LightHeaded

I was late for work this morning.

Sleep eluded me until just after 0300. I'd barely closed my eyes when I felt a light touch and reality again slapped me in the face.

Record time with the shave and toothpaste, a slap of Old Spice, and I'm out the door.

Inside the shop I flipped switches and filled the till with cash and jerked a cup of coffee and with newspaper in hand I settled back to read. Granted I was a bit woozy, distracted, and chalked it to my lack of rest but I also felt as if I'd forgotten something important.

Five or six minutes into the newspaper I reached for my coffee and it hit me. My belt seemed wrong. I reached around. I forgotten both of my spare magazines. Trivial granted. Still, it bugged me to death.

It must be understood I've carried concealed for many years, probably longer than many of you have been potty trained. So long in fact I felt as if I'd left behind my right leg.

No worries. Tomorrow I will sit around a camp fire and relax, and shoot, and chew the fat with my friends.

Besides, my piece holds twelve rounds. If I can't hit the target (or some booger) with twelve rounds I might as well take a seat on the sofa and watch ball games with the rest of the hoople-heads. 


Lord, I'm getting old...

Stephen




 

Tickled Pink

It has arrived.

Me, all happy and stuff.

Stephen

I Need

I need to write, something.

Business is good but leaves little time for the blog. Many, I'm sure, have noticed my lack of comments on your blogs. Trust me, I haven't forgotten you.

After work this evening I must gather, sort, and pack my gear for the group weekend, after a quick market trip for a very large custom cut T-bone steak. The steak should ride in marinade for two nights and when I arrive at camp it shall be gently kissed by oak coals. Let the rest eat burgers...

Selections have been made for the range. At present I've selected two rifles and two handguns but these numbers might change according to my whims. I hope, hope, hope my order of .32-20 arrives from Midway before Saturday morning. Much depends upon it. I checked and haven't a single round in my stores. I'm a slacker.

The weathercritter has guessed rain for Saturday night. Fine with me as long as it holds until we kill the fire and hit our sacks. Rain on a tin roof pleases me.

If, I spot a deer I shall have a breakfast of venison loin. Deer range over the fields after darkness gives them the false sense of security. I have a nice bright flashlight. I know, I'm a bad boy. Get over it.

Sorry, gotta run.

This is me writing, something.

Stephen

Tomorrow

I hear the wind whisper. The small palm, just outside my office window, gently scrapes it fronds against the screen and it's an eerie sound, yet soothing. The shop is quiet. Swear I just heard a mouse fart.

Sorry for the long absence. No excuses. I just needed a break. As many of you know firearms are my first love - as far as a hobby, but if push came to shove books might edge out firearms. I've taken the last few days, in between chores at home, to read. Once I've taken the dive into a books pages I often find myself lost to all other distractions, and as a result, the blog suffers.

The mood around my home has suffered too. Tomorrow is her birthday. She'll turn eight. We've missed nine (almost ten) months of her seventh year. Yesterday we tried to shop for her birthday. Notice I wrote, tried. We have little information towards likes, dislikes, sizes, needs. Has she outgrown certain toys. Has her taste in dress changed over the last few months. Her foot size is now a mystery to us. And, the most important question of all - does she still care about us.

Influence, if applied directly and with enough force can indeed alter young minds.

With the above in mind, we shopped. She owns a gameboy (at least I believe its called a gameboy) so if she's allowed to accept our gifts she'll have two new games, and other little bits and pieces selected by her Nana. I purchased her a few age appropriate books.

(Edit: Sweet Wife insisted I correct 'gameboy' to 'DS.' Done...now perhaps she'll get off my back.)

It's been a dark weekend.

*****

Yesterday I cleaned a closet in my home office. You know you own 'too' many guns when you find six firearms stuffed far back in a closet (covered and blocked from view) you've forgotten. I swear on all that is Holy.

After I'd removed the first layer of junk I had just enough room to step inside the closet. Six bags of old Christmas paper, scrapes mostly, later and I was able to reach the right side shelves. I spotted a green handgun case. Inside I found an old revolver. I stood there like an idiot, mouth wide open, thinking, 'what 'da heck.'

I also found five long guns. Two or three shotguns and two rifles. I think. One an SKS Albanian. Go figure. Near the back of the closet I found two rather large pieces of art Sweet Wife had stashed. I moved them and behind I stumbled across five full boxes of Estate 12 gauge double ought buckshot, and twenty-five AR magazines, fully loaded. The magazines were a mixture of twenty and thirty rounders.

I'm rich.

I will not mention the other treasures, like for instance the M1A magazines, or the box of surplus ruck sacks, or web gear, stripper clips nor the fifteen or so rifle cases. If I were to mention the long lost items it might make me appear to be somewhat scattered brained - and you know that isn't true.

*****

This,

walked into my shop last week. I took her home. The man wanted forty dollars for her. The graceful old lady is safely tucked inside my safe. She's happy.

She was manufactured in 1936.

Guess.

I shall wring her out next weekend.

Until then,

Stephen

 

Tidbits

First, a cup of coffee. I'm not completely awake.

Ah, better. Thanks. I know, I wasn't around yesterday. Business has been very good and I feel blessed. It's been rough since the birth of this mini-depression. Some days I flip the sign to open and nothing happens, well there are drips and dabs, but I have time to sit and chat or read and write. Then the next day I flip the sign and its a mad house. The last two days I gave in and purchased a mad house license.

*****

I took my lovely wife out to dine last night. After we were seated and our drink orders taken I reached inside my jacket and slipped the small gift box across the table. She was very pleased. One elderly lady across the way gave me a big smile.

Dinner went well.

I had regrets. I think it would have been fun to watch Sweet Wife open a box and remove a rifle in the restaurant. To gauge the reaction of the staff as she slapped in the magazine and charged the bolt. Imagine the adrenal flow.

*****

Our weather has turned cool. We've had a couple days of light rain. The moisture was very welcome. All across North Florida flowers are in bloom. The camellias are beautiful. Now, since the rain, all the puddles are rimmed in green as a result of the great pollen fall. The air is once again clean and fresh and I feel so much better.

*****

At times I feel as if I own a pawn shop. I have a reputation. Whispers on the street, 'When cash is needed there's this guy...he'll buy your stuff.'

Other dude, 'Yeah, but he's mean and cheap. He will not pay retail.' 

Word....

Yesterday, three ounces of silver at twenty percent below spot. Digital camera sans USB cable, almost new in box, ten bucks.

Hey, man's gotta make a living. Trust me, there is a limit.

 Many years ago a gentleman drove into the parking lot, walked inside and invited me to take a look inside the trunk of his Town Car. The rear springs rode the axle. The trunk was filled to the brim with firearms. Rifles, both full and semi-auto, and there were shotguns and handguns galore, and I mean packed full as if just thrown in hast. Feinstein would have dropped dead from the exposure.

After a few seconds I took a step back and said, "No thanks."

Something about the man, his demeanor and dress, disturbed me. I asked the fella if he was a resident of Florida as the car wore Texas license plates. Said no, he lived on the road. Explained a lot. He bragged he'd driven many miles since he'd last slept. Asked if I'd like to make an offer on the entire contents.

Ever get the feeling you're about to step into a trap.....

*****

Next weekend our group will gather for a camp out. Much range time, both work and fun awaits. I pray the Good Lord gives us cool weather. I love a nice fire under the stars as frost tickles my toes.

Of course both Duke and Senior will attend.

By the way, Senior's lovely wife, Glock Mom had a birthday yesterday. She just turned twenty-eight (according to her, I think she's really twenty-five) so if you haven't as yet dropped in to say hello. Put a smile on her face.

Later.

Stephen

I'm Such a Romantic, part two

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. Rifles just don't cut it for Valentines Day. I hung a 'be back in a minute' sign on the shop's door and took a ride to the jewelers.

Tomorrow night I'll slip the gift box across the table and hope she smiles. Got her one of those open heart diamond thingamabobs.

Best picture I was able to find. Her thingamabob is bigger.

I'll grab a card and a few roses this evening.

After all, she's my punkin and I dearly love her. See, I am a hopeless romantic.

Stephen

Standby

No yet.

Soon, I promise.

Stephen