Tuesday, December 4, 2018

Knife

This is a knife I made of flint and cherry.  I intend to cut the handle back a bit later on.


Friday, November 2, 2018

Glass and two rocks

Thanks to my friend, Craig, for giving me a box of rocks.  The three in the center are new.  The two rocks worked like a dream.  The glass was, I suppose, an old window pane that Sheila found alongside the road when we were cleaning up after some litterbug.  I really like that one.


Friday, October 26, 2018

follow up on question

On facebook a skeptical democrat sarcastically replied, "Please...and no kids were killed at Sandy Hook.  This is my reply to him.
 
Rergrettably, those children were sacrificed on the alter of globaliazation to convince people to surrender their right to bear arms. That was under an infamous democrat Barrack Bombshell. This did not start with Trump, Obama or the genocide of Jews, American Natives or even the civil war where southern democrats defended slavery. This started, for us 6000 years ago when Adam turned his back on God. It is a battle betwen good and evil. When I sit and cuss the news of the day while watching tv, I can, off in the shadows see satan pleasuring himself with glee, confident that he has won my soul. I just relax, sit back and say, "I am the righteousness of God through His Son, Jesus Christ. Satan is immediately rendered impotent and slithers off. There is nothing no thing important in this life except for one. Will you follow God or satan? No thing nothing is more important. As for me and my house, we will follow the lord.

Thursday, October 25, 2018

Is it just me or does anyone else think the bombs were sent by democrats?

Wednesday, October 17, 2018

Cheif Budweiser

Chief Budweiser in profile with headdress


Monday, October 15, 2018

It's Not the Bachhoe, Dummy

     We all know what happened last Wednesday.  The worst hurricane I have ever been in.  We watched almost to the end with no problems.  However when the calm passed and the eye came over us again, Holy moly.  Tree after tree went down, the wind was howling and we lost a small piece of  eave metal.  That was all the structural damage to the house, barn, shed and shop.  Not so with the yard and woods.  Hundreds of trees came down and made an alien landscape.  God is good and  helped us with cleaning up the backyard.  It took us three days to get it under control.  After cutting the trees into manageable sections, I grabbed the backhoe.
     I had not used it in a while and always use it carefully so as not to tear it up.  It is expensive to fix and I am not a mechanic.  I climbed on and became one with the hoe.  I was the brains and the hoe was the muscle.   Backing up I planted my feet, the outriggers, reaching out with my arm, the hoe, We grabbed a pile of debris, pulled it in and hauled it to the back.  Coming back I would scoop up debris with my hands, the front bucket.  We were one well tuned machine.  We removed tree stumps bigger than the backhoe.  A couple were to big, but I figured a way to roll and drag.  Don't worry about the backhoe just load it up.  We did things that should not be done with a backhoe.  We were down to one last small log.  Something I could have thrown over my shoulder and walked off with, years ago.  but not now.  Pulling up close, I switched the  machine off.  I chained the log to the bucket and climbed back up.  I turned the key switch and then pressed the silver ignition switch under the steering wheel.  My worst fears were confirmed, it would not turn over.  It did nothing.
     Fearing the batteries were dead, I cleaned the cable ends and hooked my old truck up and let it charge for almost an hour.  Still nothing.  Called Auto Zone and found they did not close until 10, I removed the batteries and rushed off to Auto Zone.  The batteries were at 90% capacity.  Now what do I do.  My son in law is a proficient mechanic.  I called him for advice.  He was cleaning up his own mess and I told him not to come over, we could fix it over the phone.  Telling me a couple of things to do, I did.  Nothing worked.  I w-d 40ed the screws on the dashboard to remove the key switch.  And there it was.  Had not moved in 31 years, still in the same place, next to the key switch.  The RED START  BUTTON.  I touched it and the machine roared to life.  The silver button under the steering wheel was the horn button and had never worked.  I still had one tree to cut in the back yard and removed it and the stump ball.  Worked until dark and can still hear the backhoe calling me a dumbass.

Friday, October 5, 2018

Big Beer

I was following up on a job in Georgia and turned down a dirt road to look for bottles.  I'm sorry but if you are drinking a big bottle of beer like this at one time, something is wrong.  Probably will cut down on twisting off caps though.  If I can harvest the bottoms, may be able to make a knife blade.

Thursday, October 4, 2018

Old 62

     This is a bud light beer bottle bottom that a friend gave to me.  I wanted to make a different kind of arrowhead.  What do you think, success or not?  left the number 62 in center cause I wanted to.


Tuesday, October 2, 2018

Chitlin Stew

     Years ago, I painted signs for Coca-Cola as a contractor.  One of the guys that put the signs up was black and was a good friend.  His name was Charles.  We often tried to out do each others wild tales and I believe this account of his was the ultimate champ.  The weather was beginning to turn cold and in the south, that is about fifty.  Friday night when he got off work, he and a few of his friends decided to stay out all night and drink bourbon.  Charles, being the designated driver, was not as drunk as the others.  About daylight on Saturday morning they wound up in Abbeville. 
     Making the circuit they heard of a lady in the quarters cooking chitlins.  Like a moth to the flame or a bee to honey or a carload of drunks to chitlins, there was no keeping them away.  The aroma was pungent at best when they arrived.  As they paid their money and walked to the back yard, Charles was having doubts and lagged behind.  His buddies had their plates and not wasting time were almost done.  The smell had Charles concerned.  Taking another drink, he walked over to the pot and peered in.  He was aghast at what he saw.   Chitlins have to be cleaned (or so they say) and these had never seen a bath or shower.  Brown is not a good color for chitlin stew.  Swimming around in the brown swill were little half digested  kernels of white and yellow corn.  Other things were in there also, but Charles did not have time to figure out what they were.  The sun warming up the morning  and the night of drinking led to his demise.  He lost all of his night's bourbon and a few beers that just showed up from the pit of his stomach.  Someone else had to drive home.

Wednesday, September 26, 2018

Heineken Kid

I was not going to post arrowheads for a while, but while in Georgia surveying some signs, I came across the green bottles.  They were Heineken beer.  I graduated with a guy that loved this beer and we nicknamed him the "Heineken Kid"  Out of the three bottles, I was able to save only one that I could use.  The brown one is Bud Lite.

Monday, September 24, 2018

# 28

When I was a young man, I threw out a ton of beer bottles beside the roads.  Now I walk along and pick up bottles to make arrowheads out of.  I guess that is my penance for being a litter bug.  People will come by and stare as if I am a crazy man.  I just wave at them with four beer bottles in each hand, laughing to myself.  If they knew why I was doing this, surely they would stop throwing them out.  The number 28 may be visible in the center if you look hard enough.  Out of the six I just picked up there was 3 different sets of numbers.

Tuesday, September 11, 2018

Flag

My son-in-law Justin, inspecting the 4ft six inch by 10 ft metal flag I did for him.  He liked it.

Friday, August 31, 2018

Few

just a few that I have been working on the last week

Monday, August 13, 2018

Life

Once you climb on the ride of life, there are two options for getting off.  Death or the rapture.

Monday, July 30, 2018

One Fine Morning

     Mary sat in the dirt, playing with her doll.  She was small and frail, but the dirt did not stick to her.  It was almost as if she were playing on the living room floor.  There was a sadness about her that troubled the watchers.  She had been here a while, but still had not fully integrated with the other children.  They were all joyfully running around, laughing and playing all sorts of games together.  Occasionally they would stop by to ask Mary to join in their fun.  She would just smile and say, "In a little while."  All the watchers could do was to make sure she was taken care of.
     She missed her mother and felt betrayed that she had abandoned her.  At night, she would watch the lights of the little village on top of the hill.  The twinkling lights would soothe her and she would eventually fall asleep.  Mary knew that her mother would come back for her soon.  Every night she dreamed that she would awake and her mother would be there for her.  Mary eventually did make friends with the other children and seemed to live a normal life.  They knew that Mary had had a terrible start in life and tried to help as much as they could.  After a while their efforts paid off and she was a little happier.  As they say, "time heals all."  Mary would join the others for trips and outings and occasionally laugh out loud.  Her favorite game was playing with her doll in the dirt.  Something about that was soothing to her.
     The watchers were pleased in the change that took place in Mary's life, but noticed an occasional sadness come over her.  For fifty years, Mary remained a little girl, never giving up on the dream that her mother would return for her.  And one day the sky seemed exceptionally brighter.  Mary and the other kids were strangely excited.   The watchers were uncharacteristically excited.  Normally nothing more than a smile from them, but today they were practically beaming.
     This day Mary was playing in the dirt  with her doll as she had done for many years.  Her mother was always on her mind, but today she seemed especially so.  Mary did not know what caused her to look up.  It could have been the sound of someone trodding along the path from the village or the rustling of the gown worn by the old woman coming down the path.  She was walking toward Mary as fast as she could.  All at once Mary recognized the old woman as her long lost mother, who was coming back for her after all these years.  She jumped up and ran to her as fast as she could.  As happy as she was, she could tell her mother was happier.  "Mary, I have waited for fifty years to see you.  Every day since we parted has been hard on me and I couldn't wait to tell you how sorry I am.  I had other children, trying to replace you, but I could never get you out of my mind.  I want to tell you how hard it was for a young, single girl with no support system to have a child on her own.  Everyone, especially Planned Parenthood told me that an abortion was the way to go.  How easy it would be to end a pregnancy and that the fetus was not alive anyway.  I didn't like the idea, but felt pressured to go through with it any way.  I knew immediately that I had made a terrible mistake."  "Every day for the rest of my life was hard, knowing what I had done to you and trying to make up for it.  I could not wait for the end, so that I could come to you and beg for your forgiveness".
     "Mom," I  waited for years to call that, and now I am so happy you are here.  Now I can be as happy as everyone else is here.  Everything is complete and perfect and we have eternity to spend together."
     The watchers could see the happiness surround Mary as she walked with her mom up the path to the village on the hill.  Their faces beamed with happiness.
    

Tuesday, July 17, 2018

Blunt Force Trauma

As I was spalling a stone with my granite hammer stone, it ( the granite) splintered.  The splintered piece looked as if it could be a tomahawk.  So I carved a short handle and inserted the granite into the handle.  My headache, coming from banging on the flint rock,


 reminded me of blunt force trauma.

Thursday, July 12, 2018

May Have to cut Someone

These people have been burned, carved up and fenced in for years. The biggest lie ever told was "Hello, I'm from the government and I'm here to help you." I carved this one, burned it and then wrapped it with barb wire. He feels that he may have to cut someone.





 

Thursday, June 28, 2018

Oyster Shells


 

Saw these discarded in the ditch and tried to use them for arrowheads.

Tuesday, June 26, 2018

My Knife

Made my first knife out of glass and carved buffalo head out of pine 2x4.


Monday, June 25, 2018

Long Lost

went riding the backroads yesterday to find some rock to spall. I found one at a stop sign, but it was too large to get without a shovel. Was going back to the truck and looked closely at the rock. On top was this arrowhead. It was only half finished, with a notch on the right side and part of the shank. I finished the left side. Wonder how long it had been laying there.

Wednesday, June 20, 2018

Overcoming ooops

Believe it or not, when I spalled the same rock, I came up with another flake that had a hole in it.  This time I took extreme care not to break it when I knapped the head.  Luckily it did not snap.



Thursday, June 14, 2018

oooops

I almost got rid of the hole to begin with, but decided it would be cool inside the arrowhead.  I got too greedy on the notches and it broke.  too bad.

Wednesday, June 13, 2018

gittin old

went to the doctor yesterday to get pre cancerous spots off my face.  had Sheila go back with me to consult the doctor.  I noticed that the dr and the nurse kept talking to Sheila as if I were invisible.  hey y'all, I can hear you. talk to me.  no avail, then it became apparent that they thought I had all timers.  that was funny.  reminded me of the visit to another dr. months ago.  she also went back with me at that visit.  the dr kept telling me I needed to give a urine and stool sample.  being a little hard of hearing, I said "huh?'  "give me a urine and stool sample" he said a little louder.  "huh"
  this time I knew he was annoyed and said a little louder as he repeated it again.  I looked at Sheila and she said in a voice I had no trouble hearing, "give him your drawers!"  I may have been proud at one time, but old age has taken care of that.  no one is more humble than me now.

Tuesday, May 22, 2018

Indirect Percussion Knapper

These two are among the largest that I have knapped.  The small one was too thick and short to Knapp by hand, so I used an indirect percussion knapper powered by rubber bands.  I know that it is still too thick, but I am not hunting for supper with it.

Wednesday, April 25, 2018

Cock of the Walk

  In the spring of 1956, our family moved from my grandparents farm to the outskirts of Headland.  We rented a house from Mr. Joe Parrish.  This particular Saturday, mom was cleaning and dad was off with uncle Tex fishing.  They left it up to Wayne, who was ten, to look after me and Benny.  I guess for a while he did pretty well, but since he was all macho man, we had to head off to the Cock of the Walk fertilizer building.  It was the largest building I had ever seen.  One hundred feet high and wide and three hundred feet long.  It was made out of asbestos sheets for the roof and sides.  It had a walkway at the top that ran the length of the building, with a row of windows on each side.  Most of the panes were broken.  Not by us, we could throw rocks pretty well, but they were too far off for our young arms.  The train tracks were on the other side, and the loading dock ran the length of the building, with piles of pallets and cardboard.
    The big doors were locked, but as small children, we could slip between them and the building and go inside.  There it was, on the inside, was our personal playground.  The white powder bat guano was piled to the ceiling.  Three different piles, each just a shade different.  Wayne had been there before and knew to bring a piece of cardboard from the loading dock. Motioning for us to follow, he headed up the stairs to the cat walk.  That was the best thing we had ever done.  Our hearts were pounding from the excitement of breaking in and the height of the stairs.  We could barely contain ourselves.  The bat doo-doo was about five feet below the catwalk, and sloped to the bottom in a cone shape.  Wayne jumped with the cardboard, hit with a smack and started sliding downhill fast as lightening.  Benny and I jumped, but we did not have a cardboard sled.  We buried up to our knees in the white powder crap, and had to struggle to get to the bottom.  Wayne, however was going so fast that he could not stop.  Just as he reached the bottom, he rolled off head first, only feet away from smashing into the wall.  When we reached him, all we could see were his legs sticking out of the bat crap, and kicking like crazy, up and down.  We grabbed a leg each and pulled him out.  We were laughing at him and embarrassed as he was he bounced each of us on the side of our heads.  Smaller and younger, though we were, we bounced back.
     When we tired of blood and bat shit, Wayne showed us some dynamite that they used to break up the guano when it clumped together.  Now at this moment, fifty four years later, I know what happened to the windows.  It also explains why we could slip inside the doors.  Wonder if the building is still standing.  Wayne was smart enough to take only the blasting caps and fuses.  I think he knew that the dynamite was too dangerous.  On the loading dock was a three foot length of 2" pipe, a cinder block and an unlimited supply of rocks from the train tracks.  And every kid worth his salt, had a cigarette  lighter.  Well with all these ingredients for a fun filled Saturday afternoon, what could possibly go wrong?
     Instead of aiming the primitive mortar across the tracks to the empty field, Wayne pointed it at the Brown's house, a quarter mile away.   Wayne lit the fuse to the blasting cap, dropped it into the pipe, Benny dropped in a big rock and I got the hell out of the way.  No need to worry, the rock came out the end of the pipe pretty as you please.  You could see it flow through the sky and land on the tin roof of the Brown
's house with a loud bang.  They scattered out of there like red wasps coming off the nest when you hit it with a corncob.  They heard thunder and the sky fell on them.  They were hauling ass somewhere, but where?  They never figured out what happened.  Are you going to tell them?  I sure as heck ain't.

Monday, April 23, 2018

Black Elk

quick pencil study for a future painting of Black Elk

Thursday, April 19, 2018

new ones


still knocking on rocks.

Monday, April 9, 2018

Pink rock

the pink head is a rock that my nephew found for me, the small gray stone is part of my hammer stone that is granite.

Thursday, April 5, 2018

Smoky Quartz

As a small child, following along behind my grandfather while he plowed with the mules, I would see this old field stone.  Later as I hunted game and arrowheads, I stepped over this stone.  Little did I know what treasure lay within.  Last week, I picked it up and brought it home.  After busting it apart, a vein of smoky quartz was revealed.  The large arrow head is the beginning of that vein and I hope to get many more knapped out of it.  I am not a rock man, but I think it is quartz, since it is translucent.

Wednesday, April 4, 2018

Blue Glass

These are two arrowheads that I knapped from a blue glass ashtray that I bought at the thrift store.  When I struck it, it shattered into several pieces to small to work with.  These two were all I could use.  The pink ashtray shattered way to much and was useless.