Remember a while back I talked about my wife's mom becoming interested in self defense and concealed carry? Well, her husband has apparently been silently looking for the gun she wanted, a Ruger LCR in .38 special, with Crimson Trace lasergrips. He found one, with a DeSantis holster, for around 3 bills...
Not only is it a great gift for his wife, but he got a screamin' deal, too!
My wife has been telling me recently that she would like to get the hammer bobbed on her Smith and Wesson model 60. She said that the appendix holster I made for her a few months ago is wonderful, but the hammer keeps poking her, and over the course of a few hours, it gets very uncomfortable. Well, we took her 60 to my father's for Sunday lunch, and after consulting dad's S&W manual, I started disassembling the gun, and got the hammer out. Now, my natural talents only extend a bit into metalwork, but my brother was there, and he's a whiz at all things metal. I explained what I wanted, and he got to work.
First, he cut off the majority of the spur with a cut-off wheel. Next, he used a flat-bastard file, and removed a lot more metal. He then went to needle files. After that, he used a bit of coarse emery cloth, then switched to a stone bit in a drill. Finally, he used a buffing wheel with valve-grinding compound.
I got the little j-frame all put back together, and we shot a few rounds through it. Everything functions like it should, and my wife's carry piece is exactly what she wants. I even learned a bit about gunsmithing along the way. Ya know, this project went easier than I expected, and I'm immensely pleased with the result.
Man, it's been a busy weekend. On top of going to swimming at the bayou, changing the oil in the car, and going to the zoo, I also made a new holster.
I've been doing a lot of thinking about what i'd like in a IWB holster, and I made one on Saturday. I wanted to be able to carry one of my auto's without worrying about the holster being seen. I like high rise holsters, so I decided that the holster would ride high, meaning I could go with a minimalist design approach. I wanted it concealable under a t-shirt. I wanted to be able to remove it quickly, so either a snap or a clip was in order.
What you see above is what I came up with. I wore it to the zoo for about 2 hours, and it rode comfortably, without causing discomfort, even after I began sweating.
More use will determine if I hit jackpot, but I'm liking the results so far!
I saw one of these a while back, I think maybe at Say Uncle. I showed it to my brother, because he loves all things metal, and all things guns. Apparently, he wanted one, so he made one, and built an extra, cuz he thought I might like one. It's pretty cool, and while the design idea is not original, there's only 2 in the world that my brother made. I happen to think that's kinda nifty.
Apparently, cheaply made Chinese brass tumblers don't hold up that well.
I don't think it's supposed to do that.
My son and I were home alone today, with the wife going to visit friends. We did the obligatory house cleaning, then we went to a children's museum, so the boy-o could do something different. On the way back, we swung by the hardware store to get a few bolts so I could mount my press to the bench. We swung through a sno-cone stand, but they were closed! On a Saturday! What the hell?
Anyway, when we got home, we tumbled some brass. While it was tumbling, I cooked dinner, and boy-o got to add the alfredo sauce and the garlic. After dinner, Boy-o helped me sort out the brass from the media.
It's been a good day.
As any redneck boys will do, we always found ways to entertain ourselves growing up. My brothers and I generally had loads of fun, and had surprisingly few accidents along the way, considering what we found fun. I mean, sure, I blew my eyebrows off a few times with potato cannons, and got a red ant pile dropped in my lap, and temporarily blinded my cousin once with a firecracker, but who didn't have stuff like that happen? No, today, I'm gonna tell you about one of the times when s#!t got serious. I'm gonna tell you about the knife fight.
It was early march, and I was about 10. My brother Matt was about 15, and Barrett was about 18. The winter chill was still lingering in the air, but in Mom's mind, it was time for spring cleaning, so that meant we had to get to cleaning, or get out of the house. Naturally, we were in the pasture, looking for a way to entertain ourselves.
We were all standing there miserably wiping our runny noses on the sleeves of our jackets, when Matt had a stroke of genius. He saw a 6 foot long 1X4 leaning against the wall of the shed, and decided to try to throw his belt knife into it. The wall of the shed was wood as well, so we could easily see how badly he missed, as his knife was quivering in the shed wall about 2 feet from the board.
Barrett and I each took our turns, then we all went and retrieved our knifes, and proceeded to try again. We were highly amused, and entertained ourselves in this way for a good half hour. Then, of course, my older brothers decided to play mean older brother games.
Matt threw his knife. 'Kerthunk'. Barrett threw his knife. 'Kerthunk'. Before I could throw mine, they winked at each other, and raced forward to retrieve theirs. I was a bit miffed, but I expected such boorish behavior from my brothers from time to tome. After all, they both were interested in girls at that point, and couldn't be trusted to display proper behavior.
They got back. 'Kerthunk, kerthunk'. They ran forward again, Barrett laughing in his fine new pair of insulated Carhart overalls.
The third time they did it, I had enough. While they retrieved their knives, I fumed, and as they turned around, I thought "I'll show them!" I threw my knife for all I was worth, right at the 1X4.
My aim was off. I sunk my knife right into the knee of a pair of brand new Carhart overalls. Barrett's face was actually pretty comical. His mouth made a large 'O', and his eyes were as big as teacups, whites showing all the way around. I was very concerned that I had killed him to death, and started forward, which proved to be my mistake. If I had taken off running immediately after throwing the knife, I'm sure I could have outrun him, or at least made it up a tree. As it was, I didn't realise my mistake until he reached down and slowly grasped the handle of my knife, and dislodged it from his knee, where it had superficially cut him. It probably would have been much worse if not for those thick new layers of Carhart on his knee.
In retrospect, I'm pretty glad he didn't have the presence of mind to hang on to my knife. If he hadn't dropped it before chasing me down, you may not be reading this today.
I placed an order to Lee Precision and one to Midway USA today. Now I have almost everything I need either in my possession, or on it's way here. I still need powder and primers, but I can buy them locally, and I still need a set of 9mm dies, which are out of stock everywhere. Midway expects to have some in by September, and my father has set up an automatic notification to be alerted via email when they come in.
Can't wait!
