My brother, who lives in Alaska, sent me this claw from an Alaskan brown bear. He shot it with the Ruger .375 Alaskan that I gave him for his birthday when I flew up to visit him. I should have put something alongside it to show the size but it's about five inches. Definitely do some damage. Those bears will kill and eat people.
I don't know what I am going to do with this thing. My uncle suggested I put it in a shadow box and hang it in my boys' room, so I may do that. They think it's cool.
Funny thing about men and animal body parts as trophies. When I shot a mountain lion that was attacking my dog a few years ago my dad, who went and checked the carcass, wanted to cut off an ear and give to me as a souvenir. Fortunately, my mother put the kibosh on that.
And that reminds me that I have suffered more and more-serious injuries since I have been back on the ranch than I ever did in the service, including in Afghanistan. I've been hospitalized twice since I've been back, suffered broken ribs twice, a lung puncture, broken leg, broken arm, broken wrist, all sorts of soft tissue damage, innumerable bruises, gashes and cuts. This can be a tough life, believe you me.
And now that I think about it, despite the drumbeat of news stories about sexual harassment in the armed forces, the most brutal sexual attacks I've suffered were all carried out by civilians...of the, um,,,,dusky...persuasion. I avoided a third of the same thanks to my trusty S&W snubbie, my pal, my buddy.
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I got my trip to Argentina out of the way, finally getting all the holes in the cheese lined up so I could get it done. I couldn't take my uncle or cousin, as I'd planned, because I filled the plane up with men I needed, including a guy who is going to handle building a landing strip on the estancia. He's the same guy who expanded and improved our ranch strip. I was lucky he was willing to take on the task. He charges a pretty penny but I know I can trust him to do a good job.
Our Chinese buyer, whom I've written about before, visited the estancia and has us on the approved import list or whatever it is, so we have a solid customer, which makes the operation profitable from the get-go. To me, this illustrates the value of relationships. We knew each other. We had chatted and eaten and worked together. He knew how we ran things in the states and had seen that in Argentina, too. So it was easy for us to work together with this new operation. Had he never heard of us, I doubt that would have been the case.
Once I completed my business there, I rushed back home. I only stayed one full day there. I had meetings set up beforehand, got through those, checked out everything, got a good night's sleep, drove back to the airport where I'd left my plane and took off before dawn, earlier than I had planned, but I had a weather window I couldn't miss.
Besides having a lot to do, managing the ranch and our other interests, I didn't want to leave my kids, especially my two-year-old, alone, er, I mean without me, any longer than necessary. Thank the Lord my mini me is old enough and responsible enough that I can rely on her. My mother is much improved but she still has some mobility problems. I do think the fact that I have to rely on her for so much has actually improved her mental health. Busy hands are happy hands.
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I'm due next month and will shortly head out for Destination City and our house near the hospital. My mother will come with me. My mini-me wants to as well, and I'd like her, too. But she may be more valuable looking after the toddler. My aunt will come up to stay with the boys, but the little one is going to need a familiar face with him.
I'm glad we have a Tesla at the house with it's self-driving capability. When it's time, my mother can just have it take us to the hospital and let it go park itself while she helps me. Bless you Elon Musk!
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This months marks the half-year of my widowhood. The anniversary day was hard on me. It's good that the time has passed, that those worst days are over, but also it's shocking to me how quickly it has passed. It's been a very difficult time for me. That's all I'm going to say about it. I just wanted to note this down for myself.
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I have recovered from my most recent broken rib and lung puncture. I had pain for weeks, had to sleep in a chair, then in bed on my back, no rolling over onto my side, too much pain. But then, one night, suddenly, I could. No pain. It just happened like that. Not gradually.
Bu while it was healing, I was walking outside, trying to exercise and get my lung back to full functioning and I tripped over a root and fell hard on rocky ground, breaking my wrist and arm. Son of a.... But fortunately, the left ones. I flew myself to the hospital, more worried about what harm I might have done to my baby than my own injuries and they were like, oh, it's you again. What did you do to yourself this time?