Bits and Pieces

Our recent Nor'easter has diminished. I'll miss it as I like the cloudy rainy days and wind. Temperatures have leveled to the mid-seventies with low humidity. The dryness gives me drive.

I've purged my office. It's clean, less cluttered and the dust has all but been eliminated. Yesterday I humped six huge garbage bags of junk to the trash container and with each trip I dumped years of memories. I'm sure I made some bum very happy as he dumpster dived last night.

Anyone want a 1951 model Burroughs cash register? It works.

*****

Our group met here at the shop last evening. We've agreed to cancel our table at the monthly gun show, for reasons we'll not discuss. We have though agreed to attend and sell at a later date, perhaps early next year. Shucks.

The group will have its monthly work day in a couple of weeks and should be fun. After our planned projects are completed we'll hit the firing range and blast vast quantities of small caliber lead down range. We'll restrict ourselves to small lead as hunting season is underway and its a real pain in the rear to explain dozens of bullet riddled bodies hanging from deer stands. Laws kinda funny about such stuff.

What tics me off is these Fudd's are well aware their hunting grounds back our firing range. It's a shame they can't be sports about it and wear bright orange targets on their backs.

But what 'da heck, .22's are cheap.

*****

Now, a chapter from the daily news without commentary....

I've had at least a half dozen customers come in and complain they've lost their medical insurance. All are self-employed. One man explained if he chose the plan offered by his agent/insurance company, his monthly premiums would double and his deductible jumps from three thousand to seven per year.

Silence.

*****

Under a box in my office I've just found a stash of long lost military brass.  In total, about a thousand pieces. I'll not count. Seems to be a mixture of (in civilian terms) '06 and .308.

It's time to hit the bench.

Later, and hey, be careful out there.

Stephen
  





    

It's Morning

And my coffee is hot and I feel fine. Been kinda busy around here for the last two days. We accomplished, a bit. At least progress has been made on many fronts.

*****

I can't decide if I'll visit the gun show this weekend. The thought of it beckons, thing is I just can't afford to waste money. Sure, I can dig into my savings but I'd have nightmares for a week if I spent one lousy dollar. Repeat after me - a need and a want.

It is truly amazing I haven't shot someone this week. Late yesterday I had a long hard drive in city traffic.  I drove as a thunderstorm pounded the city senseless. Round trip, the drive took me forty-five minutes one way. Remember, city traffic.

I didn't keep count but I swear I must have been cut off at least ten times. Close encounters. Chrome scrapers. Liberals with cell phones stuck to their little bitty ears. Obama bumper stickers.

I'm a man of discipline, but I swear my patience wears thin....

My lovely friend, DFW, is on her way to San Francisco. Yesterday, I think, she asked readers for tips, advice, for those places the average tourist would never visit. I didn't comment and it's bugged me. So, my dear, try City Lights Bookstore. Its still in business, to my surprise.

One of my all time favorite bars was the old Albatross Saloon. They tagged a bar stool in my honor. Spent many an hour in the joint nursing one of their martinis, three olives. Once upon a time, if memory serves me, Jack Dempsey was employed as a bouncer. Like I said, it was many years ago. I lived across the Bay and drove over every weekend. My little one room apartment was a lonely place.

  

The door bells rings. Guess I should walk out and become a capitalist. I'll see you nice folks later.

Stephen 

Bits and Pieces

This is the fourth day I've been without the company of my lovely Sweet Wife. Sure is quiet around here. She should be home tomorrow. Since her departure I've lost myself in books.

*****

I've made great progress on the rusty ammunition. I still have a few pieces of the 7.62x39 left then will move on to the 9x19.

*****

I lost my oldest Rosemary plant to the flood. Ticks me off. I'm down to one plant. I was out in the yard yesterday and found it dead. Rosemary hates wet roots. I love to cook as much as I love to shoot, so I view this loss like the thief of a favorite rifle.

Since I've mentioned rifles I need to break open the gunsafe and clean my M1A and take her out to the range and strain her barrel. I've haven't fired her in quite a long time. I'm certain she misses me.

*****

I hear rain. Its a soothing sound on an early Sunday morning. Here I am with a good cup of coffee, my Sunday newspaper, and a very quiet house, and the gentle sound of rain. Perfect if you're a hermit. I can even hear my stomach growl. Guess I should eat breakfast.

Back in the day my mother always made the same breakfast. Bacon and eggs served with grits, and if we were very lucky, redeye gravy and biscuits the size of your fist. Those biscuits were flaky and soft as an angles breast, and I'd drench mine with butter. I'd cut my biscuit in half and place two slices of folded bacon in the middle.

Lord I miss her. I haven't eaten a decent breakfast since I was seventeen years old.

When I was about twelve I'd fantasize I was a cowboy with a saddlebag filled with my mother's bacon biscuits and a canteen of sweet iced-tea. This childhood dream always ended with me riding down that lonely western trail with a grin of happiness. I mean, what cowboy wouldn't be happy with a saddlebag filled with bacon and biscuits as his pony trotted towards adventure.

 *****

I read in the paper this morning that the author, James Lee Burke, has just published a new novel, Creole Belle. I haven't read a Burke novel in quite a long time and think I'll order this one in hardcover. I've mentioned before, on this blog, I'm not a fan of his politics but I do like and enjoy his writing style.

He's the best prose stylist this country has seen in many years. Just an FYI.

*****

Next weekend we have a gunshow in town.  One of my friends asked if I'd attend. Not sure. I'd like to but he forgets I must work for a living and my shop is open on Saturdays, the best day in my humble opinion, to attend the show. Then again, I might sneak down on Sunday. Deals are to be had on Sunday it's just the good stuff has been sold.

Besides, I always spend far too much cash when I attend. I always walk the show with little things in mind, like spare parts, or books.

I collect the works of Ragnar Benson. Gunshows are great places to fill any hole in your Benson collection. He appeals to those of us in the gun culture. If you haven't read his books, well, shucks, I feel sorry for you. He's not the best writer in the world but when your books are banned in California and other liberal jackass states you must be doing something right to piss off the government wussies.

As I've said, many of his books have been banned and many are out of print. His early works were published in low numbers and as a result demand high prices. I have many holes in my Benson collection. Then again I've duplicate copies too so if any of you out there have this habit and own a few Benson books and need one - give me a yell and we'll swap.

I had a guy once tell me he's deathly afraid to have any copy of Ragnar's books in his home, mostly due to the subject matter. I asked him to leave my presence. I don't suffer fools easily.

Anyway, if you're man enough, find a copy and spend an afternoon with a real man. Any of his books will do to bring you back into the club.

Later.

Stephen

Decisions, decisions

I'm expected to attend a local, and large, gun show today. Problem is, I'm also expected to stick around the house and wait for my son to bring over the grandchildren for a long afternoon visit.

If I indeed attend the gun show I'll miss my chance to say goodbye to Little Bit. She'll be gone all week, her Spring break. She is to spend the week with my son's aunt and the aunt's two little girls, Little Bit's cousins. Decisions, decisions.

The clock ticks, and I wait and think. Should I give in and take a chance on the gun show holding my attention thereby forcing a showdown with my grandchild, sure to end in tears, or should I just blow off the gun show entirely.

Think I'll stay home. If I were to miss one hug or kiss, with full knowledge I'll not see her lovely little face for a week, would kill my soul.

Life is but a series of good and bad decisions. I trust I've made a good one.

Besides, she'd kick my butt.

Stephen