.

Various teams of doctors are trying to keep her together.

We shall see.   We may not lose her this time.   We pray and we hope.   And we ask all of you praying people to help us pray and hope.

Losing Hubbie’s car is very hard.  But losing our young friend would be ever so much harder.

I know people lose important things   friends and family members all the time  . . .   but she is ours.

We hope she can be “repaired”  this time.

She is irreplaceable, as are we all.

A car is replaceable.

Red and blue

I’ve got another car  . . .   the little blue one in the garage.    Life will go on . . . .

Love what you’ve got right now.  Especially your people.



Posted September 16, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: Family

Tags: , ,

My Dad said  . . .




Sunday is different from the other days of the week – in Christendom.  And so I will slow down today,  take time to enjoy, put aside troubles and aggravations for one day,  and think about things I really like to do.

Like blogging.

It’s been a busy week, and I’ve been distracted.

tv cords

Yes.  I’ve been at it again.   One and half days on the goofy cords and cables and wires and jacks and inputs and outputs and “devices” here and “devices” there and digital converter boxes and antennas and a big 36-year-old television and a pretty-new little one.

rca cables

And can I mention pliers, hammers, screw drivers, my “omni-tool butter knife, ” scissors,  a metal nail file, magnifying glasses, reading glasses,  assorted flashlights, and four or five different remote controls.

tv cords on floor

(Not my photo;  this is way too neat.)

Doesn’t matter what I was trying to do;  I’ve got it only half done.    I still don’t have sound with my VHS player;  and I still can’t watch football games – which was the reason for the frenzied electronic activity anyway.

Somewhere during these past few days,  these appeared:


Well, they didn’t just appear,  I made them.   I had some ground bison meat that was pretty fresh, and I had a craving for a big, juicy buffalo cheeseburger with tomatoes and lots of piccalilli and catsup!

But I didn’t have any hamburger buns, and I didn’t want to go to the store.   That would have been the “Easy Way,”  for which my Dad had a word or two.   My Dad is that Marine in the first photo above.

Right there, he looks like a very young, handsome, proud Marine in his dress blues.  But when I was a small little girl, he looked like a big, strong authoritative father figure hovering over me, teaching me things and giving me advice.     Yes, sir!

Some of that advice turned out to be pretty smart, even though it didn’t always make sense at the time.    One thing he always told me was this:  “If there is an easy way and a hard way to do something,  always choose the hard way.”      Not the right way or wrong way;  the hard way.     He didn’t mean make it stupidly complicated like some Rube Goldberg contraption:

Rube in 400


He meant choose the more involved,  the more complicated, the more thorough way of getting the job done.    Do a little extra while you’re doing the job.    You’ll learn something  and you’ll be glad in the future that you went the extra mile.

As a wee little girl I usually muttered to myself when I heard that;     silently,  inaudibly, of course,  standing next to him,  but deep down I kind of knew he was right.    The right way is the hard way, I guess.

I wanted that  buffalo cheeseburger.  The easy way would be to get in the car and drive a couple miles and buy some buns.    The more involved way, the hard way, would be to make the buns yourself!

cheesebuiger bison with ketchup

Glad I did.  I got the hamburger buns,  some hot dog buns,  and some really good cinnamon rolls out of that dough.    And I know what’s in them!  No long list of  ingredients,  known or unknown.  I used flour from a 12,000 year old strain of wheat*,  they’re  healthy and they taste good.


Well, I’ve got one more thing to try for that big old television set and the VHS player. Tomorrow.

Glad today is a day set aside for worship, getting back to God, and . . .  rest!


Semper fi, Dad.



.*   That’s  Einkorn Organic Wheat Flour,  jovial brand,  available on Amazon


Posted September 12, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: Christian Love, Faith, prayer, storms

Tags: , , ,

We’re all looking at the hurricane charts and diagrams now.   (I’ll get to “him” in a minute).

Experts estimate that at least 20 million Americans will be affected by Florence’s arrival.  Perhaps you know someone in her path.


Objectively speaking,  it’s  a gorgeous, well-formed hurricane.   I am safe here in the Far North;  I can be fascinated with the development and progression of Florence,  but just recently I received a text from my young friend V in Virginia who does not feel so safe.

I’m very fond of her.   She has a husband, a daughter,  another family member or two living with her and a house and a home —  and all will be very much affected by Florence.  Though probably not in the direct pathway,  she’s close enough that there could be some terrible damage.

My young friend V has asked for my prayers.   I’m  honored; and I am asking and will continue to ask for intercession on her behalf.     “Prayer changes things” as the saying goes.  It changes things physically,  personally, spiritually,  and prayer can change the course of people and things.

V is a believer in Christ.  I will be merely adding my prayers to hers, but I hope her faith and hope and courage will be increased, and that she is sheltered in this storm.     It is at the worst of times that Our Lord will take us by the hand and “lead us on.”    That’s not my idea!    It’s the experience of countless Christians throughout the centuries.

A beautiful hymn has been humming itself in my head.   I finally had to look up those wonderful and meaningful lyrics which I learned as a child.   I found them.

And that leads me to the “him.”    The King.    I will let “him”  sing them for you:

I hope you will remember this song for our fellow Americans during their encounter with Florence, perhaps, as I had said,  it will be someone you know;  and I hope you will recall this song when you find yourself in the eye of some storm or other.

Humans don’t live in paradise anymore!


If you can’t view the video,  here is its URL (remove the spaces)  – and there are many other fine singers who do a good job on this hymn:

https : // youtu.be/ThsYX4RBtbw

“Take My Hand, Precious Lord”

Precious Lord, take my hand
Lead me on, let me stand
I’m tired, I’m weak, I’m worn
Through the storm, through the night
Lead me on to the light
Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home

When my way grows drear precious Lord linger near
When my light is almost gone
Hear my cry, hear my call
Hold my hand lest I fall
Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home

When the darkness appears and the night draws near
And the day is past and gone
At the river I stand
Guide my feet, hold my hand
Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home

Precious Lord, take my hand
Lead me on, let me stand
I’m tired, I’m weak, I’m worn
Through the storm, through the night
Lead me on to the light
Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home




Posted September 10, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: Birthday, Current Events, Seasons changing

Tags: ,


New beginnings for me – and for you!

I was reminded of the “glories of September” by a recent news article reporting a “study” that found that – in general – people  are intellectually brighter in the month of September.  It was one of those click-bait articles, I think, because it didn’t have much substance in it, nor did it tell exactly how the study was done to reach such a conclusion.

Nevertheless,    September has always been a time of New Beginnings for me.   I thought I’d just re-post most of what I had written a couple years ago – because it’s still all true!



bar blue flowers


September !    September is a reward for being alive!!!     (Around this household.)

We made it through the worst of summer!    The annoying heat and humidity is lifting,  promising the cool, crisp air soon to come;  the skies are blue,  the stars in the night are easily visible again now that the veil of humidity  is thinning.  Some of us become more active in this clean, cooler air!

Here in the Far North we begin once again to share our little city with its Big Ten university with 40,000 “foreigners” – students from every part of this country and others.    Once you’re resigned to the influx of students,  you can accept their  arrival  and all that it brings;  and their attempts to navigate our traffic patterns, lanes, and signals, frequently    passing from the far right lanes diagonally across traffic to make a suddenly necessary left-hand turn.

driver bang

As long as you’re not in their pathway,   you can just smile fondly at the newcomers.       “Here they are again.”

You remember that you must suddenly share stores and restaurants with 40,000 more people,  many of which cannot speak English.    It’s kind of interesting to hear a small, polite, and rather timid voice coming from somewhere beneath shoulder level, asking you to reach something from a top shelf,  or to find some item on their list – which seems to mystify them anyway.   And the request mystifies you too,  because they may or may not be speaking English.

So:  new weather patterns. more easily endured;  new students arriving;   and, of course –  a new football season!       I’ve seen our Spartans back-to-back with da Bears — what a glorious weekend on television!       A new season with the promise of many more games to come.

(Update from this past weekend:  BOTH my teams lost in the last moments of their games.   Sheeeesh.)

It’s a whole new year!

Anyone who has ever gone to school feels the promise of a whole new school year coming up.    We advance one new higher grade in school.    In the university we advance one year closer to our professional goal.

For Hubbie and me who were teachers,    our professional careers wouldn’t let us forget that  “this is another brand-new year.”       There is an eagerness and a thrill upon seeing your new students in September.    (No mistakes yet!  No frustrations yet!   It’s good.    I’m good.  Everyone’s good!)

As a matter of fact,  although contemporary calendars  tell us that the new year begins in January,  “September”  reminds us that other civilizations begin their year at other times:  the Romans, for instance began their year in March, giving the seventh month its name:  Sept-ember.

poms  And in the Jewish calendar  THIS month,  September,  contains the beginning of a whole new year before God,  Rosh Hashanah.      Of course,  they begin it a little more seriously than we begin our new calendar year soon-to-be seven days of solemn soul-searching,  forgiveness, and restitution where possible.   A whole new year’s worth of time is, after all,  a gift from God.     And then they’re ready!

I have plans for my own personal new year too.  I’m a little shy about telling them to you,  but I can just say that it involves increasing my intellectual and artistic skills.    Some very serious self-discipline involved here.   But it IS    “my new year.”   My birthday is sometime this month.

Morning Glory

I enter a whole new decade of uncharted territory with this birthday.       “I’ve never been this old before!!!!”

But someone reminded me that right now today I’m still as young as I’m ever going to be. (I hope that helps)      And I can say that on  each day of my life, as long as God gives me heartbeats for my body to use.


Stay tuned.     There are a lot of other wonderful things in September!


I heard recently that of the trillions of cells we have in our body,  all of them die off and replace themselves in the space of a hundred days.    Three months – and you have  a new body ( depending on what you’ve been putting into your body for those hundred days).   I’ll let you know more about this in  November!


Posted September 9, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: Bears as Metaphor

Tags: ,


My team is winning tonight.  Right now, so far.   I’m unable to watch it, but I’m listening to it.   That gives me the idea that I can “watch my computer screen” instead and post my weekend activities . . .  and think about how full of things our days can be.

As some of you may have read here before,  football is a great time for me to knit (during the game)  and tonight is no different.    The front is done,  the back is done, and I’m nearly done with the second sleeve:


Wish I had it done.  Those thick cables would be warm, and it’s very cold in the house tonight.    Will probably go down to 62 degrees in here,  but it’s too early to turn the furnace on, I think, and we’re likely to get another warm spell before Fall sets in.    Here, in the Far North,  it’s  like a roulette wheel;  will the marker land on Red or Black?     Will we need the air conditioner or the furnace today?   The weather lurches from one abrupt change to another.

Did lots of yard work these past few days, including planting seed in a bare patch at the side of my yard.    Weather report had a 30 percent chance of rain, so,  good,  seeds need rain.

Seed bed

What I got was 100% “chance”  of a huge downpour,  which washed away many of the seeds.   That’s  not mist in the background,  that’s heavy rain.

Speaking of washing,  I did all my laundry this weekend  and found my lost pedometer —  at the bottom of the washing machine.


That little white circle is the battery,  drying out.   I like science real well,  but not technology.    Took me a long time to figure out how to open the soggy pedometer.   Took my young friend M to put it back together.    And it works again!   No thanks to me, but many thanks to her.  I fed her scallops for dinner.  First time she had ever had those sweet delicious things.   Hope that was thanks enough.

With my small amount of reserve energy left,  I decided to steam clean my carpets:

cleaner alone

It wasn’t easy.   The cleaner is getting old.    Three or so decades for an appliance is old.    I can’t always get the tank lid to make a tight seal so the suction will work,  so each time I emptied the tank I had to really work at it.

I think it was worth it, though.

cleaner and couch The carpets are all soft and fluffy, now, with an even color.   Thanks to another friend for having her carpets cleaned recently — and inspiring me.

Clean carpets were necessary because another floor of mine will soon look brand new because it will be brand new:


What filled my mind this past week and sapped my energy was the Big Decision:   Which of those tile squares should I choose for my new kitchen floor?   Tile this time,  not vinyl.    Too many bad things happen to vinyl and before long it looks terrible.    I figure individual tile squares can be replaced if necessary, forestalling the need for new flooring anytime soon.

Maybe the new tile will last longer than I will, so I wanted this decision to be right.    And so I asked friends what their opinion is:  dark?   medium?    light?    Everyone chose medium or dark,  and that made it harder because I’m a white-floor sort of person.   Every time I looked at the very light tile square, I smiled.     So why was that decision so hard?!

Well, it’s done.  Sign and paid for.    With that behind me it feels like I’m the “new”  thing;  a new person with no more big decisions to make.

Took time out to see a movie recently.  Since I “cut the cable”  I’ve missed the SciFi channel and the shark movies:  RoboShark;   MegaShark;  Sharknado (1, 2, 3,  and 4!)  So I looked forward to seeing “Meg” for my summer monster movie.

megalodon teeth

Actual megalodon tooth next to regular size shark teeth

It had such possibilities . . . .   but truthfully, a nice non-fiction book on paleontology would be more exciting.

After all,  I stood next to a life-sized model of  giant prehistoric fish last year — in the middle of a Kansas dinosaur museum.   Made me feel small.


(From the August 2017 archives . . . )

meg sis

Weird things in  the deep, deep sea,  and who knows,  maybe there is a semi solid methyl hydrate barrier that divides today’s world with living prehistoric creatures?  Who says paleontology isn’t fun!!!

So “Meg” had possibilities, as I said . . . .

This long weekend has come to an end.  I know Sunday is “the first day of the week,”   but it usually doesn’t feel that way.    Sunday is a reward for all the effort and worries and decisions and work you did for the previous six days:

Cathedral and dk blue sky 380

That’s my church building today.  The cathedral.      I’ll end this post the same way I ended the previous post:     It helps to look upwards.

Get ready for another week ahead,  forging ahead with trust and hope in God.


Because not every cloud has a silver lining.

Red lined fiery lining


Not every week is “a walk in the park.”

bear seeing you



Posted September 8, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: Nature


I wondered why these last three days have gone by so fast,   but I packed a lot in there without coming  here to The Spruce Tunnel.

Well, actually I did come, the real one:

Gravel winding

I really, really needed to be in among the big spruces,  in nature, and so I decided to take the “rural” way to the Spruce Tunnel.     There are still gravel roads around here,  some of it very winding,  but it goes straight for a long ways too:

Gravel straight

When I drove on roads like these with my Grandma, a long time ago, she called these washboard roads.  I thought she was just making up her own name for the hard ripples that vibrate the tires,  but  I guess other people say washboard roads too.    You’ve got to keep a firm grip or else the steering wheel will be torn out of your hands.

Or you could just slow down. . . .

It was going to be a good day out there under the giant spruces:

Gravel windy rushes

Along the way the wind was tossing these tall plants with  noisy satisfying whooshes.  I kept my window down so I could hear it.

I got to the park where the Spruce Tunnel is,  parked my car, and started off down the entry way:

st entry 380 The pathway is slightly hilly and curving.    I hope the color is okay.  I can’t tell if the photo is too light or too dark because my computer  is doing its Night Vision thing,  darkening the screen and removing the blue light for the sake of my eyes.  Or my brain, or something.      Healthier and more comfortable.

On the way to the Tunnel, I pass  little fields of yellow flowers with some very enticing darkness behind them:

st yellow and dark 380

I’m entering the Tunnel now.  I’m walking slowly so I can “feel”  the bigness of these trees that tower over me.

st pathway

But there is a problem.  A difference this year.

It’s not dark.  Not dark enough.  Not dark like I expected.    The tops of the trees are very thin, the needles are sparse.   More light is getting in than I remember.    The trees don’t look healthy, and I’m trying not to think of  ongoing damage from the Fukushima power plants still spewing unimaginable amounts of radioactivity into our atmosphere.   They can’t stop it,  and if you’re keeping up with the news,  you  can see photos of dead zones in the ocean,  damage to our western coastline, dying marine life along the shore,  and dying trees and vegetation.     Chemtrails contribute to this damage to our trees too, dropping their enormous “payload”  of  barium,  cesium,  aluminum ,  boron, and other chemicals that damage the immune systems of plants and animals and humans.

But that’s what I’m trying not to think about out there.

I’m trying to put problems aside for a while.

This is the real Spruce Tunnel;   I’m trying to “feel”  nature around me,  nature and quiet.  I’m trying to think.  I’m trying to pray.

st upwards

So it helps to look upwards.


Even when you’re not in a big Spruce Tunnel.


Bar Cross in middle



Posted September 5, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: Current Events


Unsolvable:   We can see the problems,  but we have no way,  yet,  to deal with the problems that wouldn’t make bigger problems, and we don’t have the collective political will to handle the problems.


So, Foreign Relations.    I’m not for “foreign interference”  or “entanglements,”  at all, but I am for national self-defense;  so that’s what will underlie my words.   The problems have been growing more and more complex and unmanageable under the administrations of both political parties, although our most dangerous enemies  —

(Yes,  there are indeed nations out there that consider themselves to be our enemies.)

—  most of our most dangerous enemies have socialist governments,  that economic system which is opposed to the American way of life.   Indeed,  socialism is contradictory to the best interests of free human beings in any place.

I can’t go problem nation by problem nation,  so I will give you an example of the complex unsolvable “problem” of just one nation,   the People’s – Democratic – socialist – something – something of China.

china flag

Hearing much about China on our entertainment-news media lately?   Well, that’s okay;  these people are not into giving us any  information,  useful,  critical,  or newsworthy,  but here are some things that have been reported in News outlets:

You probably know of the huge economic and military presence in Africa.    They are influential in just about every African nation.     Influential.    Don’t let that pass you by with a ho-hum.     Many nations are economically dependent upon China now.   That makes them allied, willingly or unwillingly,  with China’s interests.

china everyone trades.jpg

Everyone tries to trade with Africa?    Many do.   But see the size of the arrows going eastward.    There is plenty of analysis on the Internet, if you’d like to wade through it all.  This litle graphic is just a hint.

But China’s interests go beyond obtaining laborers, trade,  and mineral rights;   Africa’s value to China is its geographical nearness to Europe and America.

china abms

Observers have recently reported the  placement of “giant”  missiles in several places in Africa.    To keep the peace?      To defend Chinese personnel?

These are LONG-range missiles with a huge payload.  (That means “super big” bombs.)   Chances are if  one of these gets launched,  they will miss any enemy in Africa and soar right on to Europe or America.  So why are these larger-than-needed  missiles being placed in  Africa?

And what kind of diplomatic storm will result if anyone tries to stop them?

China is moving into Afghanistan now too.  Of course,  China has its own problems with militant M  o s  le  ms . . .   more than a million of them have been put in Chinese jails;   but Afghanistan?    That’s interfering with the West’s  major  heroin trade  source.  And that move is putting them side by side with American and European forces. . .    How will this end?

I’m sure you have heard of the latest reported weapon developments.    Was  it six or eight years ago  that they developed a missile big enough to take down an aircraft carrier?     First effective weapon against a vessel the size of an aircraft carrier.

china aircraft c

They are now the only nation  who can destroy one of ours.   That’s big.

China doesn’t have matching aircraft carrier groups of their own,  but they have been building islands along major trade routes in the Far East for military use.   New little islands,  big military bases.

china creating islands

Anti-satellite weapons.   Cyber weapons.    Biological weapons.

Rising military power.  Rising economic power.    Somewhere in all my notes I recorded that we went from having a trade surplus with China to the tune of around 80 Billion dollars.    Now,  after policies and inaction of the past several administrations,  we have around a 130 billion dollar trade  deficit.  That’s how much capital is leaving our country and going to China each year.    (Do they still teach what capital  is in schools anymore?)  That’s a big turnaround.

china market

Pres.  Trump is not “starting a trade war”  with China;  he’s trying to reduce the deficit,  that unfair drain of money out of our economy,  making trade policies a little less unfavorable to us.       (Socialist-friendly politicians and media people use the term  “trade war.” )

There is another interesting modern-age threat from China.  China has become the testing ground for censorship  algorithms.   We already know  about Google’s  obedience to China’s demands to censor Search Engine results.

chin agree to censor


  Beware of Project Dragonfly, Google’s censored seach engine for China.   “According to a Google employee who worked on Dragonfly and talked to the Intercept, information about the project was restricted to a “few hundred” employees.  . . .  “What is done in China will become a template for many other nations.” This Google’s project illustrates the direction that American high tech companies are going to implement top down centralization conformity systems and test their operations before imposition on our own society.    credit to:    http: // www. batr.org/totalitariancollectivism/080718.html   (remove spaces )

A template,  a practice exercise for more effective worldwide censorship.

The other big information-control corporation,  Apple,  is also  very busy in  China.

china apple

From the same source as above:

Apple hands control of . . .  iCloudanyone to China Telecom. . ..iCloudanyone is the prototype for even more advanced systems of surveillance.  “China, already the country whose citizens endure the most all-encompassing and inescapable surveillance in the world, has just been gifted yet another way to keep its beady eyes on all and sundry. The iCloud data belonging to Apple’s China-based users has effectively been handed over to the Chinese government because all the texts, emails, pictures and videos of Chinese users of iCloud will henceforth be “managed” by the state-owned telco, China Telecom.”

How long will it take to implement in the U.S. a similar version?

Ever since Bill Clinton   handed over the entire contents of the U.S.  patent office to the government of China in the 1990s,  and gave them  (or allowed them to take) CDs of  military  know-how,  guidance systems, etc.,  from  Los Alamos,  and then his wife was positioned into the State Department,  China had made such astonishing technological advancements so as to become a very real  threat to world peace.

china soldiers

Economic power;  information and technological power;    focus;  long-range planning;  military power;     manpower.   Nearly 70,000,000  more young men than women;  there is no hope that these young men  will ever have a wife and a family.   Their energies are being channeled elsewhere.



An interesting related side note:     Socialist revolutions in Africa,  the Belgian Congo in particular,    the attempted secession of the Katanga province,  is wonderfully portrayed, on a human level,  in the movie  The Siege of Jabotville,  available on Netflix.   This is a tense, high action,  heartbreaking true story of an Irish regiment under the command of the “peacekeeping”  United Nations.

(The story is compelling in itself,  but it will give you a sense of the chaos in Africa as the revolutions of the 20th century were occurring.     Unfortunately,  these revolutions have resulted in continued civil war,  lawlessness, economic failure,  starvation, and a ready playground for corporate “health”  experiments, as well as economic exploitation.  )

The movie is concerned with just a few Irish men and what happened to them — and I cried as I watched and read what the final outcome was.








Posted September 2, 2018 by thesprucetunnel
Categories: Backyard Pond, Nature

Tags: , ,

It’s still Sunday.  Seems a shame to focus on those Unsolvable worldly Problems right now,  so I’ll report a little spiritual matter that came up recently, from a combination of sources.


It began with a quiet evening with Son on my back deck.   I remarked how lately I’d  been appreciating a beautiful portion of my back yard.

Green pathways 350

Some of you have seen my back yard before,  but  this year I had made sure that grass grew on that pathway connecting the two parts of the yard.  (The camera didn’t pick up the bright green of the pathway.)    I had thought it looked nice with a dirt path,  you know, like a natural deer path?  But this year I think the green pathway looks nice,  and it’s more inviting.  Gray rock on one side, old leaves on the other side.

That evening on the deck was still and quiet.  The water in the pond had a shining surface, and looked cool and pleasing.

Deck Left Aug 20 350


“Green Pathways”   +    “Still  Waters”   =   I couldn’t help thinking of the “23rd Psalm (according to Jewish numbering).

lamb not wanting

“The Lord is my Shepherd,  I shall not want.  He makes me to lie down in green pastures.  He leadeth me beside still waters . . .”

At one time this Psalm was not only common knowledge,  but also a great comfort to  most Americans.   Today,  it is practically unknown,  unless you go to a Bible-reading church.    I memorized it as a child, of course;  we “had” to,  but I almost immediately understood its importance and deep,  rich meaning that continues to comfort.

What’s so special about “green pathways and still waters”?    They are  everything a little lamb would need.    They are a symbol for everything a whole flock of sheep would need!   The sheep who follow a  good and skillful shepherd will never be in want.

lamb sit and wait

There are several books written by men who have been shepherds and who know sheep well.

lamb book  According to these books, lambs are cute,  but they’re really,  really dumb, and they can’t take care of themselves.   When they grow up to be sheep,  they don’t get any smarter.   They’ll follow anything that looks like a good idea to them.  They’ll eat food that is bad for them.   They don’t realize they need fresh water and rest.    Stress kills them,  sooner or later.      And they don’t see danger coming until it’s too late!

But a good shepherd loves them and takes good care of them anyway.

And here is the connection to us:  The Bible says  “We all like sheep have gone astray. . .”

Of all the animals in the world,   the sheep most thoroughly resembles – us!

You know that Jesus has called Himself The Good Shepherd.   “Ego sum Pastor bonus.”   Why does He care so much “that we have everything we need”?

One answer.  Because he bought us!

He bought and paid for each one of us.

With His life:

lamb sacrificed


Some want to be counted with Jesus,  the Good Shepherd.

lamb knows voice


They will be all right.  They will lack nothing.  They won’t go astray.  And they will make it to Heaven,  following every moment, every step in His footsteps.


Bar Cross in middle


Of course,  not every human being chooses to be in His flock.    They want to do life their own way.   They want to choose their own path.  I don’t know where they’re heading.

Maybe they should take it from the shepherd,  David, and read that Psalm  (Psalm  22,  traditional Christian numbering,   or Psalm 23, Jewish numbering.)

Maybe people should try memorizing it.   “It’s the Psalm that keeps on giving!”