Christmas comes whenever you wish

When I ran across this rather old Christmas card on the internet put out by Colt, my first thought was now I have something for a holiday post. My next thought crept in from the outer limits of reality: Who knows what tomorrow might bring and, even more to the point, who knows where I will be in a few months, much less if I even will be here .... why wait to post it?

Why, indeed? The card fits my lifestyle and reflects my belief that any and all of us should have the opportunity to be able to legally own firearms and be well-schooled in using them safely and proficiently. I have no idea how many individuals -- in particular young ladies -- share that belief, but I do know there are some and we all do have the right to possess and to express our own personal beliefs, do we not?

Add to that, none of us knows where we will be or even if we will be when tomorrow arrives ....

Now, a personal note: Happy Birthday (and, Merry Christmas) -- today -- to the young lady who once upon a time asked me out on a then and there date minutes after we had been introduced. I am glad I said yes. The songs are for you ....

Birthday Boy Buddy ....

Born in or near Checotah, Oklahoma .... the exact date lost intentionally or through carelessness .... arrived in Minnesota in August 2016, with a veterinarian-estimated age of three years .... became Buddy W. Fram on August 18, 2016, hence his "unofficial" birthday is today.

Buddy W. Fram arrived here under the name of Gator. He apparently was not pleased with it because he showed absolutely no recognition when spoken to using it. Neither did he respond to any other name I suggested trying to find something to which he showed a spark of acknowledgement. 

But, he did seem to recognize the word, "buddy." I have no idea whether his response was because it had been his name in his "prior life" or because a previous "companion" had often referred to him as "my buddy." Whatever .... a week or two after his arrival, he formally became Buddy and began accumulating his own collection of books and firearms and sundry toys.

Buddy still thinks and acts like a "young man," although he is about seven years old in our scheme of time .... but, then again, I suppose proponents of the Gregorian or the Julian or the Roman or any number of other calendar systems might dispute any and all measurements of time in favor of their own choice.

Buddy was a "shelter / rescue dog" before moving to Minnesota and "rescuing" me. He is part Long-Haired Chihuahua and part Papillon, and has a double coat of fur, which translates into difficulty keeping cool even on cool days. This duramesh, elevated dog bed somewhat helps to alleviate the situation.

He is intelligent, displays great affection and, judging by his demeanor, he evidently had loving, caring early years. I have tried to get more information, but gave up after leaving answering machine messages and receiving no replies. Perhaps, that was giving up too easily, but I think somehow that is the way it is supposed to be.

Finally, for every mood there is a song -- actually, many songs. Included here today are three songs, and I am thinking one of them will fit your mood. If I am wrong, magnus paciscor .... I have been wrong before and the world has never ended .... now baby/baby/baby ....