Firelock update

Clothing (that fits!) done? Check.

Supplies inventoried, procured, and cartridge production begun? Check.

Stuck musket ball removed from musket barrel? Check.

Inside of a musket lock

Organizers of the umbrella organization contacted the participants a couple of days ago to let us know that the state of Maryland had updated its black power regulations in 2011 … and they weren’t compatible with the rules of the umbrella organization. (Yes. They figured this out a week before the event.) They thought they had a work-around, but concluded yesterday that there was no way a compromise could be reached, mostly because one group says aluminum foil cartridges are mandatory for live rounds, and the other group forbids aluminum foil cartridges for live rounds.

So, of course, I put 10 shots on paper at 10 yards today that looked like this:

10 rounds on paper. See the one in the middle? Second from the left? Two rounds in that hole.
 

Yes, I realize this in only 10 yards and not 25, but pffft.

Movie night

Sweet Daughter and I were watching Moulan tonight, and SD was having a very difficult time wrapping her head around a different time and culture that didn't value intelligent women.

"Why does somebody else choose her husband? Why is she wearing that white make-up? Why weren't women allowed to be in the army? Why are they going to execute her when she's such a good soldier? Why don't they use common sense?"

Righteously indignant didn't even begin to cover it.

And unfortunately, I had to tell her that common sense was still in awfully short supply, even today.

Linen outfit jacket and petticoat

Photos courtesy of Sweet Daughter.

Here's the blue linen outfit fashioned from the maternity outfit. Here's it's worn without stays (shocking, I know). Plans are to wear this to the Firelock Match if I get there (long story). The first time I participated, I wore stays, and I ended up feeling like I had whiplash. My guess is that my torso remained pretty much immobile as a result, and my neck took up all the recoil.



I'm hoping I can get the back to fit a bit better -- maybe with stays.

I'll be able to wear this with stays, too, and can upgrade it with a nicer apron and neck handkerchief. Looks like a good outfit for Williamsburg in the dog days of summer. Now I just need a straw hat to go with it.

 

The important part is that I can move my arms well enough to shoot.

 

My next opus

I think the next big sewing project for me is going to be this.

The Ladies Shooting Poney by John Collet

Weekend

This weekend consisted of lots of random stuff, but I got a surprisingly amount accomplished.

On Friday night I started altering and 18^th century jacket and petticoat that had started out life as a maternity outfit, based on this at Colonial Williamsburg, but in navy linen. The idea was that a stomacher could fill in the expanding front, and it would lace shut again after pregnancy.

Image courtesy of Colonial Williamsburg, found here.

 

I was overly optimistic 9 years ago when I started this. I underestimated how much things widen, and I don’t just mean the waistline. So Friday night saw me letting out the vertical seams and telling myself that the sleeves were now just fashionably snug. On Saturday, I got the petticoat hemmed and the front panel shortened (now that there wasn’t a pregnant belly to cover) and on Sunday I put the hook and eye closures in. Pictures will follow once I get the sleeve ruffles made and attached.

Saturday also saw a whole lot of yard work going on. Clearly, I need a case in remedial weed whacking as I’m not very good at it. I’m blaming the fact that I’m too tall to hold the base parallel to the ground. That’s my story, anyway.

On Sunday, I got up and ran to the local hardware store (well, "ran" after breakfast and coffee) where I purchased 2” x 4”s so I could build some shelves for my sewing room. Holy crap, when did dimensional lumber get so darned expensive? Granted, these are excellent quality with unusually few knots, but pricier than I was expecting. Even with having to trim every single piece, it was still a quick build which left me time for laundry. All the winter bedding got washed and just needs a clean tote so I can put it all away on the new shelves.

As a dear friend would say "Good enough for who it's for."

The strangest part of the weekend? I used the push mower, the riding mower, the string trimmer, a hedge trimmer, various hot and/or pointy kitchen implements, a battery charger, a trim saw, a drill and made countless trips up and down a ladder, and the thing that beat me up the most was that string trimmer.

 

I see shin guards in my future.

I feel like such a slacker in my research methods now

"Tim Jenison, a Texas-based inventor, attempts to solve one of the greatest mysteries in the art world: 
How did Dutch master Johannes Vermeer manage to paint so photo-realistically 150 years before the invention of photography? Here's how he conducted his experiment."

Go here to read about it.

Of course, he cheated with a milling machine instead of using a period lathe.

I kid! I kid!

Anyhow, it's interesting to see the experimental archeology process he used.

Two more days

Two more days of school, and Sweet Daughter is at her wits end. Routine and discipline have gone out the window and she’s a mite frustrated. The standardized tests were over with last week. All the snow days we had this winter meant that all the half and full “teacher’s work days” were canceled so that students could make up their time. Teachers are juggling end of year paperwork and rooms full of restless kids. Attention spans are getting shorter and the days seem longer.

The last school assembly was Monday and SD was awarded a reading award medal, and another for making the Distinguished Honor Roll all year. She proudly wore them to school the next day. Today they baked in the sun for “Field Day”. Tomorrow they are to take a game in to play. SD’s taking a book.  

Two more days … and then it’s time to introduce SD to some classic rock.

I was a little older than SD when this came out.

And then on Monday, we get to start summer day camp. Hopefully a change in venue this year will be an improvement.

Looks like I have some reading to do.

In the car, near the end of a two hour drive …

Sweet Daughter: Mom? What’s a “harlot”?

Me: It’s a girl who tries to steal somebody’s boyfriend.

SD: What’s a “bimbo”?

Me: A girl who is usually considered pretty but is either dumb, or pretends to be, so she can get a boyfriend who doesn’t appreciate smart girls.

SD: What’s a “floozy”?

Me: A girl with low standards who will do almost anything to get a boyfriend.

Me:  …….

Me: !!!!

Me: WHAT are you reading, anyway???

 

(It's *The Land of Stories, The Wishing Spell")

 

I got nuthin'

Sweet Daughter was running a fever last night, and so she stayed home from school today. I got nuthin', so watch the border closing ceremony betweeen India and Paskistan.

Marvel and the pomp and circumstance. Sit in awe of the drill and ceremony.

The people you meet

Sweet Daughter asked me to chaperone her 3^rd grade field trip to a state park today. I was fortunate that in my group of 4 kids, the “special needs” had his own family member show up to keep an eye on him. This person had never chaperoned a field trip before and ended up sitting next to me on the school bus. Turned out to be a former army MP. We started comparing our EDC knives and flashlights. Talked about our carry guns and how nice it was to find somebody else who thought a knife was as necessary as underwear.

She was awesome. She even brought beef jerky.

I had this dream ...

I was riding shotgun with Murphy’s Law who had picked me up at the airport -- somewhere in the southwest, judging by the landscape and climate. Murphy and Belle were in the back seat, hanging on for dear life with resigned looks on their faces that read “Don’t worry … you get used to it.” (You see, I’d been told in real life by somebody who has ridden with him that Murphy is, um, a bit of an impatient driver …)

 

Anyhow, I was hanging on to the Jesus handle with both hands as Murphy proceeded to dart around and through inconvenient traffic at a rather productive rate of speed until he dropped me off in front of a shopping mall. MSgt B was waiting at the door to intercept me, and we took off through the mall at a power walk. I was dressed in my office clothes consisting of a skirt and heels, and he was in well-used coveralls and boots, and I was simply trying to keep up.

 

Nothing was said, but MSgt B stopped at every little kiosk and demo in the mall to fill up with complimentary coffee from dozens of little Keurig machines. We circled through the mall until we got back to the door where I entered. MSgt B was fairly vibrating with caffeine at this point. I asked him what was up with all the walking and the coffee. He nodded towards the parking lot and said “To deal with that. Get ready – we’re heading to the truck.”

 

As we stepped through the doors, I could see a dozen or so guys heading towards us, all with switchblades. I muttered “I got your six” while I readied my purse to use as a melee weapon. At this point I noticed the attackers were all wearing blue or red satin baseball jackets as they sped towards us, running with unusual grace while executing grand jetés every few steps, still waving their blades. I asked “Why the h@!! didn’t Murphy just drop my off at your d@#% truck in the first place?”

 

At which point my brain couldn’t suspend disbelief any longer and woke me up.

 

 

Do It Yourself …

I was diagnosed with spinal stenosis some time ago. My doctor thought it might be bilateral sciatica, but no. It’s just my spine squeezing and causing some numbness in the feet, and other “discomfort” in my back, butt and legs. Stretching helped but, but it was an every day thing, with some days better or worse than others.

Fast forward to last February. I was carrying a load of laundry down the stairs and when I was two stairs from the bottom I, for lack of a better description, fell off the stairs. I don’t know if I tripped, or caught my foot, or just put a foot down wrong, but I landed in a heap with a twisted ankle at the bottom of the stairs. This was one of those where your brain says “GET UP NOW” while the adrenaline was flowing, so I got up. The ankle hurt, and was sore, but I could walk on it. Nothing crunched, or felt like I was getting stabbed, or collapsed. As a matter of fact, the more I walked on it, the better if felt. Ibuprophen, elevation, and a beer also helped.

The next day I wrapped it and spent the day at a gun show. Other than swelling, and a little bruising, it was just sore, and each day it was measurably better.

Why do I bring this up? Ever since falling off the stairs, my back has been pretty much fine. Still a little stiffness at the base of my spine, and I still have some numbness in my feet, but this is the best my back has felt since I started paying attention to it. I don’t sit with one foot tucked under my butt anymore and long car trips don’t make my butt go numb.

I certainly don’t advocate DIY chiropractic, and I realize how very lucky I was, but I’d go through that to fix my back again in a heartbeat.

The song remains the same

A year ago today, I was asking my houseguests to please pee in the bushes and wash up with the hose because I had water pouring out of my A/C air handler and I didn’t know where it was coming from. It’s odd what sticks in one’s memory. It’s also a testament of my friends that they didn’t even blink and got with the program until I could get a plumber that didn’t want a minimum of $700 to snake my cleanout.

This week, however, found me running out to get gas for the mower, so I could come home and mow. Which I tried to do -- I backed the riding mower out of the shed and it quit so I finished mowing with the push mower. The next day, I was at the hardware store, and went to pay only to find … no bank card. I searched my wallet. Checked my bank account for fraudulent activity. Cleaned out my purse and my car. Nothing. Thinking I might have stuffed it in my pocket when I went to get gas, I checked my pants. Nada. I scoured the lawn, thinking it might have fallen out of said pocket while I finished mowing. I went to the gas station to see if someone had found it and turned it in. Lather, rinse, repeat.

On my third trip through the yard I saw a small piece of something white. Closer examination found some more pieces.

No shredder? No problem!

 Yes, it fell out of my pocket and the riding mower ate it before giving up the ghost. The woman at the credit union said she’d never seen anything like it. At least I had proof that the card was still in my possession and hadn’t been stolen. Now I just have to wait for the replacement card.

Maybe I should stop at 50

I am pretty much a thrifty (okay, “cheap”) person in that I shop for deals, eat what’s on sale at the grocery store on any given week, make, mend or fix whatever is possible for me to make, mend or fix -- except in a few areas. One is pants. If I can find pants that fit, what I consider a “reasonable” price point suddenly increases. Considering I’ve never found pants that actually fit, I have no idea what that price point is.

Another area is quality polarized sunglasses. This might have something to do with the fact that I walked around during 5^th and 6^th grade looking perpetually stoned because my mother signed me up for some experimental treatment that consisted of me dilating my eyes every single night before bed. This was supposed to prevent astigmatism (or at least slow it down, or something), but needless to say, I did not wear sunglasses when I went outside and I have no idea what, if any, damage was done by walking around with my eyes dilated for a couple of years.

Anyhow, I decided to splurge and buy myself some new sunglasses for my birthday. My current pair is five years old, and the reflective coating has cracked on them. I shopped around, found the best deal, waited a week for them to get here, and then found then sent the non-polarized version.

This seems to continue a theme this week. Anonymous very generously sent me some awesome Zombie Stomper platform shoes with a 5” heel to keep my Werewolf shoes company. This is what showed up.

 Maybe this is a hint that I should stop having birthdays and just quit at 50.

 

Back in the saddle

So in the interest of finding something to blog about, push my comfort level, and just generally get some exercise - even if it’s in futility, I’ve managed to get myself talked into participating in a Firelock Match as sponsored by one of my Rev War groups at the end of June.

I signed up for muskets at 25, 35 and 50 yards.  They claim it’s not a competitive event, but simply for the enjoyment of live fire. HOWEVER they will be keeping score for those who wish to “compete”. Right. No competition. I don’t believe that for a second.

Tonight I took inventory of my supplies, and decided it was time to get my ducks in a row. Better late than never, I guess. This weekend, I’ll be filing sprues off my musket balls. I sure wish Hornandy made them in Brown Bess size.

Help a brother out ...

My buddy MSgt B needs assistance with helping his best friend find out who murdered said best friend's son, Kyle.  Details here.

I don't usually link this kind of thing, but MSgt B is a stand-up guy, and if he says this is a worthy cause, I believe him. Also, when he worked just over the river from my office, we met for lunch a couple of times. Just his gaze rendered me unable to park my car for some reason. If his steely gaze could cause me to forget how to successfully pull into a parking place after doing so for almost 35 years,  I know if I were a bad guy, I'd want the local constabulary to find me before MSgt B.

I know, I know.

I know I fell off the face of the earth. Tons of little things just ate away at my will to blog. For starters, my computer. The one that died. Well, the screen did. The info is still on it, just really hard to get to, and next to impossible to see.

 

A coworker very kindly gave me an old laptop. A Dell Latitude D510. It runs Vista, when it's not seizing up on a whim. I should start tracking the problems along with the phases of the moon, because I can't figure out what causing it to lock up. It will randomly put me in virtual time-out ... and then BEEP! On we go again. Lather, rinse, repeat.

 

Let's see ... then last fall we had an 18th century birthday party for Sweet Daughter, and there was a lot of sewing going on. Lots. I think my Blog Muse got jealous of the Sewing Muse and left. And now they're both gone.

 

I've made a stab at cleaning out the garage this winter and made enough progress to get the car in the garage. Just in time for the cold snap a couple of weeks ago. I am trying very, very hard not to feel smug, lest stuff starts randomly falling off shelves and breaking my windshield.

I had a stretch of unbelievable baking failures, so I guess my Cooking Muse went off with the other two. SD, however, mixed up a batch of scones all by herself while I was running errands one day, and they were WONDERFUL. So maybe the Cooking Muse just switched hosts.

 

This weekend I'm attending the NoVaWinter Blogmeet. I'm looking forward to seeing old friends and meeting some new ones I'm hoping to see some of you there.

 

And next week, I get to go in for a colonoscopy. Apparently there is a shortage of MoviPrep and so I get to try something new. I don't even want to begin to fathom the reasons there would be a shortage of anything that scours one out so thoroughly. And abruptly.

 

PIRATEHAWK! AAR

It  was wet, but at least the risk of fire was just about non-existent.

Dr. Mike showed up Thursday. JayG, Brad and Mike W. all showed up Friday night. There was hot buttered rum and Dr. Mike’s homemade enchiladas for the latecomers. Saturday dawned … wet. Stretch, Keads, Greg (a reader of Tam’s), Andy (of the Hoplorati hats) and a former coworker of mine I hadn’t seen in 14 years and two of her kids showed up Saturday morning. We trekked over to Geodkyt’s where we set up and got a safety briefing and a history lesson.


Real men don't use fuses. They use primer and slow match.

We started out with JayG’s  hand gonne. And we told him what we thought of his fuses. After that, Dr. Mike went through the basic evolution and progression of firelocks and let us shoot them.

Dr. Mike in full sailor/pirate kit, returning the rammer on ... something.

I lost track of them all. There was a cut down Brown Bess, and a Jaeger, and a blunderbuss, and something with a 47-lb trigger pull. Then there were pistols. And, yes. There is something strangely poetic about using IDPA targets with flintlocks



See how Dr. Mike has his hand out to help this young lady with the recoil? We neglected to tell him she's on a rifle team.*

 This is her brother. Apparently he found both the history lesson and the guns interesting. This was a first.

 Sweet Daughter wanted to try the blunderbuss. She got smacked a bit by the recoil, even with me holding the thing. She sucked it up, though, and asked if she could shoot Stretch's .22s.

That is one well-ventilated target. And it turns out she preferred the iron sights to the red dot. Thanks, Stretch, for the lesson!

Due to rain slowing things down, we didn't really get to the competition part. Nobody seemed to mind much, and the prize table (Hoplorati hats! Bacon!) was distributed by drawing names. There was lots of good food, even better company, and a definite desire to do this again. Dr. Mike already has plans to do this with cap and ball weapons.

Somebody gave their hoplorati hat to Sweet Daughter, who is beyond thrilled. She wears it to the bus stop every morning.

Thanks to all who made the trek in spite of the rain, especially Dr. Mike who supplied the weapons, ball and powder. I can't wait to do it again -- hopefully without the rain.


*Stretch - that might also be why she shot the hell out of your .22.

Flintlock 3-gun Update

Well, it’s raining. And that’s good from a fire safety standpoint, right? The current weather report is calling for the rain to stop around 9;00 tomorrow morning, and then leave us with some drizzle. JayG is bringing a canopy to help keep the guns dry. I know there are people already en route to this shindig, so it’s not getting called off.

Best case? We shoot when we can, and have a good time. (If you’re coming, you may want to bring something modern, and less finicky to shoot in case it does keep raining.)

Worst case? We have an all-day blog breakfast/lunch/dinner. I can think of worse ways to spend a weekend.

Flintlock 3-Gun NEXT WEEK!

If all goes as planned (HAHAHAHAHAHAH), we are on track to host an introduction to flintlocks, followed up by some manner of competition using pistols, muskets and a scattergun. This will take place next Saturday, October 12, starting around 10:00 or so. Dr. Mike ("Cutler to the Stars!") has been hoarding black powder, and casting lead ball all summer and is volunteering to provide all the materials needed.

If you were at the KidShoot in June, you know the location. If you weren't, we're located about 30 miles east of Fredericksburg, VA.

The plan is to start around 10:00 with an introduction to flintlocks and let everybody get a feel for them. After a lunch break, we'll get going with the "competition". I understand Broken Andy is bringing some Hoplorati hats for the prize table. JayG is also making an appearance and will be dressed as a Pirate Wench at some point during the weekend to fulfill his KTKC obligation.

Why pirate wench you ask? Well, because we've been calling this PIRATEHAWK! amongst ourselves. We may even have a prize for best pirate costume.

Anyhow ... after all is said and done and guns are clean, we're heading to the local Italian place we went to in June for dinner, then back to my house for rum punch around the firepit. For those staying in town, there will be a brunch here Sunday morning if you want to hang out and visit before hitting the road. Also, I have unearthed the 36-cup coffee maker.

The current weather forecast is calling for mid 70s and sunny, so if you're interested, drop me an email at dethosp AT gmail etc. and I'll get you the details.