I'd probably next run up to Chicago to the Field Museum of Natural History and stay there for awhile.  I always liked that place.  And maybe run across the street to the aquarium; don't know if I could free the dolphins, but I could try.  I'd hate to see animals starve to death because they didn't have any human caretakers.  With that thought in mind, I'd start visiting zoos and head south.

I was just turned down to be a friend with someone on Xanga.  After I think about it, I've read most of their posts for several years but haven't done much in the way of replies, and I mean haven't done much at all.  I think I used to talk more with his better half, but I don't know where her blog is (if there is one) since they moved to the dessert a long time ago.  I was kinda' shocked at first, but then realized that I'm not the only person on earth and since I'm so quiet on some blogs, I'm invisible!

Maybe I should say more.... You know, I used to read blogs and then just give some props.  But a long time ago, that didn't seem an appropriate action to do when reading another's blog (just to give props and no comments).  So I quit doing that.  I wonder what people think of it now?

I really don't care that places mark stuff lower than normal to get more sales.  I would, too.  And I try to take advantage of any sales that I really need (or want).  If we're going to make it against the law, then why didn't we keep the Blue Sundays?  Old joke, I guess.

ThruTheFog.com

A very long time ago, like when I started this blog, I tried to get www.thruthefog.com, but it was already taken.  I wrote the guy to offer to buy it, but he had some plans on using it.  It's been run out for awhile, so I bought it.  Now, besides the DMo224.com, you can visit this blog by clicking on http://www.thruthefog.com.  Woot!  I think that I'll open another website someday that encompasses all the stuff about the fog, and not the normal humdrum life that most people read about me, and use that domain name there.  I still go in and out of the fog, but not like when I first started here.  You know what?  Some of the being able to come out has been because of some of the people I visit and read after, and those that have left comments.  I can think of several, but should I mention names like Leah, Sheryl, and Betsy?  I don't want to leave anyone out.

Thanksgiving Questionaire?

The Ninja Buck has again proven his prowess.  He has successfully evaded me for four days.  Or, his careful use of disguises has led me to believe that I didn't see him.  And since I didn't see him, I wasn't able to test his keen senses and abilities with my .30-06!

Of course, I'm not allowed by law to try my invisibility secrets in the infamous rifle season.  I partially used them in the bow season, but was discovered by the Ninja Buck.  I wanted to use them to the fullest this week, but the law requires that I wear 400 square inches of blaze orange.  I do wear a vest that contains the required orange in a camo pattern with black.  It makes me not feel quite like a light bulb in the woods.  Everyone has their opinion about it, but personally I dislike having to wear it and I think that the statistics prove that it has not been an effective aid in saving lives taken in hunting accidents.  If it were effective, then the ratio of hunting accidents should have gone down (ratio of number of hunters compared to the number of hunters involved in accidents during that particular season).  Maybe that happened in some state somewhere, but it hasn't happened in all of 'em.

Hey, you can't shoot me if you can't see me!  But that's just me....

I saw smaller bucks and does, but not the 6 pointer Ninja Buck.  I did some more exploring and did find his rub line up to and past the place where I sat all day in ambush, only not to see him.  I don't know if he used his disguise skills to watch me watching for him, or if he just didn't pass by me that day.  After one day of sitting, I moved out in stealth mode the next couple of days.  Still, no Ninja Buck.  One little spike walked within 30 yards of my position and never saw me.  Was my prowess good at that time, or did he know that I was looking for his master?  Too many deer too close, but I waited on one that I never saw.

So the saga will continue next week when I go back over to his territory and search for him yet again.  He wins the battle this time, but we'll see who will come out on top of this test!

My 87 YO Dad Scores!

I might mention here that my 87 year old Dad did harvest a button buck (hunter's choice if you have an antlerless permit).  I think it's pretty good that he gets out, hunts, and does what he can outdoors.  Congrats to the ol' man!  And I did come home early so we could process the hunting party's game (just none of them mine).

The FogWalker goes to rest.... maybe ponder on next week's match up of skills.... maybe not...

There are some inventions, meant to be good, but they're evil.  I wrote about one a long time ago, and that's cling wrap, plastic wrap, whatever you want to call the cursed stuff that will cling to a bowl so tightly the first time when my Hunni puts it on, but it will not cling to anything but itself when I gt in the bowl and try to put it back.  It's evil I tell you!

Or maybe it's one of those things invented by a woman just to frustrate a man!  What do you think?

Another one of those inventions is the anti-fog shower mirror.  It's a highly polished piece of metal that won't fog up under normal conditions and that's great.  However, droplets of water make it hard to see my reflection.  Okay, I shower AND shave in the shower.  I shave first and then wash.  Anyway, I spray water down the mirror and it is a great reflection of my face (even though my face isn't that much to look at but that's another story).  After a few seconds, the water splits like the Red Sea with Moses right down the middle, leaving the little droplets that make seeing a clear reflection impossible.  Another spray of water on it and it's reflecting great; right up until I'm make a second stroke with my razor down my face.  Then the water splits, the droplets make multifaceted images, and I can't see to shave.  Spay the blasted mirror again, try to get in a quick couple of strokes, and I cut myself from hurrying.

By this time, I've again declared it an evil invention.  Then I wonder if that's another one of those things that women invent to frustrate men.  Okay, you can argue that point, but since it was a gift, I began to wonder.

I remember from Chemistry that water has a couple of properties, cohesion and adhesion.  Cohesion means that it will stick to itself, such as when water droplets gather and run down a glass.  Adhesion means it sticks to other things, like the glass.  Water also has surface tension which will help it to stay together in a horizontal plane.  So why does this stuff work for a little while in the vertical plane and then quit right when I'm trying to shave?  The answer is gravity.

But then I did an experiment and sprayed water on the anti-fog shower mirror.  I watched it stay a very smooth reflective surface for 5 minutes.  Then I picked up my razor to shave.  I made sure Moses wasn't standing in the bathroom raising his rod and making the water split, because it split, formed the little droplets in the middle, and frustrated the "stuffing" out of me.  If I only cussed...that mirror would have got an ear full...but it doesn't have ears, so what the heck!

So, now I'm in the habit of spraying the mirror with the hand-held shower head while it's in my left hand and the razor in my right and trying to shave.  Of course, I've already lathered up my face.  I have a couple of strokes, then spray the mirror, shave some more, argh, it's ridiculous.  Especially since when I'm not shaving it stays nice and smooth without the droplets.

Oh, and on top of that, yesterday that blasted mirror decided to let go of the side of the shower while I wasn't looking.  When it hit the bottom, it scared me so bad that I jumped in the already wet and slick shower, and almost fell through the glass shower doors.  I'm glad I didn't have a club in the shower for I might have destroyed it all.

Ninja Buck

I saw him again, but he was too far to shoot at with my bow and arrow.  He had decided not to test me again.  However, I'll be leaving this weekend to test him again Monday morning.

The FogWalker ponders the mysterious inventions of life....then sits down to take a nap....

The Funny Part 

When I went in for them to draw blood, the nurse asked if a supervisor was going to watch.  They said yes, so she told me that it would be a moment.  I asked if she had ever done this before and I was really afraid of needles.  While she was assuring me that she was experienced and competent, the supervisor walked in and asked if I was really afraid of needles.  I told her that I was deathly afraid.  Another supervisor was in there that I've met before this time and he commented that I couldn't be afraid with the tattoos that I have.  I got a chuckle out of it, but I don't think the other supervisor was convinced, nor did she find it funny.   Okay, so I told her that it wouldn't bother me... then I leaned my head against the wall, closed my eyes, and said "Go ahead."...That didn't help and she really watched.  Hey, why not have a little fun with the people that are sticking needles in your arms and getting blood.  I'm the one hurting.  Well, that one didn't really hurt.  But that blood gas thing did hurt since it went in an artery and not a vein.  I asked about what I had read about it, and the guy really explained why it hurts.  Cool!  I like it when people have time to talk with you, or take the time to explain something.  He told me to keep that bandage on for at least 15 minutes since they really get mad at him when someone takes it off too quick, the blood squirts on the wall, and then they got to clean it all up!  And since it's a biohazard.... hahahaha!

Cleaned Up

I got my chest-of-drawers cleaned out and organized (threw holey stuff away), and got the closet cleaned along with the air filter and air purifier.  It was a good day; lots of things accomplished.

My Surprize

My Professor in the Martial Arts called and asked if I could stop by his house.  I did, along with another instructor, and he gave both of us a very nice black jacket with our names and style emblem embroidered on the front, AND the emblem in a large size embroidered on the back.  Embroidered now!  It is really nice.  It was his way of showing appreciation for us.  Wow!  I'm impressed and it's very nice.

New Meds

The new meds are really working on me and I'm having a hard time with dizziness and being cold.  They say I should be adjusted to it by this weekend.  I hope so, especially since we might get some snow showers tonight.

A New Friend

I got invited to be a friend with someone on Xanga, but it seems that she might not want a friend as much as she wants exposure for her business.  I don't mind that someone wants exposure for their business, but this just doesn't seem the right blog place for it.  I don't know!

Maybe you have read about THE BUCK; the one that exploded my arrow and is still wandering the woods in Wirt County.  Maybe you haven't read about THE BUCK.  So go read the previous entries.  I'll wait....  Okay, moving on.

Then It Dawned Upon Me

Maybe it was due to a question asked by godslily.  The beautiful newly wed has deep insight into the mysteries of the  world and asked if that buck could be Ninja.

Then I pondered.... she must be right! 

So it wasn't the Independence Day -like forcefield.  The forcefield would have made a flash when the speeding arrow had hit it, and there was no flash.  Now it becomes clear.

The Ninja Buck must have trained under one of the American Fathers of Ninjitsu.  He's probably the Master of those woods, protecting the other inhabitants of the forest with his prowess.  That must be it!

I replay the shot in my mind as I type.  Now I realize that he had spotted me though acting oblivious to my presence.  His coolness was only maintained by his ever-ready vigilance as he approached my concealed spot.  His muscles, though relaxed, were ready to spring into action at the slightest hint of danger.

With my bow fully drawn, he walked into the kill zone.  The release of the string sent the razor-bladed, chisel tipped graphite arrow towards his heart at an incredible speed.  His keen hearing picked up the gentle whisper of the string moving as it released certain death.  With his super reflexes as if time had come to a standstill, he drew his concealed sword, slashed the arrow into two meaningless and harmless pieces, and slammed the sword home in its sheath.  That was the crack that I heard.  All of that in less than a blink of an eye.  A high speed camera would have only caught the blur of some movement as he saved his own life.

The Ninja Buck jumped into a deer position and looked around to maintain his disguise as a common deer.  It had me fooled the entire time.  Since no retaliation came in the form of a shuriken through my eye, this warrior buck walks in peace, and still survives.

I will test his skills even further in the next week.  I'll be back, hidden differently, when an aroma of a doe in heat penetrating the air to see if his self-control is as advanced as it can be.  If I never see him again, then he has bested me with his skills.  He will have won this conflict, but I'll still have enjoyed the hunt.

Two Weeks From Now

In a couple of weeks the stakes will raise.  The Ninja Buck will no longer be pitting his skills against a 300 feet per second moving arrow that is 26" long, but against a 3000 feet per second moving .30-06 round weighing in at 150g and only about 1" long.  Then we'll truly see if he is THE MASTER NINJA BUCK!

If you know what this means, my M70 Winchester eagle claw sniper rifle with rangefinder 3.5x 10 variable scope with 50mm objective has a confirmed at 457 yards.  Just a tidbit for those that understand.

Then Again

I got a report from the doctor today about my episode that happened on Thursday, October 25th.  The blood work and the tests did not come back good.  I don't fully understand about arterial blood gases, but the partial oxygen level was at 60 (way too low), the carbon dioxide was at 60+ (way too high), oxygen content was low and the saturation was in the 80s.  Those results can be based on factors of poor lung working (which the docs don't say is the problem), being a diabetic (which I am, but it's in control and not a problem), kidney failure (had passed two kidney stones if that counted), and something to do with the liver.  According to the docs, I don't fit the profile for having those results.

However, the night of the tests were went I went in for a #10+ migraine and severe pain with a b/p of 185/145.  They said I had a seizure in the emergency room waiting room and took me back for whatever they did to me.  I remember waking up 2 days later with bandaids all over me, along with the blood that had seeped out from under them.

I think that severe pain can cause things to happen in the body that "practicing" doctors do NOT understand.  When the neurological part goes crazy, wrong signals can be sent everywhere in the body and who knows what will happen with the electric lines all crossed over.

And now I have a sinus infection, my blood pressure has not sufficiently come down, and my TMJ along with the migraine is trying to kill me.  So there!  I'm a wreck, but I'm still surviving.

What do I do next?  I got in Thursday morning for alot of tests.  If I could read this thing, it looks like TSH, CBe, CMP, ABC's, one for Micro. Albium, lipid profile, hBA1C, CXR, Dx Hypoxic, dysime letlungy, DM lype  2, HTW.  I can't read that writing, that's what it looks like to me.  I know what a couple are, like the lipid profile and the hBA1C.  I haven't even looked up the others yet.  Another continuing saga!

The FogWalker heads off to oblivion...

Really, even if there's nothing tagged and bagged, it's still a successful hunt when you've enjoyed the great outdoors.  I have enjoyed them.  And in my case, it's successful when you survive.  LoL!

Force Field Buck

The third time that I saw this 6 pointer, he was going through the same area as previous times.  I had seen other deer and let them walk.  A couple had seen me and decided to run.  However, this buck didn't see me and was walking down a trail that would bring him 15 yards from me.

Now I practice through the year generally shooting at 20 yards.  I don't shoot from January to March or April and start back practicing around April or May.  I'll shoot 6 arrows every other day until it's October and hunting season has started.  By shooting only 6 arrows at one practice session, I don't make mistakes that are commonly done by shooting too much and becoming tired.  Yes, you do have to pull the bow back and I'm shooting 65 pounds.  When the season came in, I was able to put 6 arrows in a one inch circle every time.  I don't usually shoot in the same circle on my target because I'll end up tearing up the previous arrow's vanes or nocks.

All that was said to show that I have confidence in my shooting ability.

Now here comes the buck, oblivious to me.  I'm sure with my placement ability and I wait for him to walk behind a tree so he doesn't see the movement of me drawing my bow.  I'm at complete draw when he emerges on the other side.  The bow is level, the sights are on, and the 20 yard pin is on the heart area.  The release is smooth and the arrow disappears at the target with a loud crack.  The buck bolts, but only runs about 10 yards completely away from me.  I watch with the expectancy that he will soon collapse.

As I watch, he turns around to survey where he was.  Now I'm hiding behind the tree pulling another arrow from my quiver.  He looks around like nothing is wrong, steps in heavy cover where another arrow won't penetrate and is gone.  Okay, so he could be mortally wounded and walk off like that.  That's not typical for me, but it can happen.

I wait about 15 minutes before moving, giving him time to lay down or keel over.  While waiting, I mark the spot in my mind where he was standing when I shot and where he stood surveying the area.  Fifteen minutes are up and I slowly move to the first spot.  I can see his kicked out tracks, but there is no blood, nor hair, nor anything other than the tracks to suggest a deer was even in that spot.

I move slowly to where he stood, following the same route that he moved.  Again, there is no sign that would lead me to my bagged deer.  I didn't even find my arrow sticking in the dirt.  So now my mind is wondering.  What was the loud crack?  Could I have hit him high in the shoulder?  Why is there no sign?  Time to retrace steps, and find the arrow.  Alas, I can't find the arrow nor any sign that would show that this deer had been hit.

It's time to slowly follow his exit route, which happened to be along a rub line.  About 100 yards out, I jumped him and he ran off.  There is still no sign.  Back to the shooting spot to find that [insert mumbling] arrow!  Upon arrival, there is no arrow.  I followed what would be the line of the arrow if it went over, below, or through this buck.  Nothing!

Could I have missed the spot where I thought I had shot him?  Okay, I'm going to walk back to my position that was on a shelf above him and get the spot in my mind again.  As I took one step toward my spot, I found my arrow.  Or should I say, I found part of my arrow?  It was laying loosely on the ground on top of the leaves, snapped in half.  So I had not missed him by shooting over or under, and it was obvious since it was on my side of the deer that it had not gone through him.  The half that I found was the meaningful end of the arrow.  The broadhead and the arrow had no blood, no hair, nothing left on it if it had only grazed him.  It was as clean and straight as when I shot it, except for the fact that there was only half the arrow there.

Now the amazement sets in.  I concluded that this deer is actually an alien in deer form that is walking around with his Independence Day -like forcefield on.  Yeah, that has to be it.  How else would a speeding arrow, sharper than a four-edged sword, stop and explode before it hit him?  Why he didn't turn around and fry me to a crisp with his ray gun, I don't know.  Maybe it was so he wouldn't blow his cover.

Or maybe this buck shot up a whispered arrow prayer like I had in previous days and it was answered with God knocking that arrow to pieces.  I don't know.  What I do know is that this buck was not meant for me on this day.  He went away unscathed, and I went away believing in God and wondering about forcefield suits that make aliens look like deer.

Then The Winds Came

I watched the sunrise the next morning through a dreary overcast sky.  When the sun actually came up was impossible to tell because of the gradual dark turning to dim light.  Then the winds came.  They were hard and everything in the woods was moving.  Leaves were flying.  Little dusters went twirling by.  A couple of deer hurriedly passed being slightly alarmed with all the movement in the trees and on the ground.  I only watched and would not shoot with this kind of wind.  Then 10 turkeys happened by and I watched them.  They didn't scratch much and I think they were headed for some place that might be covered from this wind.  Next came the rain.

Then came the walk to get out of the woods around 10am.  I got back to my tent around 11am and walked to my brother's camper.  The wind had stopped, the sun was shining, and I could feel that it was now going to turn into another unseasonably warm day.  At my brother's camper I saw the aftermath of the wind.  It had taken his awning and stretched it over his camper, demolishing the metal framework that held it in place.  A couple of hours later and we had it securely fastened to the top of his camper.  Though fastened, the metalwork was destroyed, but the awning was still intact.

Later, we broke camp and headed home.  No one is pleased with destruction, but we still enjoyed being out and trying to help my Dad get his first deer with a bow and arrow.  We will try some more, but only being out and time will tell.

When I saw deer standing in fields on the way home, I pondered how many were actually deer, and how many might be aliens with forcefield deer suits watching and waiting for that right moment when the hunter becomes the hunted.  Okay, so I had a migraine on the way home and an overactive imagination.  But even at that, I'm ready for 'em!

I've had one week at my camping and hunting excursion and I have survived.  There was a couple of times that I didn't know what would happen, but I'm here to write about it and that means it went well (?)!  I camped out in the pines under the stars and a very bright moon on most of the nights.  One night was so unseasonably warm that I didn't even turn on my Mr. Heater Portable Buddy nor my Mr. Heater Big Buddy!  They're both on the same page of those search results.  When the night temps hit less than 29°F, then I had my little Buddy on with the lowest setting.  I also have a sleeping bag with a -10°F rating and that helps (never had it zipped up all the way).

The Ditch

I came upon a ditch, about 15' deep and about 8' wide, that I didn't even know existed.  It was running parallel with a powerline right-of-way.  I was still hunting (hunting where you move so slow that it's like standing still) and I was supposed to be at the powerline around dark.  The woods were deep, the underbrush thick, and the darkness had started to set in even before the sun had completely set for the evening.  Then I found the ditch.  I also found a deer trail going down into the precipice that looked like Mountain Goats had been there.  The Mountain Goat in me said that I could go down one side and up the other.

I carefully made it to the bottom of this ditch that was lined with large rocks and a small trickle of water running around them.  I was pretty proud of my accomplishment.  I looked up and remembered the years that I used to jump an easy 8' with a running jump.  I could jump almost 7' without a run.  I'm not really up on jumping now, especially when jumping over a ditch lined with large rocks.

The climb up the other side was a little harder than the climb down.  It wasn't any steeper, but gravity was not aiding me on the way up.  I stopped on the deer trail where I could reach out about a foot and touch the level ground.  If you like figuring angles, then my feet are touching the ground, I'm standing straight up with my hands out from my shoulders about 5' from my feet, and my shoulders were a little over 1' from the edge.  If you can't or don't want to figure, that is steep.  I think it was a 77° angle on my inclinometer on the other side.

Then my foot hold gave away.  I tossed my bow onto the leaves on the top as I toppled over backwards like the tower of Babel.  I grabbed for a small tree, leaving 4 of my 5 fingernails embedded in the tree as they didn't hold.  My fanny pack softened that blow, slightly, but I started the descent faster than a rolling stone, and I was gathering no moss.  After about a 10' slide completely upside down with my head coming closer to the rocks, my left leg caught a 3" sapling in the bend of my knee.  I stopped abruptly, then looked down at the rocks that were about 12" from my head.  I didn't have to turn my head to look down because I was literally hanging upside down by my leg.

While in this upside down position, I thanked God for that small sapling that saved my head from busting some rocks, or maybe it would have been the other way.  The next prayer was asking how I get out of this position.  A short struggle, which seemed like hours, and I had righted myself and climbed back up to the edge.  This time I didn't admire the edge but climbed out of the ditch and picked up my bow.

There were 2 deer standing on the other side of the powerline.  I think they were laughing at the silly human that thought he was part Mountain Goat.  Then they flagged me and ran in the woods.  I had to laugh, too.  Until I really realized that even though I was only about 200 yards from my brother and my Dad, they would have had a hard time finding me if I had hit the bottom.  I'm sure it wouldn't have been that night.  So, another whispered prayer of thankfulness.

It was time to wipe off the sweat, leaves, humus, and head for my hunting partners.  What a story to tell them, or should I?  I did, but made it sound less hazardous since my Dad can be worrisome.

That was Day 1 of the hunting escapades.  

Successful Hunting

Yes, I saw 11 deer that day, but I didn't shoot any.  Most were too far away, some were just too little, and two were making jokes at me.  My measure of success does not mean that I have to KILL something.  To me, success is being able to be out in the wilds, and in this case, survive!  I enjoyed the day; that is success!

And more escapades to follow!

The FogWalker takes his oldest son out to eat at a Mexican restaurant....the first really cooked meal in a week....and it's the son's birthday...