The One Hundred Yard Challenge

I like this 'ole boy. I also like the fact he took his challenge only using a bi-pod, but feel its still cheating. Too many use the crutch of a bench rest and sand bags to shoot. A rifleman should be able to hit this target from the standing position. Then again, he's shooting for a personal score. Why be picky.

Stephen

Bits & Pieces

In honor of Mrs. S., I've just switched on my coffeemaker.

Our weatherjerk has forecast rain and I'm prepared. I've a good book (One Second After, my third or forth reading) and it seems a quiet day to relax. I'm at work, but after a day like yesterday where the action was none stop and a few days after payday, I think it'll be slow around here today.

I do have a couple of long pieces to write. These memories have haunted me for weeks and I need to get them recorded while they're still fresh in my mind. Trouble is, I like to write when I'm certain I'll not be disturbed, which isn't possible here at the shop.
Someone will always walk in and flop down and want to talk. I'm not good at idle chit-chat. Some even call me reserved, too quiet. So be it. Anyhow, maybe I'll write a longer piece today. I always hammer my pieces out. Never a draft, just write as the words pour from my mind. Not an easy process. I seldom if ever edit, and that tells on me. So, we'll see how it goes today.

I have a working title for one of the pieces. South Moon Under. Don't steal it or I will track you down. I'll find 'ya and smack 'ya one. One or two of you might have read Majorie Kinnan Rawling's novel of the same title. It was one of my favorite books as a young man. Its setting was but a few miles from my current home. If you haven't as yet read the book, you're missing something wonderful. It is available in Kindle edition.

The piece I hope to write, of course, will be very different and from memory, if my muse allows. It isn't pretty. As I've written in the past, memories are killing.

Little Bit was very chipper this morning. She will attend the zoo today (they should be there now) with her class and her step-mother as one of their chaperons. She bounced in her seat and had the biggest smile planted on her face...."Papa, we get to eat a sack lunch. It's wonderful, Papa. A real sack lunch."

Hey, it's the little things.

"Papa, do you like the zoo?"

Game time.

"No, Honey, Papa doesn't like the zoo."

"Why not?" She turns to me and puts on one of her pouts. "You and Nana take me all the time."

I waited for an adjustment to my driving and glanced over and smiled and said, "Cause, it stinks, and its always hot and its expensive and the snacks cost far too much and the zoo doesn't allow Papa to shoot the critters for practice. That's why."

Big brown eyes stare back at me. She crinkles up her face and her mouth falls open. I've moved to the left lane and watch a truck cut me off. I'm smiling, inside. I chance a quick look her way. It's working.

"Papa."

"What, Honey."

"You're mean."

"Ah, Little Bit, Papa isn't mean. Seriously, wouldn't it be fun to ride the zoo train with our rifles and as we come upon the cages of animals select a target and bag some fresh meat."

Sometimes, mind you, I go a wee bit far with my jokes.

"Oh, Papa." She began to cry. Oops.

"Honey."

She's turned face towards her window and ignores me. I reach and gently rub her little shoulders and say, "Sweetheart, Papa was just joking."

Cheerful and chipper mood dispelled.

After we've reached our destination I parked and reach and pulled her into my arms. I felt awful. I explained I was just making fun, joking. She finally understood and forgave me. I helped her apply her 'lipstick.' Fake stuff her Nana gave her for Christmas. Then, "Papa."

"Yes, Honey."

"You'd never really hurt the Zoo animals would you. You really mean it when you said it was a joke, didn't you, Papa."

"Of course, my sweet little girl, of course."

She went to school with a smile.

I'm a good Papa....

Stephen

Thanks & Welcome

What a nice surprise to open my blog this morning and find a new friend has hit my follower button. Her name is Heidi and if my eyesight doesn't yet fail me it appears she has two beautiful little girls...the picture is kinda small.

Thanks, Heidi. I promise to always answer your comments. Give those little ones a kiss for me. Children are my weakness.

Again, thanks and welcome. You are now among friends.

Stephen

It's Late Afternoon

And I'm too busy to write. Sorry. I've tried several times to sit and smack out some kind of post and as soon as I place hands on keyboard the bell to my shop rings.

Maybe later this evening.

The fact I've had but one cup of coffee today should tell you how I feel.

Stephen

Thanks & Welcome

To my two new friends and followers, Mazie and Rynk. My friends, I promise to always answer any comment left on this blog. It takes a few hours, and at times, a day or two, but rest assured I will reply. If for any reason I miss your comment let me know and I'll correct the oversight.

To my other kind followers and friends, please take a moment and say hello to our two new friends.

Again, thanks and welcome. You are now among friends.

Stephen

After Action Report

With birdsong and a gentle warm breeze we pulled into the Boar's Nest and unloaded, we three friends. Three of us absent, unfortunately. A moment after I stepped from my truck I heard a hawk let loose a scream, somewhere out over the river. It was nice to be back after three months. 

The horse greeted us. He's a future asset.

We three unloaded our gear and set to our task; a simple but necessary little job. Afterwards ShooterSteve assembled a small table he'd donated to the group for the bunkhouse.
The silence of the countryside was, at least to me, a peaceful and welcome change from the constant noise of the city. I remember Duke quietly commented, "I'd move here if  possible."
Moments later he took broom in hand and began to sweep the deck. The pines dump tons of needles and twigs between our visits.

The Boar's Nest now has power, and behold, lights. 

Above, after lunch it was range time. The river is just beyond the tree line.

Above, one of two pieces Duke brought along to wring out. Number two below.

I set them atop my ammo can for the snapshot. Now, for bonus points, whom among you can tell me which is the oldest. If you guess, give me the years of manufacture. The winner gets an all expense trip to our shooting range courtesy of Duke. (if you believe me I have a bridge for sale.)

We compared weapons, spoke of friends and times past. Listened to an owl and the wind sing and enjoyed each the others company. I took a seat in the shade and watched two of my best friends and felt very privileged to have another chance to share such a fine day. They always make me smile. Below I, by accident, captured a silhouette of my best friend, Duke, as he examines an old rifle found by ShooterSteve.

Above, Duke decides to shoot a wild charging target stick. He did hit it. Later he took this same handgun, placed it on a rolled towel as a rest, and put six shots into one tiny spot on his target. The old revolver proved quite accurate. 

At Noon our friend, Senior Chief, released from duty by his lovely wife, JUGM, joined the fun. He arrived to find me gone. I had duties at home too. And, truth be known, I haven't regained all my strength. I hate weakness. Still, it was a nice day. 

I came home to this:

Taken a few minutes after I arrived. If anyone has questions why we train and prep as hard as we do, there in deep sleep, is your answer...

Have a great day.

Stephen

Slinging Lead

The Duke and I have a date with our friends to burn powder and sling lead tomorrow out at our retreat. After Senior Chief is released by is cute wife, Jacked Up Glock Mom, he might join us. We're not sure yet if she'll allow it.

We'll do a few chores on the Boar's Nest then hit our private firing range. Should be fun. It's been a while since I've had the smell of gun powder in my nostrils. Can't wait.

It's a given I'll take along one of my AR's and a couple of Glocks. Maybe, just maybe, a 1911...not sure.

I'll try and take pictures.

These are file photos. I'm not about to hobble into our office and open a safe just for a picture...

 

I should dig out my M1A and let her stretch her legs but have you priced good surplus ammo lately. She'll stay securely tucked away in the gunsafe.

Perhaps I should take a couple of revolvers. I've many from which to choose. Decisions, decisions.

Again, the price of ammunition paints my thoughts when I think about unleashing my Raging Bull.

Whatever baby I decide to take for a ride I'm sure it'll be enjoyable to shoot. Come on down and join us.

See 'ya late tomorrow.

Stephen