M16A1

Isn't this a beauty. She's a Vietnam ear M16A1.

Granted it will not function as well as any current AR15 system we have today, but still, the grace of it. She's clean, uncluttered, no mall ninja junk or silly tactical after market crap strapped to her frame. A rifle, a relic of our past. I love it.

Stephen

Rawles New Novel

Don't forget. Writing Page.

This is part two of Patriots set in a different local with all new and a few returning characters. James has requested you wait until October 4th to order the book.

Stephen

A Gift of Fruit & Herbs

He walked in early this morning bearing a gift, a potted plant held close to his chest. Short little fella, perhaps seventy, wore a fedora.

Without preamble, "You'a help'a my'a grandson, Sir.." Accent is thick. My Italian is none existent. It takes me a moment to understand what in the heck he means. Then, oh yeah, the kid with the rusty pistol, an old Brazilian Panther. A copy of a Smith, made for their fighter pilots chambered in .38. Nothing special. It took three days of soaking to open the cylinder

I refocus on the old man as he continues, "For this'a help I gives you this'a peach tree and 'da basil I plant'a in the soil, 'cause you'a good man."

Shucks.

He explained the peach tree alone wasn't worthy so he'd seeded basil at its base. His son, he explained, had told him I loved to cook using fresh vegetables (true, cans are for emergencies) and herbs.

We talked, with a bit of difficulty due to his thick accent, for about an hour. We spoke of capers, what makes an excellent tomato for sauces, the best of olive oils, pasta and the use of pasta water as a thickening agent for pan dishes. He explained how his wife used a blender to mix fresh basil and olive oil and froze the mixture in ice trays to later thaw for a fresh infusion in her preparations.

We spoke of spring gardens, slugs and bugs. He gave instructions on the planting of the peach tree; not before spring. My peach tree, I understand, will produce small but plentiful extremely sweet peaches in three years.

In the above blurry picture I'm pointing out the basil...he told me to transplant it when it sprouted three 'leaf'as.'

I have a new friend.

Jeff Dunham

Will open his show, 'Controlled Chaos' here in the River City February 10th. The guy cracks me up.

Here's a classic from a couple of years back....

Tickets are on sale in about an hour...I'll bet you a case of .223 it sells out in ten seconds.

Stephen

Sleep of Tears

On those nights she sleeps between us, a warm soft bundle of love. She's such a tiny little girl she shares my pillow. I'm not sure when it happens but early on she'll gently worm her way inside my arms and snuggle. This pleases me.

It's difficult for me, sleep. It takes forever for my mind to allow the peace of rest to approach and shut out the demons of life. So I'm alert to her sleep patterns. As I wake, through out the night, I give gentle butterfly kisses and place my cheek to hers and listen and wait.

It always begins with her throwing out her arms, a jerk, a soft soul searing moan. Sometimes, a very very barely audible, "Oh, Papa." or "Nana." Then she'll begin to cry. This, does not please me. It rips out my heart.

I speak as soft as possible directly into her ear, "It's okay, Sweetheart, Papa's here, you're safe." And I use that 'shushing' sound in an attempt to lull her back to sleep. I kiss her and stroke her little arms. And, all the while asking God, why...why....why.

Most of the time my efforts work. She'll let out a gentle, 'ah' and return to dream land. Sometimes she takes my hand in hers and whispers, 'Papa.' I hold her tight and ask the Almighty to give this child, this angel, peace.

Many nights after these sessions I glance over and see her Nana wide awake with a look of sorrow in her eyes. We'll both stroke her, apply those butterfly kisses she so enjoys...."Papa, butterfly kisses are the way I know you love me."

She sleeps alone when she's away from us. Even now I hear her cries of nightly terror.

They haunt me.


Stephen

Tamara

Study in keen wit.

My thanks for the loan of this photo to, VolkStudio.blog. If you haven't visited you're missing out on some fine photography, pure art, of firearms and other subjects with a heavy emphasis on your rights under the Second Amendment.

Visit the lovely Tam, she'll make your day.

Stephen

Gotta Love It

Too busy to blog at the moment. So until later I give you....

Quote of the Day: Michael Z. Williamson

You live in a city. You don't know how to change a tire or oil. You don't know how to build a fire.  You can't communicate without a cell phone. You can't fix your plumbing. You can't set up your own wifi. You're untrained in basic economics, chemistry, physics and history.  You can't prepare food without packages, and aren't even aware that food has to be processed from root or bone before that. You only know and get paid for one very specialized task.

Yet you call me a "hick."

 H/T RobertM

Stephen