Backyard range

One of the great things about living in the country again is the ability to go shooting at will, which is exactly what I did today. Now I have neighbors on two sides, but my property extends for about an acre straight out my back door (not to mention for several acres to the side of my house). Out back, beyond my acre-long stretch on which I have a wood and earth berm pushed up, is approximately a mile of pine tree farm. No one lives in that direction for a good long way, thus it’s safe to shoot (remember, be aware of your target, AND what’s behind it).

So I walked out back and set up a pistol range. There’s really not a good place for a rifle range due to geographical and man-made features, but hey, if I can shoot pistols out back, that’s something right? So, 2 targets were posted, and I shot 25 rounds into each target. 25 shots doing practice drills, and 25 just target shooting. The left-hand target is the practice drill target, in which I pulled the weapon from my pocket, acquired target, fired as quickly as I could using a proper sight picture and recovery. The practice drills take approximately 3 seconds. Looking closely, you can see 4 shots on the backer that didn’t hit the target. They were all second shots. I guess I need to work more on recovery.

I was shooting for more than just fun, however. I have a love affair with my S&W j-frame, but I am not enamored with the factory rubber grips. I was digging around in my dad’s shop the other day, and came across the factory wood grips that came on his model 60. I shamelessly stole them and mounted them up, with his approval. The gun now looks like a j-frame should, in my opinion, and after today’s field test, I’m happy with it’s performance too.

Also take a look at my grip. I use a weaver stance, and I have large hands. Combined with the relatively small size of the j-frame, I tend to get powder burns on my right (weak hand) index finger. Now, this causes me no discomfort, so I don’t think it’s actually powder burns so much as burnt powder, but it is a pain in the butt to get off my hands.

Maybe I should soak my finger in Hoppes number 9….

Snake Woods

My new residence sits on 5 acres of land, only about 1 of which is cleared. My house and shed sits on that acre. The other 4 acres are woods, what I grew up referring to as small woods. Small woods are a group of woods that you own, and are intimately familiar with, that it would be impossible to get lost in. Small woods are fun to wander around in and look at nature, and you can even take game in them, although it's unlikely (but possible) to find deer in small woods.

Now this time of year, it's cold, and reptiles are dormant, but during the spring, my small woods will become the territory of snakes and lizards, and I will be the invader. As a general rule, if I see a non-poisonous snake close by, I'll leave it alone, but if it's poisonous or if I can't tell, I kill it. My child likes the woods, and one less venomous thing out there makes me happier.

Whenever I go to the snake woods, I usually carry my .357 magnum. Now, I carry a snub-nose .38 special every day for self defense, but I may well go my entire life without having to use it. It's a measure against an eventuality that has a very, very small likelihood of ever being needed. If I knew without a doubt one morning that I was going to need a gun for self defense, I'd bring a 12 gauge. But because I don't know, I sacrifice the use of a better tool for one that is more portable and less likely to be seen and cause a stir.

In the snake woods, I carry a .357 because loaded with rat shot, the 4 inch barrel and adjustable sights make it very useful in dispatching small reptiles. I don't really need to worry about concealment, so I carry a gun better suited to the purpose of dispatching snakes.

So I was wondering: what gun do you carry in the snake woods?

More Updates

Well, Life's been a little hectic around casa de la displaced. My life has been a whirlwind that has centered around unpacking, eating home cooking, and hanging out with family. My brother cooked me ribs Sunday.... fall-off-the-bone ribs, at that. Damn, it's nice to be home.



I've laughed a lot this past week, and I've smiled more than I have in the past year. Sometimes from things like seeing family, and sometimes from things a s simple as seeing the leaves change color, or living in the country where the air is fresh. Damn, it's nice to be home.



I went to my 'interview' today. Basically, I found out that I got to wait till the paperwork comes back from processing. I'll likely start work sometime between Christmas and new years. More time with family. After my interview today, I met up with two old friends and had lunch at my favorite Chinese restaurant, Chef Wok. Yes, the egg rolls were as good as I remembered. Damn, it's nice to be home.



I spent the afternoon doing odd jobs for Miss Emelyn Morrison, an old friend. Afterward, she insisted that we have a glass of wine, so I obliged. I headed to my dad's house, where O am typing this and awaiting the rest of the family, for we will be having dinner tonight. Damn, it's nice to be home.



Also, my pop let me borrow a rifle for deer season. Damn, I like guns!

New Digs

Well, we made it. It was a grueling couple of days, but we're here in Louisiana, and we've got a bunch of unpacking to do.

The worst of it all, though, was that I managed to fall out of the back of the moving truck when we were loading it. No long term damage, but I'm a bit stove up right now. Also, I managed to get a fever last night, about the time I got to Dad's house. Still not feeling great, but I guess it's time to go unload the truck. I'll talk to ya'll soon!

Updates

So, we started packing today. Master bedroom and master bathroom are packed up, except for the essentials. We are packing 2 rooms a day, so we're right on schedule. We'll be pulling out of St. Augustine FL in exactly one week, then we're west bound for Louisiana.

Also, my computer got a virus yesterday while I was looking up spirit levels. My friends and I were hanging out last night,and as one of my friends is a programmer, I brought the computer and asked him if he could look at it. He fixed it.... but it took him 5 HOURS! I think I owe him one.

My Kit

This is my Reenacting kit and tools, or most of them anyway. Some things are a little hard to get together for a picture.... like my anvil....

Let's see... in no particular order... 3 knives, 2 spoons, a fork, a pair of carpenter's pliers, a roll of tarred marlin, 2 belaying pins, a set of woodcarving palm tools, a workman's cap, a square, a mallet, a watch, a pair of woven garters, a hammer, a tomahawk, a level, a leather jack, a stoneware mug, 2 leather pouches, a belt, 2 canvas bags, my leather working kit, which contains a bunch more stuff, like awls, pins, dividers, etc, a Spanish musket drill command cheat sheet, a sharpening stone, a copper tube, a 'pirate coin' that was in my tip jar at the tavern one weekend, my bit roll, a brace, 4 chisels, a carving knife, a left handed hook knife, a blade for a right handed hook knife, pencils, a tinker toy, a sharpening steel, 4 large leather scraps, a flint and steel kit, and a length of flannel to make char cloth.

There are a few things in my kit that aren't period correct. Like the level. The public rarely sees these things, but occasionally, you need a level, so you try to find one that will blend in with the bench if it's set down as a visitor walks up. You try to avoid the public seeing these things, but if they do, you hope it blends in well enough that they don't really 'see' it.

In this picture, the things that aren't correct: Pencils, the 'pirate' coin, level, tinker toy, and the musket drill sheet.

The drill sheet is an aid for, well, musket drill, the tinker toy I use as a teaching aid to explain a pegged joint to children, the pencils stay hidden when visitors are around, and I haven't even looked at the 'pirate' coin since I dropped it in my bag weeks ago.

I guess the level is the only one I don't feel 100% comfortable with having in my kit.

Please, don't call me a Farb! It's just a level!

Early Christmas

We had thanksgiving at my Wife's grandmother's house, and we decided to do an early christmas there as well. Now, this isn't going to be a long post, but I figured awesomeness on this magnitude deserved it's own post.

Grams, as we lovingly call her, is one of the best gift-givers around. She actually takes the time to think of thoughtful gifts that truly represent things that the reciever cares about.

I got: The illustrated book of Guns
A set of leatherworking tools
2 boxes of .38 special target loads
1 box of .357 1/2 jacketed lead nose bullets.

Thanks, Grams!

The Crew

Yesterday marked my last day at the Colonial Spanish Quarter. The day started out right with Julia (the girl in the pink skirt with the beautifully embroidered pocket), the resident all-around-awesome-sister/aunt figure,-depending-on-relative-ages-to-her, stopped me in the parking lot and handed me a bottle of Glenmorange single malt scotch. To me, anything more than Maker's Mark is fine whiskey, but I hear it's great. She also gifted me with a spool of tarred marlin, a wonderfully awesome tarred twine that smells like pure man.

Marquito, the guy in the in the tan waistcoat, brought a venison backstrap, and he roasted that, along with a pork tenderloin for lunch. Julia made mashed garlic potatoes and seared eggplant, as well as some garlic and rosemary dipping sauce for the bread that Cookie(the guy in the white t-shirt) brought over. Cookie (Gene, actually) is a baker, and owns the Spanish Bakery across the street from our site.

Skadi, the guy with the beard, made an egg custard for dessert. it was perfect. His Girlfriend, Amberlynn, is in the red hoodie. She's a sweetheart.

Greg's the big guy in the blue wool cap. T.C. is the guy in the straw tricorn.

After work, everyone met in the tavern, including everyone who was off. Greg brought a pecan pie that was to die for. Bill, not pictured, Gave me a mug with the name of our site on it. Cookie gave me a jar of home made jelly. Jenny, the tavern keep, again, not pictured, bought me a round. Greg also poured me some grog from his private reserve.

I'm missing the crew already.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Leaving this afternoon to spend Thanksgiving with the wife's parents and grandparents. I'll be back Sunday.

Everyone, have a happy Thanksgiving. I'll see ya'll on the other side!

Role Reversal

The wife, kidd-o, and I went to wally world this evening to pick up a delightfully random assortment of things. Some spray bottles, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and some gift cards later, we were leaving the checkout line and walking toward the exit.

I saw him standing there, using his buggy more as a crutch than a basket to contain his goods. He was tall and lean, but bent with time. His watery eyes spoke of many untold sights. Perched atop his head he wore one of those veteran's caps. Foam front, mesh rear, all black. It had a golden WWII emblazoned across the front. He was wearing a light jacket, even though the temperature was in the upper 70's.

I reached out a hand. He took it with a questioning look, fingers cold due to poor circulation.

"Thank you for your service, sir".

He mumbled in a surprised fashion for a second before a whispered "your welcome" came through. I nodded, and continued on. He was choked up at being thanked for what he gave, and you could tell he was warring with being proud or embarrassed. I left quickly so that he didn't feel embarrassed. That wasn't my intent.

I've made it a point to thank the men and women in our armed forces, as well as veterans, firefighters and police officers. If I can recognize them, I thank them. They give a lot, and rarely receive thanks for their sacrifice.

But my encounter tonight got me thinking: Shouldn't the roles be reversed? Shouldn't we look at him and be slightly embarrassed that so many people pass by our veterans and service men and women without thanking them?

It shouldn't be a thankless job, being in the military, or being a police officer or firefighter.

And it doesn't have to be. Go thank the heroes in your life.

And be damned sure to thank those you pass on the street as well.

Busy Day

Well, I'm properly sucked into book 13 of the Wheel Of Time series, which just made a busy day harder, because all I wanted to do was read. Around 10am, I pulled myself out of my book, and I took some library books back.

Since the park is next door to the library, I took the kiddo. we rode the carousel, and he swung and slid for another 45 minutes. We then got lunch at Zaxby's, a regional chicken joint.

On the way home, I stopped by Auto Zone and picked up oil and filters for our vehicles, then the boy played in the yard for a half hour.

We then went to the doctor so Boy-o could get a checkup and so we could get his medical history and vaccine record for the move to Louisiana. On the way home, we stopped by a liquor store to pick up boxes for the move, then swung by the grocery store for chicken stock and beer.

I have a gumbo simmering on the stove for dinner, and I plan on watching some Ghost Hunters in another couple of hours. The wife is gonna cut my and the kiddo's hair when she gets home.

It's been a busy day!

Tomorrow, all I gotta do is change oil in 2 vehicles and get laundry done!

Stuff

Well, I went to work today, after a weekend from hell. There was a Pirate Gathering that has been advertised statewide for months this weekend, and being the only period tavern, we were flooded with pirates (I hate the word 'argh!' now). They came in draped in polyester, called themselves reenactors, and proceeded to act like asses, because, hey, pirates were assholes, right? But hey, everyone had fun, no one was hurt, and I made a killing in tips, so I'll call it a wash.

Anyway, so I went into work at 8am, after 4 good hours of sleep because I closed the bar the night before, and my supervisor Greg had a project for me. I was in carpentry today, and we needed a new gate built for the entry way to the sight. I was kinda less than thrilled about a serious project after a long night, but I got to work, and I got into what I was doing. The design turned out great, and the blacksmith made a set of pinnels for the hinges, as well as some large clench nails for hardware. We hung the gate, and everyone said they liked it.

Greg came by after we hung it and pulled me aside.

"Bet you're pretty damn tired, huh?"

"Well, yeah, you could say that."

"Think you woulda fallen asleep if I hadn't given you something to work on?"

I thought about it, and realised he was right. "Yeah, probably"

He smiled. "See? There's a reason I got you to sweat today. You were so busy, you forgot you were tired, didn't you?"

I chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I did!"

"It looks great man. You did a good job. Thanks."

"No problem Greg. It feels good to do something productive."

"Yeah. Hey, I got you a going away present." He pulled a knife and tomahawk from his bag. "here"

The tomahawk is Amish made, and it's the highest quality. the steel bit goes all the way back to the eye of the head.

The knife he forged himself. It's made from a lawnmower blade, and has a heavy spine. It's a primitive bowie pattern, but the only thing primitive about it is the design. Greg is a Master Knifemaker. The knife will still be useful after I die. It's superb craftsmanship, and I feel honored that he would make a knife specifically for me, as a gift.

And he remembered I was left handed when he made the sheath!

My throat got a little tight. I fumbled a quarter out of my pocket to give him, lest the knife cut our friendship.

" Thanks, Greg. You have no idea what this means to me."

"No problem, man. We're gonna miss ya."

I'll miss them too.

Update

Well, expect some pretty sporadic posting, folks. We're gearing up for the move, and I just don't have much time these days. Couple that with me downgrading my phone plan (I only have phone and messaging now, no 3G), and my blogging has suffered dramatically. Again, I'm not getting rid of the blog, but posting is going to be spotty till the move is over.

Thanks to my tens of loyal readers, and I promise you some good blogging in the future!

Times, they are a changin'

Well, we're not in the 'pack like hell' phaze yet, but we are starting to pack up non-essentials. About half of the books are packed, and I'm stealing empty boxes from work and liquor stores on a regular basis.

Moving is usually a chore for me, but I'm happy about where life is taking me, so it dosen't seem so bad, yet. of course, I'm not at the 'pack like hell' phase yet....

We had a garage sale last weekend, and only made 80 bucks, but hey, it was all crap we didn't need, so no loss there.

In other news, tonight should be pretty nice: Beef stew for dinner, the wife baking bread and cookies after dinner, and just generally hanging out and relaxing. Can't ask for much more than that.

Man, I can't wait to be back in Louisiana.

Sweet Home, Louisiana

Well, it's been a long time coming, but my little family is headed back to Louisiana. We've been considering moving back for over a year, but certain changes in my wife's working environment coupled with unexpected child care issues have forced our hand. It's a good thing. Not to sound too hippie-ish, but it's almost like the universe is pushing us back to where we want to be.

A simpler, happier existence. Less stuff. More family.

My brother and his wife both had houses when they married, so they have an extra house that they are going to rent to us, and I spoke today with the manager of the state historic site that I want to work for. He's personally mailing me an application, and says everyone at the site speaks highly of me.

With a house and a job shaping up, all we're waiting for is to finish out November with our employers. We decided to give a month's notice, to help out our bosses, who are good people. I won't make it back in time for Thanksgiving, but I'll be home for Christmas.

I'm keeping the blog, but I won't be changing it's name. I think that I'll always be The Displaced Louisiana Guy. Maybe being displaced isn't just about location.

I'm happy to be going home, folks, and I'll keep ya'll updated!

New Shooter Range Report

My co-worker Julia works 1 day a week with me, as she has a full time job as an accoutant for a beer distributor. Last sunday, she said that if I'm ever going shooting during the week, she'd love to go, as she only ever shot a .45 in college, and her work is like a half mile from my range.

I got a chance to take her today. I swung by and suprised her 10 minutes before her lunch break, and she seemed pretty excited.

After a review of the four rules, we went through a weaver stance, and I let her dry fire my .357, and when she was comfortable, she shot a light .38 target load. She seemed happy with how it worked, so I loaded a cylinder for her, and she went to town. And again. And again.

Afterwards, I asked if she wanted to try something else, and she was game. She shot my Springfield GI .45 like a champ, but professed that she didn't care for it as much. She shot one more cylinder of .38, and we called it a day.

Upon dropping her back at work, she gave me a tour of the warehouse. Dang, there was a lot of beer!

She told me that that was the most fun she'd had on her lunch break in a really long time, and she asked to keep her first target, which she wants to get framed. I obliged, but told her she needed to pose with it for a picture.

She even mentioned getting her own gun one day.

Heh!

Great day at the range.

New shooter

Taking a new shooter to the range. Range report coming soon!

Burgers

It's what's for dinner. Along with corn on the cob and mashed taters.

Pics

A picture of the Gerber mentioned in the last post.

Knives

Ok, ok, ok.

I've not been a very good blogger lately. No excuse, I've just gotten caught up in day-to-day life, and it seems that I haven't had anything interesting to write about.

BUT

I've been thinking about knives lately. I always carry a pocket knife. For the past few months, I've been carrying an Opinel No. 7 in a belt sheath, and it's been a great little tool. It's design is antiquated, but it's great steel, holds a great edge, is small enough to go wherever I go, but large enough to do whatever job I may need it to do. I'll always carry a pocket knife, but I don't consider it a self defense tool.

I was recently given a used Gerber boot-type dagger. I think it originally came with a rubberized handle, but it seems as if it's been stripped down to a plastic core, and the tip was dinged. I resharpened the edge and reestablished the tip, and wrapped the handle in parachute cord. It's a great little knife (it's a Gerber, after all), but I don't really have much of a use for it. I mean, if I'm ever in a situation that I feel I can't get away from and I need to arm myself, well, that's why I carry a gun. Sure, if I'm in a state that doesn't reciprocate with my CCW, it's be the best available option, but that's a very specialized application.

So.... how do ya'll feel about a backup knife to your carry weapon? is it redundant, or just being prepared?

Youtubein'

So, I know this video is pretty old, but it's been a favorite of mine for years.

Enjoy!

Nicknames

We've had a lot of nicknames for the Boy-o over the last two years, but he has a favorite, it seems.

Yup. Wistlebritches. Heh!

Surfing

So, I made a Beef Stroganoff for dinner. It turned out well. Probably one of my better ones. I don't really have a recipe, I just kinda wing it. But my wife bought some baby portabellas this week, so I used them and some stew meat to make an excellent stroganoff.

Now, I'm into a bottle of Sierra Nevada Porter, and I'm surfing the net.

Not a bad night, all in all.

Jambalaya

There's a big ol' pot of bell pepper, onion, and garlic cooking down, swanson chicken broth, worchestershire sauce, long grain white rice, a rotisserie chicken, pulled from the bone and diced, chopped sausage, and a sam adams beer in this photo. Now, half that beer is for me, and the other half is for the pot, but it should be a fine Jambalaya.

Books

I have about 2 dozen books that I have read countless times. These aren't counting series I've bought over the years because I love them. These are books that I enjoy because they are light, fun reading. Things like Patrick McManus, Gary Larson, Bill Amend, and Tim Allen.

I'm re-reading an old favorite right now, because I'm between books, and I probably won't make it to the library till Thursday. I'm reading Chili Dawgs Always Bark at Night by Lewis Grizzard.

He's chauvinistic, for sure, but that's his biggest downfall as a writer. I certainly wouldn't recommend him to my wife.

But he does believe in being chivalrous. And he doesn't like liberal democrats. and he's a fan of the SEC.

It's a good light read between other books, if you can get over his disdain for women golfers.

The Boy-o's Day, Part 3

Towards the afternoon, he was a butterfly. Then, there was Cookies!

What does tonight hold? Beyond sloppy joes and corn on the cob, I don't rightly know.

The Boy-o's Day, Part 2

We went to the park this morning, and Elyas ran and played with the other children all morning. We had a brief bathroom break at the library (right next door to the park), and around 11:45, we rode the carousle.

He told me that he wanted 'lettuce and tomato and peppers and cheese... And chicken!' for lunch. He seemed to enjoy it. I had chicken strips.

After lunch, we went to the beach, and he tired of that quickly. Now we're back at the park, and he's playing happily!

I'm glad he's enjoying the day!

Some Pics

The Boy-o's Day

I told Elyas that we'd do whatever he wanted to do today. The list so far:

-Eat Cereal
-Drink some Milk
-Watch Mickey

I'm gonna clean up the house real quick, and see what we're doing before lunch.

I hope he'll have fun.

Beer

I love beer. I love many different varieties, and whatever brand of craft brew is on sale, I usually buy. So at least twice a month, I end up with a 12 pack of craft brew for less than 10 bucks. My local liquor store runs good sales. This week, it's Buffalo Bill's Brewery's Orange Blossom Cream Ale. It's quite nice for the first two beers, but after that the flavor becomes overpowering. Still, I'm glad I took a chance on it. It's a nice after-dinner sipping beer.

Back to Basics

Those of you that have known me or my dad know that I grew up on a small hold farm. We only had 10 acres and a dozen cattle or so, but we also raised chickens, goats, ducks, and turkey, and we grew our own vegetables as well. When dad bought the place, He and Grandpa stretched barbed wire around all 10 acres, and they erected the barn. I grew up doing farm chores like tending animals, hauling water, weeding vegetables, and the million other mundane tasks that comes with keeping up a small farm. It was hard work, but it was fulfilling. I know the value of a day's labor.

I decided to get educated, and went on to college in hopes of not having to worry about things like the tomatoes coming in or hoof rot. I am proud of where I came from, but the work, although rewarding, can be back-breaking, too. So I went to college, and got a degree. I graduated in one of the worst economic climates in the past 20 years. I bought 4 shiny new suits after graduation and went to Florida. Me and my wife have done okay for ourselves, but I got tired of management quickly, and have gravitated back to historic interpretation, which I did in college. It doesn't pay as well, but I'm much happier.

I've been thinking about my job change a lot lately, and I've come to realise that happiness counts for a lot.

I have a nice house in a working class neighborhood, and (mostly) good neighbors. We have a picket fence. We have all the trappings of a middle-America life, and many of my friends here are envious of our situation. From the outside it does look attractive.

But I miss being self-sufficient. I miss having land where I can shoot when I feel like it. Where I can hunt duck or deer or rabbit. I miss cooking food that I grew or that I shot and processed.

My job makes me happy because while the main purpose of my job is to educate visitors, I still get to make things with my hands that I feel a pride in making. Taking pride in what you do and the things you make is important. I can't feel the same pride in filling out an accounts receivable ledger as I can in making a pot lid in the blacksmith shop. I can't take the same pride in my gumbos using all store bought ingredients as I can when I grew or raised 70% of the ingredients myself.

And I can't take the same pride in paying my sewer bill as in knowing I sunk the septic tank in the back yard myself.

I now understand why dad felt a need to be a farmer when I was young. Sure, he's semi-retired now, and lives on a street with close neighbors, but the fact is, at one point in his life he felt a NEED to live that way, and he did. And it was rewarding. And it was a good way to raise children, and bring us up with a good work ethic. I'm feeling that need.

I need to grow a garden. I need to hunt. I need to make my life with my own two hands.

Looking back on my childhood, it was an enviable life. Much more so than the one with the picket fence.

Busy

I was busy today. I ran by the bank around 11am, and what should have been a 5 minute transaction ended up taking almost 35. I wasn't in a hurry, so it was no big deal, but imagine my surprise when I looked at my 50 dollar money order, and realised it was cut for 500. Further, by looking at my account balance, it appeared that I was only drafted 50. I explained to their customer service rep what happened, and she walked over and scolded the teller that handled my transaction, which I felt bad for. He accidentally hit an extra zero on the money order machine, but he only drafted me for 50. He got a butt chewing, but I suspect that if I had been a more unsavory character and actually cashed it, be probably would have lost his job.

When I left the bank, I went and picked up my wife for lunch, and we ate at one of out favorite open-air diners, the Spanish Bakery. We wandered around downtown for another half hour, then I brought her back to work. It was a lovely break from the day-to-day.

Afterwards, I went home, and I couldn't focus on my book, and it's not because it's badly written. I just needed to do something with my hands, so I wandered out to my shop with the boy in tow, and we did some carpentry. Me and my wife have been discussing how bare our porch looked, and we came to the conclusion that we needed more seating. So today, I built a bench for the porch corner.

Now I'm blogging before I start a Roux. The gumbo I started cooking an hour ago is about ready for the roux, and I need to have dinner ready before Ghost Hunters starts.

Good evening, ya'll.

weather

Drinking coffee on the porch, and the thermometer says 49 degrees. I've been sleeping with the windows open for the past three days, and I'm thoroughly enjoying it.

Gotta love the Florida fall!

Antiquing

My newest find: an antique brace, or hand drill. It's English, probably Sheffield, from about 1870. It's a fine example, with a mahogony head, and it's joint is tight, as it should be. I'm digging it.

Thoughts On Concealed Carry

Concealed carry is a pain in the behind. There's about a jillion steps needed to start carrying, and that's in a free state, like Florida. First, you need to decide on a firearm. Luckily, I had a good idea of what I wanted, so I actually was able to figure out what I wanted rather quickly. I did have to buy a gun, holster, and a few boxes of bullets, and find out halfway through the first box that that gun wasn't for me. I sold it, along with a box of bullets and a holster, and only lost about $150. On my budget, that hurt. However, I settled on a j-frame next, and fell in love. Next, you need to find a range. I'm not lucky enough to have family with a lot of land close by, so I spend about 200 dollars a year in memberships. Then there's scheduling the concealed carry course. $60. then you have to make an appointment with the state licensing office. $117, and a few weeks waiting. Then you wait on your card. A few more weeks. Then you practice. Ammo costs add up quickly. Not to mention gas to and from your range, which isn't exactly around the corner. Also, you have to modify the way you dress and carry yourself, so as not to display your weapon, and those few extra pounds seem like TONS extra weight to get used to carrying around.

But eventually you DO get used to carrying the weight. And after a few weeks, you start planning bullets and gas into your budget. Carrying begins to seem less like a chore, and more normal. More mundane.

And then you have that experience. I'm not talking the big, earth shattering experience where you have to defend your life. Hopefully that never happens to any of us. I'm talking about walking in that parking garage, or through the bad area of town. You're just trying to mind your own business and get to your car. But there's that guy walking your way, rather quickly. You pick up your pace, and grip the firearm in your pocket. You get to your car, open the door, and step in. The guy continues on, oblivious to your discomfort. You wipe your sweaty palms on your pants legs, and watch the man continue by in your rear view, and you start your car. Maybe you misread the situation. Maybe your instincts were wrong. Maybe your mind was just playing tricks on you.

But you offer a silent prayer of thanks for being kept safe, and now all the money and training doesn't seem such an inconvenience. Because you hope it always ends like this, but you can't be sure.

Hair Thingamajig

My wife has thick hair. Like, I'm afraid of the shower drain thick hair. She has this cute little decorative metal hair holder thing, and her thick hair snapped the wooden dowel that came with it. It just recently snapped the replacement thingamajig that she bought to use in the original's place.

Last night, she asked in a rather exasperated voice if I had 'any heavy duty wood that you can make a stick out of for my hair?'

Today, I was diligently puttering around in the shed, and came across an oak dowel I bought last year. I forgot what I bought it for, so I decided to make a hair thingamajig. I pulled out my Opinel No. 7, and the piece in the photo is the result. At it's thinnest point, it's about as thick as the thickest point of the one my wife recently broke. And it's oak.

I told her if she breaks this one, she's on her own.

MOAS

We took a trip to the Museum of Arts and Sciences in Daytona today. We passed the Daytona Speedwayon the way there.

Also, Elyas rode a Harley. Well, a toy Harley. Still, it was fun.

Awesome museum, by the way. They have everything from ancient weapons, to muscle cars to a planetarium to a hands-on kids museum to vintage coca-cola items to native american cultural exibits, and much, much more. It was a blast. If you're in the area, make the trip.

Thoughts on Concealed Carry

I have a deep-seated respect for cops. My father was a Probation and Parole Officer for 20 years, and currently is a sherrif's deputy. It's safe to say that I understand more about cops than most non-officers. Yes, some can be petty and power hungry, but most I've met are just guys wanting to help their community. The image of the ball-busting asshole highway patrolman just isn't how I see officers. -and yes, I've run into a few of them, but most of my dealings with law enforcers have proven that they are generally soft spoken and curtieous.

Why is it that I now feel on edge when dealing with police officers?

I was at the local playground a few days ago with my son. We were the only ones there, and from certain views into the park, it's probable that a pedestrian couldn't see my son. To them, it would look like a lone guy standing alone in a playground. Creepy-guy.

After a half hour or so, a bicycle cop pulled up under the pavilion, and I waved and said hello. He smiled and responed with a 'hello', and stepped off of his bike. He was approximately 40 feet away from me, and he keyed his radio, saying something to the effect of 'guy playing with his kid'. He drank a sip of his water, climbed on his bike, and pedaled away.

Now, don't get me wrong. I have a son, and I'd rather get questioned a dozen times than NOT have someone call in some random guy hanging out in the playground. Better safe than sorry. But I also noticed something about myself.

When dealing with cops, now that I carry every day, I tend to get a small adrenaline spike. I don't expect them to hassle me, or give me a hard time, but I know that I have something in my pocket that isn't normal for most citizens. I know that if an officer decides that I need to be questioned, I have a responsibility to that officer to let him know that I'm armed. It may not be required by law, but I feel that officers deal with enough shit on a daily basis. They deserve, when dealing with an honest citizen to know all the angles. It keeps him safe, it keeps me safe, and it avoids misunderstanding. But what if he gets froggy? What if he wants to place me in cuffs, and I have my son nearby? Honestly, if by myself, I'd have no problems with the officer detaining me in cuffs. I know I won't do anything to warrant an arrest, and anything that diffuses a situation an makes the officer feel safer until the situation gets sorted out, I'm all for.

But I carry a gun, and I am often with my son, and I want him to be safe. So my adrenaline spikes, in response to my wondering: what type of officer will I get? A cool, collected officer that just wants to solve a situation, or a hothead, who gets froggy when something out of the norm gets thrown his way, and who doesn't take the time to hear all the facts before reacting.

And so, even though I try to shake the hands of officers and thank them whenever I see them in a restaurant or gas station, and even though I grew up with an officer for a parent, I find myself on edge when dealing with them now.

Is this a normal side-effect of carrying?

Light Blogging Ahead

My computer's on the fritz. I have a friend fixing it, but I'm without an actual computer for the next few days. All my webernets use will be via my phone, so please understand if posts are sporadic and I don't reply promptly to emails and such.

Sorry, and thanks for bearing with me!

Red Beans and Rice

I soaked a bag of Red Beans last night. I put them on at about 9am, and they've been bubbling happily ever since. Threw in some Tony's, 2 mmedium onions, 2 large bell peppers, a heaping tablespoon of minced garlic, and a pound of smoked sausage around 11am. Added a roux about 1pm. It should all boil down to a thick consistancy by 5pm. I'll cook some white rice to serve it over, and maybe a pone of cornbread for a side.

It's been too long since I made a proper pot of Red Beans and rice. I'm looking foreward to it.

For Nancy R.

I spent my time in the carpenter's shop this weekend making this utensil set. It's carved from one block of maple.

I got into the blacksmith's shop for an hour and forged the blade out of mild steel, as it's just a table knife. It's plenty sharp enough to cut a steak, but I didn't worry with using high carbon steel, as it likely won't see HEAVY use.

Nancy, you said if I ever wanted to get rid of some treen wear to let you know. Shoot me an email at j (dot) dezendorf001 (at) gmail (dot) com, and the set is yours. It'll be a week or 2 before I get it in the mail, but I'll shoot you an email and let you know when it goes out.

Haircut

I lowered the boy's ears this morning. Ain't that a fine lookin' little man?

Thoughts on Concealed Carry

That's a Safariland shoulder rig. It was made for 4" barrel S&W K-frames. My father carried his in it for years, but it got left behind when he moved in with his then-fiancee (Now the world's best step mother), so I acquired it for myself. Now, a Taurus 627 is the same size as a S&W K-frame, except the Taurus has a full barrel shroud. I have a few K-frame holsters, and my Taurus 627 fits them all as if made for them. This holster is no different. It fits perfectly.

That being said, I decided to try shoulder carry for the first time today. It's a comfortable, low humidity day, and I felt comfortable about layering, so it seemed like a good day to try. I am overweight, so my button-down shirts aren't fitting anyway, therefore they make a good over-garment. I wore an undershirt, put on my shoulder rig, and went to run errands. It was quite comfortable! I was out for over an hour, and had no discomfort at all. In fact, the grip tucked nicely right over my love handle, and my elbow naturally kept the gun tucked in tightly. It was a great way to carry. If I were to carry this way frequently, I'd need to get a pair of wooden grips, as the Taurus Ribber Grips grab the fabric of the over-shirt and don't allow it to move naturally, but that wouldn't be a big problem unless someone is actively studying you.

My biggest problem came as I was walking up the steps of my porch. The Taurus FELL OUT of the holster! It has a floating firing pin, and as it's a 7 shot I usually leave the chamber under the hammer empty to reduce the chance of accidents, and it was on a wooden step that it fell, but assume it fell on concrete and I didn't take safety precautions, and it had a fixed firing pin. I shudder to think!

So, Dad, did you ever experience you firearm coming out with this holster? I'm definitely doing some more thinking about this before shoulder carrying again.

*EDITED TO ADD*

This isn't the first post I've had with this title. I think I may start a weekly Thoughts on Concealed Carry. We'll see how it goes.

Lint

It's amazing at how much crud one of these little snubbies can collect when you pocket carry every day.

This Is What Happens When I Get Bored At Work

Eighteenth Century Spork! Heh! I crack myself up.

Curios

While antiquing a week ago, I came across this coin. It's a Louisiana Luxury Tax Coin, and it dates to about 1930. What was it doing in a coin display rack in an antique store in northeast Florida? Got Me. I did know that for $2.50, it was coming home with me, though.

I went and bought some black cord for a buck, and now the little piece of aluminum is a mighty fine necklace. And conversation piece.

9/11

Remember.

Tasty Frozen Goodness

Ya know what I miss?

Eggnog. Not just any old eggnog, though. Eggnog from Maggio's Package Liquors, in Natchitoches, LA.

It tasted like vanilla ice cream blended with rum, and sprinkled with nutmeg.....

Man, I want some Maggio's Eggnog.

Progressive Quiz

Your ideological score is:

144/400

This makes you very conservative

The average score for Americans is

209.5

I honestly feel more 'middle of the road'..... I guess I'm more conservative than I thought. Of course, they were primarily asking questions concerning business and government. If they would have hit on guns, they would have focused on the only issues that I feel more conservative-leaning about.

The Shed

I just spent the better part of two hours cleaning out my shed. It had gotten so bad that there was only about 2 square feet of free space to move in. My shed is a solid 16x10....

At any rate, I now have a good 10x10 area cleared out to work in, with just a few feet on the back wall holding stuff, and a few feet on the near wall with stuff bound for the garage sale. I've had lunch and a shower, and I'm whooped. Time to relax.

Gumbo

I made the first gumbo of the season monday. I had half a dozen friends over and we ate gumbo, drank beer, and told a few lies. A good time was had by all, and now, 2 days later, I'm still enjoying left-overs.

It just keeps getting better and better.

Beer Glasses

I was outside trimming the hedge today when a box arrived via the USPS. It was addressed to me, so upon thanking my mail carrier, I took the box in and opened it. My brother had sent me a set of six glasses from the Boston Beer Company. They are designed by Jim Kotch to give the best flavor presentation of botique beers.

Talk about a great gift. Thanks, Matt!

Prosit!

Jambalaya

I made one.

It was good.

My Leather Kit

Here is the new Portmanteau that I made to carry my leather working kit. It's about 10 inches long, just for a size reference. It's basically a small leather tool bag. There is a scroll embroidered on the lid, and it has been blacked with an iron and vinegar stain, followed by a heavy oil coating. I have been furiously antiquing in order to get together a decent leather working kit, and while I still need a few things, I feel pretty happy with what I have so far. It's enough to go on with.

In the below picture, you'll see my kit as of today. The bottom of the portmanteau is in the top of the picture, again for size reference. My kit consists of, left to right:

A small pencil, a leather knife, a dog-leg square awl, a round awl, a set of dividers, a brass-bound boxwood folding ruler, a block of beeswax, linen thread, a needle case, and a set of calipers.

All I need to complete my kit is a tap-awl, a rawhide mallet, a square, a diamond awl, a small tin to hold my wax block, a few more needles, and a pair of needle pliers.

Yay for antique stores!

A Late Call

I work the night shift Fridays and Saturdays. I tend a 1740's period tavern, and I'm there from about 5:30 till 12:30. I leave my phone on silent, as a ringing cell wouldn't exactly be period correct, but I check it about every half hour, as I have a kid at home, and I want to be in the loop if the wife needs me for something. I got a call from her around 9:15 tonight, which is highly unusual. She normally texts me around 9:30, wishes me goodnight, and I kiss her when I get home at about 12:40.

A call from her sets off warning bells.

I nodded to the other bartender, and told him I had to check a call. I went out back and called my wife, and she told me that she was in the shower and heard our dog bark, so she wrapped a towel around herself and turned on the porch light and checked the peephole. There were two guys standing on the porch.

They appeared to be two college-age white dudes. Hipster-types. Didn't look like they were up to no good, more like they were looking for a party, and found the wrong house. She flicked the light off, grabbed the kiddo and the dog, and holed up in the bedroom. She got one of my revolvers down, and called me. The guys left before she got settled in the bedroom. The porch light going off was obviously hint enough for them.

She assured me that she was fine, and told me I didn't need to come home, and the confidence in her voice assured me that everything was OK, but the whole incident has made me wonder.

I'm very strongly 2A. I was raised around guns, and I love them for a multitude of reasons, but today I'm glad I had one loaded, accessible to my wife, and that I've taken the time to take her to the range and show her how THAT PARTICULAR GUN functions. She's shot it before, and knows how it works. She's actually a pretty decent shot, considering how infrequently she goes to the range. But she knew where the gun was, how it shoots and loads, and what to expect from it. And that empowered her enough to feel safe and comfortable in a weird situation.

Know your weapons people. Practice with them. Keep them available for when you need them. Make sure others in your house know the weapon and how to use it. Be in control when your world slides sideways. It may help you get through a scary situation like it did for my wife. Or it may just save your life.

I think I'll ask my wife if she wants to start making range trips with me.

Beer

The local liquor store was running a sale on a micro brew I like. Two 6-packs of Summit for $8.59.

Hard to beat.

Accessorizin'

So like 99.9% of 1911 owners out there, I have now accessorized my Springfield. I've been eyeing those Hogue wraparound grips for a while, but I like the look of wood panels, so I've avoided buying them. Today I spied something interesting at my favorite gun shop.

The Pearce PG1911-1 grip allowed me to keep the current grips but still get the benefit of the finger grooves, and it requred minimal work with a razor blade to fit properly. The 1911 now fills my hand to my satisfaction, and if I ever get a set if ivory panels, I don't have to give up the finger grooves.

Success!

Speed Loaders

I have a HKS 36-A Speedloader for my S&W 638, but it's really too bulky to carry comfortably in the manner that I choose to carry, so today I stopped by my favorite local gun shop, and asked if they had any Bianchi 580 Speed Strips for sale. They didn't, but today was ordering day. Now, I could probably save a dollar by ordering online, but I like to support local businesses.

They'll be here on Friday.

Dinner and a Ride

Me, the wife, and boy-o went to a friend's house for dinner.

Kay and Tom are wonderful hosts, and Catherine and Joe were there as well. We had a great time chatting and catching up.

The food was AWESOME! Rare roast beef, roasted veggies, baked bread, great salad, fresh fruit, key lime pie and cheesecake. Great spread, plain and simple.

After dinner, though, Tom took me for a ride in his Shelby. It's a kit car, and he finished the build I believe in 2001. Originally with a 426, he's had it bored and stroked to a mere 521 cubic inches.....

My writing doesn't do it justice. Just watch the video. It was a fun ride.

Me and the Boy-o

Hidden in Plain Sight

How do you transform a gun cabinet into classy bedroom furniture?

Step 1. Buy some fru-fru patterned paper that matches the bedroom decor.

Step 2. Line up the pattern and tape inside the glass face.

Step 3. Close gun cabinet.

Step 4. Admire handiwork and ingenuity.

Would that be tactical furniture?

Unprepared.

Out and about around town, and I forgot to put my gun in my pocket before leaving the house. A month Ago I felt odd carrying. Now I feel unprepared without my S&W. Kinda like forgetting a pocketknife, I just feel as if I'm not ready for what life my throw at me.

Home is the next stop, thank god.

Saturday Range

My wife took the boy and went to the gulf coast to see her grandmother today. My shift at work got switched to an evening shift in the tavern, and it left me with a whole day to myself.

Flummoxed with all the free time, I decided to mow and weed eat the yard. I finished around 10:30, so I went ahead and straightened the house, but it wasn't really dirty, so by 11:00 I was all alone with nothing to do.

So how did I kill my time? I beat feet for the local gun shop, and acquired some targets, and headed to the range to shoot my new 1911. It's a Springfield GI45, and I'd only shot it once before.

In short, it's pretty darn accurate. Now some new sights may be in it's distant future, but it still preforms admirably. I did all my shooting from a weaver stance at 7 yards, and while the targets aren't great, I was just having fun plinking, so I noticed that I frequently had a loose grip, and I didn't pay any attention to my breathing. My technique was lousy, in fact. But usually when I go to the range I spend all my time working on technique, so it was great to just go shooting for fun.

Even given the sloppy technique, though, the 1911 preformed for me.

The first picture is 50 rounds, weaver stance, 7 yards.

The second is 6 rounds, weaver stance, 7 yards (I was going to run a full magazine, but I only had 6 rounds left at that point.)

Nothing in the world like some recoil therapy!

P.S., Dad- that was your reload, just FYI

Meat Pies

So I was going to post about Meat Pies yesterday.... yeah.

I didn't take any pictures, but they sure were tasty! Our friend had a great birthday party, and everyone left with a full belly. I guess that counts as a win, even if I forgot to document the experience.

Burgers

I made bacon cheddar burgers tonight, with french fries. Dressed up with mayo, pickles, and lettuce, they're hard to beat.... Yeah, an amber lager helped it go down well, too...

Tastiness!

Two Model Twelves

After yesterday's post, I thought I'd post a few side-by-side pictures of my two Legacy Model Twelves.

The one with most of the bluing gone belonged to the Morrisons.

The one with the custom stock was my Grandpa's.

Ain't they a pretty pair?