@PINELANDGHOSTX@Kronykal That’s me too!! Moved from my birthplace in Appalachia to redneck country in my 20’s. Fit right in…but I did notice that rednecks seem to talk a little bit about what they are going to do, while the Appalachian has already done it and hid the evidence….
I for one really enjoy your posts. I learn from your aviation posts. I relate some of your more personal posts…and even if I dont directly relate to something, I enjoy your “story line”. I wish you wouldnt change a thing. But if you feel you should, so be it. I’ll be watching for your return. You are one of my favorite follows.
@johnkonrad This actually sounds pretty cool. I have long wanted to “hop a freighter” Traveling The Equator style. I’ve been offshore at night on our boat…and while it’s beautiful…we are not that far off, not traveling to a foreign port, etc.
I really enjoy following you and have learned a lot from your posts. I feel pretty invested in you…and in the weird way of social media…like I know you. So hearing about this upsets me beyond something in the abstract …..as if I have found out this happened to one of my friends. I am so sorry you and your family experienced this. It pisses me off. This should never happen to anyone in our Country. No wonder you are so outspoken when you see things that are not right. I appreciate you. And again, I am so very sorry you have to carry this memory, but how fantastic that you and your family have made it through.
I’m voting this as one of the best, feel good videos you’ll see on X today. This fawn is very young. They lose their spots when they are 3 to 4 months old! Curiously adorable ☺️
I BET YOU DIDN'Y KNOW ABOUT THIS: AFTER FLIGHT 77 HIT THE PENTAGON ON 9/11, THE FOLLOWING HAPPENED.
A daycare facility inside the Pentagon had many children, including infants
who were in heavy cribs. The daycare supervisor, looking at all the
children they needed to evacuate, was in a panic over what they could do.
There were many children, mostly toddlers, as well as the infants who
would need to be taken out with the cribs. There was no time to try to
bundle them into carriers and strollers.
Just then a young Marine came running into the center and asked what they
needed. After hearing what the center director was trying to do, he ran
back out into the hallway and disappeared. The director thought, "Well,
here we are, on our own."
About 2 minutes later, that Marine returned with 40 other Marines in tow.
Each of them grabbed a crib with a child, and the rest started gathering up
toddlers.
The director and her staff then helped them take all the children out of
the center and down toward the park near the Potomac .
Once they got about 3/4 of a mile outside the building, the Marines stopped
in the park, and then did a fabulous thing - they formed a circle with the
cribs, which were quite sturdy and heavy, like the covered wagons in the
Old West.
Inside this circle of cribs, they put the toddlers, to keep them from
wandering off. Outside this circle were the 40 Marines, forming a perimeter
around the children and waiting for instructions. There they remained until
the parents could be notified and come get their children.
The chaplain then said, "I don't think any of us saw nor heard of this on
any of the news stories of the day. It was an incredible story of our men
there.” There wasn't a dry eye in the room.
The thought of those Marines and what they did and how fast they reacted;
could we expect any less from them? It was one of the most touching stories
from the Pentagon.
It's the military, not the politicians that ensures our right to life,
liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It's the military who salutes the
flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag.
If you care to offer the smallest token of recognition and appreciation for
the military, please pass this on and pray for our men and women, who have
served and are currently serving our country, and honor the memory of those
who have given the ultimate sacrifice!
God Bless The USA!
Never forget!!!
@SECNAV@johnkonrad How in the world is @SECNAV still “Acting”. This is just one of many bold, decisive actions and communications I have seen from him. So impressive and refreshing.
Iceland has a breed of sheep that nobody breeds for meat, because for a thousand years it has been bred for one quality only. Judgement.
They are called forystufe. Leader sheep. Taller, longer in the leg, narrower through the body, oddly marked, and always at the front, with their heads up while the rest of the flock has its head down. When they move, the flock moves. Nobody votes.
A proven leader sold for two or three times the price of a good sheep. Bloodlines became famous. When a great one died, the farm kept the head.
And the claim attached to them sounds like folklore until you read the records. They know the weather is coming, sometimes a full day out. If the leader will not leave the barn on a morning that looks perfectly fine, you do not move the flock. Farmers arranged their winters around the opinion of a sheep, and wrote it down as fact.
Autumn round-up, 1884. A large flock is being driven across the interior when a blizzard comes down on open sand and rock. Every landmark goes. You cannot pitch a tent on that ground and turning back is worse than going on.
At the front is a ram called Surtur, from Svinavatn, already known as a superior leader. The fjallkongur, the man running the round-up, makes a decision. He hands the whole thing to the sheep and tells his men to stay together.
A third of the way across, Surtur stops, turns, and walks back down through the flock to find the men. His face is packed solid with ice and he cannot see. They clear it. He returns to the front and walks back into the weather.
He comes back for the same service several more times that night. Nobody has to fetch him.
Then he stops and will not move at all. The men feel about and find grass under their boots, which tells them they are off the desert and nothing else whatsoever.
At dawn the storm eases and they work out where they are.
They are standing on the exact spot the round-up stops every year after crossing the sands. Surtur had halted there since he was a lamb. Afterwards the fjallkongur told his owner that without the ram, men would have died out there as well as sheep.
There are fewer than 1,500 leader sheep left, all of them descended from one district in the north east. Iceland recognised them as a breed of their own in 2017. There is a small museum out there, run by a local teacher, with the heads of the great ones on the wall and a coffee blend named after the animals. The saying on the wall is that if you wear clothes made from their wool, you will always find your way home.
Genetic work has since confirmed they really are distinct from every other Icelandic sheep. The folklore was right. Folklore usually is, out where the weather kills people.
No laboratory. No pedigree software. No genome. Just farmer after farmer, century after century, watching which animal was at the front when the light went, and breeding from that one.
A thousand years of selecting a sheep for its judgement, and at the end of it they built it a museum.
And here we are, in the country that calls them stupid.