Gun Culture

If your are a member of the gun culture, here are a couple of movies I believe you'll enjoy. They get it right when it comes to weapons handling and terminology. And, their pretty good movies too.

I'd hate to pick my favorite between these two movies....picture me leaning towards 'Way of the Gun,' and yet....Ronin is hard to beat.

Stephen

Tuesday Morning Ramblings

I'm tired, whipped, wore out, and just plain weary. It's been a hard weekend for me. My weekends consist of Sunday and Monday since, as you know, I own a small business and have worked Saturdays for close to thirty years. If you have wondered why I seldom if ever post on Sunday and Monday, now you know.

Since Sweet Wife and I were married we have only had one day per week together, Sunday. So I devote that day to my family, Mondays I take care of yard work and other odd jobs around the house. All this to let you know it's awful hard for me to spend time on the computer for those two days. Sorry.

This weekend, along with my chores, I've had to spend many hours in an attempt to keep my wife's spirits up. We recently learned her mother, a nice southern lady of eight one, has a mass located behind her left eye within her brain. My mother in law will have surgery here at the Mayo Clinic this week. We'll know more later this week. As you can well imagine Sweet Wife is beyond herself with grief. It's been a long weekend.

On a good note I picked figs yesterday. Really, I did. You ask, so what. Well, allow me to explain. I have this most beautiful fig tree in my backyard. Its huge, I mean big. At least twenty five feet tall, its branches fan out in a graceful sweep of at least fourteen feet. Its loaded with figs. For the last eight years I have only been able to harvest one or two a season.
My home is located on the river, a large river and next door is a city park/wildlife preserve. Raccoons own our neighborhood. Between them and the birds and the squirrels I'm lucky to get those one or two ripe figs a year. Imagine my surprise yesterday while mowing the lawn I glanced up and noticed ripe figs. Out came the ladder and I picked, all the while fighting off four little Carolina Wrens, little boogers buzzing my head in defense of their fruit. My harvest was a nice bowl of fifty to sixty ripe sweet figs. Victory at last.
I'm sure last night the coons cussed me.

End of ramblings. If you believe in prayer I would certainly appreciate your prayers for my mother in law. I truthfully believe she will need them. Thank you.

Stephen