Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Duluth Trading Firehose Pants Sale - For the thin or stubby types

Just a quick note for any stubby men or women - Duluth Trading has their famous Firehose pants on sale - they say they're defective but my pair are fine. They've only got 30/30, 32 & 34 and 36/28's so you'll have to be thin and tall or standard and short.

Search for part # 92204SEC and get a pair of pants that will last FOREVER for less than half the normal price. I'll be getting a few more if the stock holds out!

Tuesday, June 21, 2011


Like so many, I traveled on Sunday to make a visit that is not made often enough. My father isn't that far away, now - just a couple hours' drive - but I will admit we do not travel that road with the frequency I'd imagined when he moved to Texas. I think I'll be adding it to my calendar as a Must Do.

Someone brought all the old photos along which was very wise - the usual familial sqaubbling was avoided as we laughed at and talked about the old homes, antique clothes, and of how "gee, mom, you were PRETTY". Yeah. I smiled at that as my sister gasped in mock indignation.

My father watched us all, keeping up the conversation as is his skill - a raconteur of sorts and a natural showman. One could almost feel the cruel twist of time in his many more of these will he be allowed to see? How much longer can he continue with the small defribrillator maintaining his tick tocking? Its presence is always subtle but announced with every hug of his slender frame, that small, hard box just under his skin and always right where a daughter will place her hand to reach for a kiss. My flinch is unavoidable as I snatch my hand away, terrified the smallest pressure will be his undoing.

The photos of him in his youth were what captivated me. He was strong, a gymnast, and had that gruff Germanic nature that declared one must THINK, damn it. But it has always been muffled with that innate jester - the musician, the actor - that would prefer to play. No need to grow up, not just yet...and even with that tiny metronome in his chest ticking out his hours, he will still cling to those ways...

I looked at images like this one and wished I'd been born earlier in the pack, to have had more of him than I had before his Peter Pan needs supplanted that of fatherhood. He must have been quite the sight to my mother, small town creature that she was. How he must have stood like a tall wave pushing her to new shores...

No matter - I always knew. He gave me my words. He gave me my strength. He made me what I am even when he wasn't there. I owe him a great deal for that.

A long drive now and then seems a pittance against it.

Friday, June 17, 2011

Silver Whip

I have been pouting lately over the sad demise of my Explorer - it saw me through many a long road and is just a sentimental darling but...with something awry in the transmission it was time to let go.

And did I evah!

It's used and came from an engineer type with a meticulous little book of his maintenance. It made me feel immediately better about the purchase. He also added in a number of neat options (Hella lights, MP3 connection, iPhone dongle...)

I can finally cart both dogs around! For awhile, now, they've been homebound as only one could fit in the backseat of the truck. I'll have to find some good local water holes to let them swim in - the heat is a bit much for these spoiled inside types.

Cool pic, eh? Pretty sunset of pinks and purples gave the silver a mythic kind of glow - appropriate because it came with a name - one that made me grin and cheer, being a fan of the Scandihoovian archetypes - Thor.

I think its call sign will be The Hammer.

Crap - there I go grinning again.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Under The Influence

Just missing our friend. Brings out the melancholy.

There but for the grace of someone or something...

God Bless the Flyer

These days I have more time to myself, Trooper off on his new role standing guard as dark falls each night. I pack two meals, coolers full of chilly snacks to ease the heat of the duty. Alone, my thoughts turn eastward to the quiet of a ranch and just the songs in my head for company. But there's no going alone - rules and wise ones, true. So it's home and hiding in the shade.

Except that today my mind turns to the sky. No rain, none pending, and the ground cracking underfoot. Anything for a prominence and a breeze. Wings or no...

Sunday, June 05, 2011

Peaceful Labor

It was a rare night out for my stepdaughter, a Saturday in-town rather than at work. I think she is still becoming accustomed to the distances - that one cannot just take a quick drive to entertainments. It was a Greek meal out - a divine lamb chop, a savory beeftekee, and then off to stroll the promenade. But first...dessert.

Really very could taste the good vanilla in the cake and the frosting wasn't a shortening short-cut but full of butter. I slipped out the wee Kershaw Leek and cut it in half to the surprise of several in line. It was a snack I'd been wanting to try out for some time. But what the hell is the whole "fat free whip" addition about? I mean, you're shoving a cupcake in your face - what does full fat whipped cream do to make that worse?

We'd found some lovely apricots at the store and, since their season is brief, I decided I'd try to can them. It was a quiet afternoon's task - the blanching, slipping off the blushed skins - waterlogged fingers struggling with the slippery fruit. I enjoyed the solo work, ignoring everything but the process.

I think the hardest aspect is that the final product is so small for the labor involved. Just 4 pints of goodness for almost 2 hours of work. And who knows if they will pop their little tops and be safe come winter? A gamble...but I think it worthwhile. At worst we have a delicious topping for the yogurt or ice cream snacks to come. It is only my third attempt at canning but the're so delicate. I cannot wait to taste them, summer on my tongue...

Saturday, June 04, 2011

On Target

Damned proud of this - not the video skills of the beloved - but of hitting the 500 yard target twice, my first attempts at it. He's a great teacher...and it's a sweet shooting gun...

Friday, June 03, 2011

Female Shooters Getting A Pair

I am watching the debate-ish work going on here and here about the "good ol boy" nature of ranges and gun shops generated somewhat by some gunbunny bearers sighted at an event. Note: I adore each of them and their words. I think they are some of the smartest women out there.

I just happen to think they've strayed from the "sheesh, can't we just have some intelligent gun fun without the ubiquitous boobs?" sentiment toward the murky waters of "you menfolk change your ways so the more timid among us can be comfy, damn you!".

My comments on the former site were along the lines of, "if a woman is going to be put off by T&A, she isn't going to handle well a situation in which she will HAVE to shoot someone". And that is the serious bottom line, isn't it? Not just to make the whole gun shopping, purchasing and practicing more comfy - but to get women to just stop being so damned scared of everything!

The anarcho-capitalist in me just wants to wave a hand dismissively - start your own range/tea house if it pleases you or get your own FFL and cater to the breed. I think their intent is to make it more comfy for women to acquire and use guns, not demand that all masculine aspects related to same be removed. But if the coming Hard Times aren't enough to drive a woman into ANY range/shop and deal with it, then they will find themselves a going commodity when they cannot defend themselves.

I didn't have a shooter husband, I didn't have a gun, and I didn't know anyone who did, but I still managed to get my Mossberg 500. I cared about surviving. And you cannot load that into someone like a program - they either want to or not.

Hell, I cannot stand the attitudes exhibited in a local gun establishment. Yeah, not a lot of posters or moronic wanna-bes. But they are also chilly as hell if you don't look like a big sale. Frankly, I'll take a pudgy but interested host over that treatment any day. I am fortunate to have a more personal sales person to deal with these days and his FFL has nothing but love for me.

And perhaps this is what is missing from all the above - the personal touch. Perhaps they could offer themselves as consultants - $25/hr to find the best local shop, help them narrow down choices, and serve as a sounding board. Hell, get an FFL and offer that service, direct-like! Wouldn't that be a nice change? "B&T Guns and Holsters." Because there is a whole other industry to attack in that latter offering...

Wednesday, June 01, 2011

Clapping With Glee Like An Idiot

This is so well-written and with perfect clarity and brevity.

I adore her manner and think we'd do well chatting under Alaskan skies. Her posts make you feel as though you are doing just that. Well done. (And eternal thanks for doing all that reading for me...)

Another Wise Man

Breda posted a link (re: open carry) to the gentleman and there were a number of good things there. This was tasty. I am guilty of forgetting # 2/8 and need to get in the habit of putting a knife and fire in my pocket every morning.

It is always satisfying to find another good "read" that you haven't come across before. I'll be visiting there often, I think.