I know I said that I would not write of her anymore.
She does not even read this blog about my life anymore. But, I just had to write this out to clear my own mind. I miss her. I really miss just talking to her. I miss telling her about my day and hearing how her's was. I miss her wonderful smile as we talked. I miss seeing her beautiful blue eyes looking at me in the afternoon sun. I go through my life, day to day, hoping that she is happy.  I miss the talks late into the night about inconsequential topics, which in all essence most likely could of just been thought to be worthless to others. But when it was over and we said good night to each other, I felt as if the weight on my shoulders from the world was lifted just a bit.
That's all I have to say.

"The issue with the work is that you followed the guidelines too literally."

Orchestra renditions of Skrillex's music + earphones + LOTS OF COFFEE + Buffy snoring between my legs = Happy but really tired Zach.

I may actually finish this in time. 

Musically inspired methods of distraction:

I don't have time to write and share stories of my adventures tonight.There is  a paper due at eight o'clock in the morning on Long-Range Motion Trajectories on my hard drive that is only around 5/8th completed.
Time to work. But, in the meantime have some Yeats.


The Song of Wandering Aengus

I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

Things Zach builds.

Who wouldn't want to build their own mangonel?
This was supposed to be the primer for the GAMES kids, that I mentor in the Science club, to build their own. But they all crapped out on me and decided to stay in their rooms for the afternoon.
Screw them.
The little incorrigible shits are a waste of my energy and effort anyway. Buffy and I can just play with our new dog treat launcher by ourselves.

Good night, Sweet dreams.
Where ever you are. 

Things I ponder

Checklist for the weekend:

Install automatic watering system for the garden - done.
Build tumbling style compost bin - done.
Lawn fertilizing and spray weed killer around walkway  - done.
Oil change in the Jeep - done.
Plant Hostas - done.
Plant gladilolias - done.
Clean out hallway closet - done
Install new NAS server - done.


Time to relax.

Weekend projects.

Every time I get the chance, I like to add something to my garden to make it more efficient or look better.  Since this in the only weekend in March that I am going to have totally free, it's time to get busy on some of the more work intensive ones.

First off: Compost bin.
Tomorrow: Arduino controlled watering system. 

Vatican -- TV Theme Song Parodies 2013: Dallas Theme Song Spoof

Good night and sweet dreams. Where ever you are. 

I thought that it would be educational for everyone to share my experience today from the Wal-Mart in Perry Ga.
After taking  Buffy to the vet to have her stitches taken out, I stopped by the store for a dog treat since she was so nervous. While walking towards the pet section, I stopped off in the hunting/fishing area to see if they had any ammo for my pistol available  When I walked up to the ammo counter, the man in front of me in line was looking at some crappy looking polymer AR style .22 rifle.  He was fumbling with the action and really just playing around with the weapon while trying to look as if he knew what he was doing to impress his little trailer park hooker looking girlfriend.(Turning it upside down, swinging the barrel around like a madman, and quickly cycling the action like a madman.)  It was at this moment while I was waiting in line that he swung the rifle barrel right in my face to the point that I could clearly see all the way down the barrel to the firing pin. All the years of training by my dad, my grandfather, my family, and some rather psychologically scarring drill sergeants came rushing back at me in that a safe shooter always treats the weapon as if it is always loaded.  I swiftly grabbed the barrel as I pushed it up towards the ceiling. Trying to be as friendly as possible, I quickly smiled and gave him the southerner head nod of greeting as a gesture of good will.
This apparently perturbed the young man.His face turned beet red as went off on me. "You touch my gun!" "You don't want none of this son." or something to that extent.... I pointed out calmly that he was pointing it at not only me but his girlfriend and that if he would use some proper muzzle control, it would make all of our shopping less stressful. Yeah, I know I should of just left before I even said that. He started cursing me about how I wasn't his dad...or something like that, I wasn't listening anymore and just walked off in the direction of the closest dog treat aisle.
Now, I have supported the fight against gun bans, gun registrations, and other restrictions since the first day I picked up a rifle. I will keep doing so since it is an inalienable right of an American to be able to defend themselves. But, this little experience has swayed me in that I now believe that there should be some type of training or testing available to make sure people like my little mouth breather friend know how idiotic they are being.

Coffee sometime?

Men and their coffee.

How do you make it?  Either drip from a Mr. Coffee machine or my antiquated espresso machine, which I have lugged around with me since college in Athens.
How do you take it? Steaming hot and strong
# of cups in a day? Weekdays around 8-9 Weekends around 4 to 5 depending on whether or not I have a lot to do.
When do you drink it? All day. All night. In my sleep if I could.
Any coffee loyalties? Jittery Joes. My first coffee house in college has expanded from a little hole in the wall with their roaster in the sitting area and Jesus on the ceiling to a rather impressive franchise that is always a welcome sight when I am in their area.
What’s your routine? I prepare my coffee maker before I go to sleep at night. In the mornings, I come downstairs to let the dogs out into the backyard and hit the switch as I pass through the kitchen on my way to the back door. My coffee maker isn't the newest so it takes a while before the water gets up to temperature. So while I am waiting, I brush my teeth and wait till my toothbrush does it's little two minute chime which signals to me that my breakfast coffee is ready. The rest of the day I survive off of swill out of the office maker or some nasty Starbucks from the Kroger kiosk.
What do you like most about it? The smell. If someone ever sees an air freshener that is coffee scented, please tell me. I would cherish that so much.
Favorite coffee shop? Best cup of coffee I have ever had was at Chico's Cafe in Madrid, Spain.  But here in the states, I have an emotional attachment to the Caribou coffee on 10th street in Atlanta. I often go there after work when I am in Atlanta just to sit and people watch with a paper and large medium roast drip.
Most memorable cup? Sitting at the same coffee shop above with a wonderful woman who had a smile for me at the time.
Has coffee ever done you wrong? During my college years at UGA, I often worked at a night security guard at the municipal parking lot building. There were many nights that I used my job as a forced study time for school. I would walk to Blue Sky Coffee for a cheap thermos of stake espresso and some steak fries and feta at the Grill. But this was a time period that I was so broke that I had to choose either food or coffee. I chose coffee that night. Because of the lack of sleep, an overdoes of caffeine, an empty stomach, and high stress levels I was as jittery as could be for a British Literature final the next morning. I didn't flunk it, but I came damn close.
Ever tried to quit or switch? Why would I do such a silly thing.
What’s the worst cup you've ever had? At the Books-a-million in Warner Robins the "Baristas" are not trained at all I believe. There is never fresh coffee. I was in there once on a Sunday just to read some magazines and relax. As I was sitting in the little Ikea sized chairs by the front window I noticed my coffee was getting more and more bitter as I got closer to the bottom. Eventually, I couldn't stand it anymore and poured it out in the trash. When it got down to the bottom there was a thick black sludge that looked like crude oil. I will never...ever...drink their coffee anymore.

Stories from my past that I should of told someone.

I saw a dogwood starting to bloom this afternoon. The buds were swaying in the wind and I could see the tips of the embryonic shoots starting to turn green as a signal to everyone that spring is coming. These come every spring like clockwork. Now, to most people it signals the punishment of the pollen season to come, but to me it reminds me of long hot days every weekend my father would take my brother and I took the lake in hopes making up for all the missed father/son time he had missed while we were growing up. Every spring when Granny's front yard dogwoods would bloom, he would take it as his own personal signal from the all mighty fish god that if he dragged Kirk and I out to the lake that the bass minions would be biting so much and readily that it would be as if they were just jumping into the boat wanting to go home with us for a fish dinner.
We rarely caught anything of significance.
My father's idea of proper fishing was to troll up and down the river bank ( Right around here) beating the banks with every type of lure that we could pull out of the tangled tackle box in the bottom of the boat. Now, around this time, I enjoyed watching fishing shows on CMT where hopefully I could get better at catching my elusive prey. I had watched Hank Parker  earlier in the week catch huge large mouth bass on an artificial frog which put the idea in me that if I used a frog, I could catch the huge bass he had been pulling in and it would impress my father. But I had a problem. I had used my allowance already buying a He-Man figure. So, I came up with the plan to go out into the woods and capture as many frogs and use them as bait. My mother wouldn't let me take off in the woods after dark but would allow me to take as many as I could catch in the backyard. Now I don't understand where they all came from, but in one evening I captured around 10-15 little leopard toads for my trip to the lake the next day.
I didn't tell Daddy my plan. I wanted so badly to impress him. I snuck the little igloo cooler on the boat and waited patiently for the opportunity to "pull in the big'ens". When we reached the 123 bridge, I set up one of the rods with a live bait rig and lifted up the frog bucket lid. Every single one of them took the sun shining in on them for the first time in 24 hours as a signal to run for their lives. They all at once jumped on me, on the deck, into the cabin area, and in my lunch. As my father was cursed at me for bringing the little amphibians on the boat without him knowing, my little brother was in his usual perch, sitting on the outboard motor as we fish laughing his ass off at me. For the next couple minutes, there was a marathon race of little toads swimming, off the boat, through the water, and into the bushes on the bank.
Not a single one of them was attacked by a fish on their sprint for freedom.

Just for the hell of it.

Some people do not need to show off their kids singing abilities....or lack there of. 

When the news says that my area is flooded. Believe it.

This is on Highway 96 a mile before it crosses the Ocmulgee River.

https://www.dropbox.com/s/uhob388p4hpt7ew/Video%20Mar%2002%2C%205%2054%2036%20PM.mov?m

COOL!!!!!

You evil bastards....