On the Road

She's on the cell to her mother when I hear, "I'll leave Thursday, early."  I flip the newspaper aside and throw a long look in her direction - one of those, 'Huh, what 'da heck did you just say,' kinda looks, like that...

Her mother, again. Bless her heart she's headed back to Atlanta, land of the democritter, for another examination. My lovely wife will drive. She leaves this morning. I packed her SUV. She has water, blankets, a nice first aid kit, tools, flashlight, maps (Remember maps?) and her Get Home Bag, and of course, personal protection. Hey, it's a long drive to Crittersville.

Here's the thing - she asked for a second handgun, and not just any handgun. She wanted a revolver. And, she wanted me to spread a lap quilt on our coffee table and explain, again, how to load the magazines and operate her little Ruger LCP. So I jog to the firearms safe and remove a little Smith & Wesson Ladysmith .38 (Model 60), a nice little handgun. I slipped five Plus P's inside.

Twenty minutes later she's comfortable with the Elsiepea. She's slapping those magazines home like a pro. Me, all proud of her and stuff....

Asked her, "When do you cease fire?"

"The moment the booger ceases to moan."

Good girl.

I explained the need of practical footwear, socks, and a heavy jacket or coat. I know....I do tend to get carried away with the prep stuff, but remember, she's my wife and I'm kinda attached and very fond of her, and let's not forget her elderly mother. The LadySmith is for Mom - the 'Ole Girl is good with a revolver.

Each of my girls will hump full boxes of ammunition. When asked why I threw in the spare ammo I just turned to her and said, "Hey, Zombies."

Be careful out there....

Stephen

'Tis The Season

It's too warm here for the season. I want cold weather. Just glanced out at my thermometer, 63 degrees. Bah, Humbug.

Look what followed me home last night, little booger jumped into my truck and said take me home. I gave her a loving caress and she's now all toasty and snug under the Christmas tree waiting on Sweet Wife.

Here she is while fully dressed.

And naked.

House sure was quiet last night. So I wrapped my few personal gifts to Sweet Wife and placed them under the tree.

Not sure why but when I'm alone I feel little need to cook meals. Stopped at a fish place for take out and found myself reduced to eating fast food fish. Awful isn't worthy of its description.

At one point last evening I noticed my cat, out on the deck, at a fast back and forth pace in front of the French doors. I let her inside. She ran. I followed. She arrived in front of my family room chair and deposited a live baby squirrel on the seat.

Baby squirrel sat up and gave the place a once over. Cat smiled. Baby squirrel, I swear to all that's holy, did a little round about and settled in for the night. Sucker went to sleep. Cat continued to smile and rubbed my leg. Perhaps she felt this my gift for Christmas. I told her good girl but baby squirrels are not in the same class as veal. Then again.

The little squirrel fit into the palm of my hand. Big round eyes, long tail, tiny. I gently took the tiny creature and placed it back outside.

Wish I'd thought to have taken its picture.

We all fall from the nest time to time.

I miss Little Bit.

Stephen