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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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

Bits & Pieces

This post will probably take at least four hours to write. It's just the nature of things and business of late. Not sure why but the shops traffic has increased dramatically. It's a good thing, as Martha Stewart likes to say.

Our morning weather, this week, has been on the cool side. I really enjoy it. I've a habit, each morning, of jerking my first cup of coffee and taking it outside the shops back door under the oaks to soak in the peaceful atmosphere of squirrel play and birdsong. The fresh air adds flavor; perhaps that's why the first cup of coffee always taste best.  

Yesterday Little Bit made me promise to take her to Starbucks for breakfast. We chose this morning to do so. Inside she quickly discovered they only offered pastry. Their drink selections were, of course, limited. Finally, after making the folks behind us restless, she chose two tiny pink and chocolate doughnuts and a very small container of organic apple juice. She didn't like their limited breakfast menu. She looked at the cashier and told her, "Why don't you serve pancakes, this sucks."  Don't piss off little hungry girls...

I didn't say a word. I did chuckle.

We sat outside. It was cool. She didn't like that either. We gathered her 'breakfast' and drink and proceeded to my truck. She didn't like that one darn bit, either. Finally, "Papa, this was a very bad idea and don't you ever make me eat at Starbucks again."

I said, "Yes, Dear."  Sometimes the grass isn't always greener.

Last evening Sweet Wife came home with her laptop. Not a good sign. She gulped down our simple dinner and, without a word, set her laptop and two of our spare monitors on the kitchen table and didn't move until 0400 this morning. 

This doesn't bode well for the bond markets. Just saying....

Now, I've a request. SciFiChick, a lovely lady, needs help. Please, take a moment and click the link and run by and read her post. If you feel you can spare a few dollars, any amount will help, hit her donation button. I know times are hard and cash is very dear, but any amount towards the cause will be greatly appreciated. Even a kind comment and prayer will bring a little light into her life. Thank you.

Want to read a good book...I thought so. Then find a copy of 'Jesus Out to Sea,' by James Lee Burke. He's the dude in the above picture. James is probably the best prose stylist in America today. I don't care a bit for his politics, but none the less, the man can write. Jesus Out to Sea is a story collection, short stories that grip the gut. Trust me.

I'd link the book but haven't the time. The shop's bell rings and waits for no man.

Until then,

Stephen