Fishy – in a pos way

The weekend was a bust for fishing. Saturday was the first time I tried to do a little trout fishing in the area I now live. Lots of water, but it’s mainly mud-bottom stuff that non-salmonids do well in but the cold water fish don’t.

“Taco Tuesday 2: This Time She Doesn’t Have Applause Because the ProBiotics Seem to Have Worked” : Dating the POS Way (An Advice Column for a Friend with a Title Shamelessly Stolen {& slightly altered} From teh Same Friend)

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So the big day haz finally arrived.

Mood Music

The Trees Are Budding The Bees are Buzzing and The Birds are Consorting – sort of

The pussy willows aren’t all pussy like yet, but the swamp maples are starting to bud. I also noticed what looks like the beginning of a bud forming on one of my lilac bushes. No squished wood chucks yet but the birds are getting kind of raucous and definitely flocking around out there, so I’d imagine new birds of a feather will be chirping in mere days –

POS Spring

So we’re 1 week (+/-) out from teh calendericacal spring and we have nothing but blue skies and butterflies in the forecast (hhe he heeeeeee).

We got enough snow overnight to be irritating enough to cause delays around the are. I checked out Mr. Weatherman and that punk says there’s at least two more weeks of cold weather – down into the teens; the robins and redwing blackbirds better have packed their electric underoos cuz baby it’s gonna be cold out for a little bit longer.

In Which Sean Holds Himself Up to Ridicule

You know, I used to absolutely hate poetry.  Hated reading it, hated writing it, just generally hated everything about it.  I was a prose guy, and I thought there was something silly and frivolous about scribbling thoughts into stanzas and trying to get them to scan and rhyme and all that crap.

Then, something changed.  Maybe it was getting sober, though I have no idea why that would have any bearing on this.  But over the past few years, I’ve found that there are certain instances where I can best put my thoughts in order by taking up quill and scroll and just churning out some of the old doggerel.

Before we go any further, let’s just get this out of the way here and now:

 

Okay, now that we’ve dispensed with that (yeah), allow me if you will to emote all over you below:

A Farts’ Tale – POS Pooting

Because this is a classy place

&

I am most assuredly a classy guy –

Some Music:

Some Poetry:

“”Sing, sweet bird, I kneen nat where thou art!”
This Nicholas anon let fle a fart
As greet as it had been a thonder-dent
That with the strook he was almost yblent (blinded)
And he was ready with iron hoot
And Nicholas ammyd the ers he smoot.^[7]”

Some Art: (no not that kind)

Lies, Damnable Lies – POS Calumny

Imagine my surprise when aspersions were flung at me recently!!!

Mental Problems – POS Ponderings

Sometimes I’d like to start out a conversation with Fuck You!! I’ve been told that that’s rude and I need to moderate my tone. That’s like only having one drink when you’re out with the boyz trying to get crunk.

MMM 298: DST OVER!

And thank heaven for that.  I was beginning to feel really lazy waking up an hour before sunrise and still having it be after 7am.  I’ve been doing some pig-farming math.  I’m pretty sure I can – at a minimum – get paid to raise my own pork.  The question is, how much?  Net profit (i.e. after feed costs, not accounting for infrastructure), per pig, after 7 months, is about $350 but most estimates.  If I raise 10 per year, keep 1 for my family, and sell 9, that’s $3150/yr profit, plus a lotta ham, bacon, sausage, and ribs.  If managing the pigs takes 20 minutes, every day, for 7 months (30.5 days), that’s 4270 minutes, or 71 hours and change.  This gives an hourly rate of $44.36.  Not bad.  Infrastructure is key, though, as that reduces time invested, and anything I can do to bring down feed costs will improve the economics of the net profit.  It looks like I might have a better chance with pears at my new farm than apples, which is fine by me, since the plan was always just to have cheap animal feed.  Couple that with eggs that can be almost free with pastured hens and an acre or two of three-sisters garden, bees for honey and pollination, and we might have a pretty viable side hustle that also feeds the family.  Well.

Okay, enough about my retirement plans, on to pictures.  Monochrome squats.

One for You, One for Meme