Gun Shirts

I have been acquiring gun shirts lately. My wife asked me to give her a list of things I might want for Christmas a few months ago, and for whatever reason, I put "gun shirts" on the list. She picked me out a brown tee with a 1911 on it.

I enjoyed it, and wore it on weekends, and it seems I have been acquiring a few. I now have a Browning logo shirt and a Smith and Wesson shirt, too.

Now, for years, I have had an array of tee shirts, and as I have worn them out, I have been replacing them with simple, solid color tees. I looked up some time last year, and realized I had no more band shirts or shirts with crass sayings on them left from my college days. And really, I was okay with that. My music tastes have changed, and now that I'm a father, I don't find shirts with expletives on this as funny.

But I no longer have shirts that express ME. Until my wife got me a gun shirt. I now have three shirts that say "this is the tribe I'm in". And I'm happy about that.

**DISCLAIMER**  Before anyone tells me "bad guys will know you are packing" or "you'll be shot first" or whatever nonsense, know that I'm not an idiot. I wear tee shirts around my house or while spending time with friends, or when I'm in the woods, etc. I don't wear them to get liquor and lotto tickets at 2am in the bad part of town. I am aware of exactly what I advertise when I put on certain clothes, and don't go out of my way to do dumb things (ever, but especially not) when I am wearing pro-2A "advertisements".

Woods Holster

My brother wanted a "woods holster" for his S&W M&P. He wanted a straight drop, low ride holster for walking his property, hunting, and rambling about outdoors. Just a basic woods holster.

I've been pondering on the design for a few weeks, and honestly couldn't fathom why he wanted this style of holster. But it was what he wanted, so I tried to figure it out.

I cut it so that the top of the grip rides below the bottom of the belt, because he wanted it low. To help with keeping the holster close to the body, I planned a tie-down on the holster. I did some tooling on the leather to make the M&P logo, and dyed it a contrasting tan. The rest of the holster I dyed black.

The project was pretty straightforward, and it came together easily. After completing it, I tried it on.

Man, I get why he wanted a holster designed in this way! I live in a big, largely liberal city. While I'm in law enforcement, and can carry pretty much anywhere, most places around here wouldn't be considered a permissive enviornment. Because of this, I make a lot of holsters that hold a gun in tight, and ride close to the belt. Most holsters I make are concealment holsters.

My brother lives in rural north Louisiana, and owns acreage. He works in a plant, and does a lot of outdoors things like 4-wheeler riding. A holster like this is PERFECT for that enviornment.

You pretty much would have to wear a trench coat to hide it, but that's not the purpose. It's a hell of a woods holster.

Overheard at the Office

(I work with a bunch of cajuns.)

Coonass#1- "Ey, dey got dem big ribeyes on sale at de Winn-Dixie."

Coonass#2- "Yah? Which Winn-Dixie is dat?"

Coonass#1- "De one dat sells da trans-a-missions."

Me- "Wait, what the hell are ya'll talking about? I ain't never heard of a Winn-Dixie that sells transmissions!"

Coonass#2- (with a look and a tone as if explaining something to a 6-year old) "Look, you know dem half-gallons of da whiskey? Da glass ones wit dem handles built in to da bottle? Ya turn dem bad boys on dere sides, and dey look like one of dem dere trans-a-missions."

(They both look at me with an expectant look as if to say "anymore questions, ya silly redneck?")

Life in cajun country.

Cowgirl

My sister recently got into the Cowboy Fast Draw game. My dad, Pawpaw, started into it about 2 years ago with my step-mom, and more and more of the clan is slowly getting into it. First was my Nephew, who I recently made the Bowie knife sheath for, then my Brother in Law, Greg. Now his wife, my sister wants to get into it. She has been going to club meets and practicing, and asked me a few weeks ago to make her a rig.

She wanted a medium brown leather setup with fancy border stamping and teal highlights. And she wanted her CDFA Alias stamped into the belt. Also, she wanted the holster made on a Mernickle pattern, meaning with a certain cant and ride height. My dad had one of those holsters handy, so I borrowed it to get an idea for a pattern.

Her holster is a single layer of very heavy, dense hide. It probably runs 12-13 ounces and is cut from the shoulder of the hide. This means  the leather is very, very dense and is about a quarter inch thick. Mernickle uses 2 thinner layers sandwiched together. Both ways have their advantages, but I personally prefer using a single thickness when possible, so that's the way I went. I also made her holster slightly longer than the Mernickle, as on theirs the barrel of the gun ever so slightly stuck out the bottom. That will not happen on mine. Lastly, I omitted the bullet deflector. Not because they are not a good idea, but because I didn't have suitable material to make one, and they are not required for competition.

This is the end result. I think she'll like it.

Finished

Now I have a cowboy fast-draw holster to make...

Next Step

Phase 1: Design and Layout, and Phase 2: Construction, are done.

Phase 3: Finishing and Dyeing are next.

9mm round for size comparison.

Sidebar

I updated the folks in my sidebar just now. Removed a few folks who stopped updating, and added a guy I've been following for a year or more. Frankly, I have no excuse. I've just been lazy. Check out Langiappe's Lair in the sidebar, and meet a fellow gun nut trapped in a beautiful, diverse, colorful, LIBERAL city. He moved to New Orleans recently, and seems to be having plenty of misadventures.

I've hung out with him a few times, and he's a blast. If you don't already read him regular, you should. He's a hoot.

Bowie

With a prolific and large as my clan is, we throw all the children's names into a hat every year, and draw names to see who you buy gifts for. In this way, we each only buy presents for 2 or 3 nieces or nephews, rather than having to buy gifts for a dozen.

One of the nephews that I got this year wants a bowie knife. He got into the Fast-Draw game with Pawpaw, and all the other teenage boys have bowie knives. I scouted around for a bowie at a decent price, finally finding one for not too much money. It's a cheap one, but it's more "costume" than "survival, so I'm not too worried about it. Thing is, it came with a truly horrendous, pleather sheath... in brown, no less. The boy has all of his fast-draw gear in black, so I'm going to make him a proper sheath for the knife. truth be told, when this is all done, the sheath will be worth more than the knife... but as I said, since it's for costume more than function, doesn't it make sense that it be clad in a really nice sheath?

I hope the boy can appreciate good leather.

Louisiana comfort food

In lieu of actual content on this wet, rainy day...

Gumbo

And bread pudding!

Firewood Folly

In my infinite wisdom, I decided I needed to acquire firewood for our fire pit today. We enjoy sitting outside around a fire with an adult libation, and we don't have much wood. After voting, I headed to a local pallet manufacturer that I heard sold scrap wood for cheap. It was an idyllic 20 minute drive down the highway into the country. When I got there, I was greeted at the office by a charming southern girl that said things like "ya'll" and "them over there" and said everything with a smile and a saccharine twang. Kind as can be, she informed me that I could buy a truck bed full of scrap for a 20 dollar bill, and she was sorry, but I had to load it myself. I gallantly smiled and slightly flexed my muscles as she pointed me to a mountain of wood probably 60ft high and twice that around. Looking behind it, there were several more piles like it.

The scraps were mixed hardwood and pine, and I could pick and choose. I tossed and loaded and cussed for 20 minutes, only selecting hardwood, then climbed into the bed of my F-150 to stack it. After packing it in neatly and tight, level with the top of the bed, I hadn't even gotten to the wheel wells! I gasped for air, having not thought that it would be as difficult as it was (am I really that dumb? did I really think it would be EASY to load a truck bed full of wood?!) and wished that I had brought a bottle of water. Or even better, liquor. Damn this wood!

The better part of an hour later, and I had finished filling the bed. Sure, the last 20 or so pieces were pine, but I was too tired to give a crap about climbing the woodpile AGAIN so I settled for the easy pickings near the base of the wood-mountain.

I stopped at a gas station near the pallet factory, and got a poweraid to rejuvenate myself, and wryly patted myself on the back. I had secured a whole truckload of fire pit goodness! I slowly crept home, savoring my electrolyte laden beverage.

A few blocks from my house, realization set in. I was going to have to unload all that damn wood! Ah, hell! I backed into the driveway, and got as close as I could to where I stack firewood, about 20 yards away. The firewood stared up out of the truck bed balefully back at me. It laughed. Or maybe I did. surely that wasn't a crazed sob that came from my lips?

I dreadfully cleared a path between my preferred firewood location and my truck. with grit and determination, I dutifully wheeled the wheelbarrow over to my truck. I started loading into the wheelbarrow. Was this wood heavier? Surely if each piece weighs this much, my rear tires should be flat! Over the course of the next hour, I made approximately 11 million trips back and fourth between my truck and the wood pile, neatly stacking each piece. Some of the stacks may look like a drunk with the shakes stacked it, but it must be because the wood was uneven. I take pride in stacking wood neatly.

Did you know that firewood has teeth? I didn't. But it must be true. I was stacking wood as carefully as can be (an outside observer may have thought I was worn-out and half-heartedly throwing wood willey-nilly on the stack, but this is a technique I learned from my father. It keeps your neighbors from feeling bad about themselves when they see you preforming nigh-superhuman feats of endurance), when one reached out with its teeth and bit me! Right into my cuticle on my right middle finger! As I said, I was being very careful to stack it neatly in spite of my neighbors oddly standing around pointing and laughing, so I know I couldn't have inadvertently smashed it between 2 pieces of firewood.

Finally the last piece of wood was stacked. I put the wheelbarrow away. I heard the leaf Springs on my F-150 sigh in relief. I'm pretty sure it was the leaf springs. I mean, I know it wasn't me... my sighs are quiet and dignified, not loud and screeching...

Anyway, the wood is stacked, and I am all set for a cheery fire that i can't enjoy, because the rain came in, damnit!

I'm sure that cruel witch at the pallet factory that convinced me that I was getting a STEAL on a truckload of wood for 20 dollars is cackling right now, enjoying my misery that the rain she called in would inflict.