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.