What came first? The gun or the holster?

Or maybe I should clarify. When you CC, what rig/holster/waistband/pocket/purse do you use? And did you pick your carry style to fit the gun, or the gun to match your carry style? And how many false starts did you have before you found what worked for you?

I ask because I’m curious how it compared to my experience. My first pistol was a .38 Special snubbie picked up cheap from a friend when I left an unpredictable relationship and happened to move in next to a guy who heard voices in his head and had a penchant for leaving long, rambling letters in mayonnaise jars on the front porch. He was quite nice to me, but rumor had it he ended up stabbing his brother in the gut. Apparently he was aiming for his mother. But, I digress.

Michael W. came up one weekend with a bunch of holsters and we spent part of the day establishing that due to the way I’m built, nothing that had anything to with carrying on a waistband worked for me. I’m 6’ tall, which you’d think would give me plenty of room, but I’m long of limb, and short of waist. When standing, my elbows rest below my waist - just about on my hip bones. Any holster worn in the vicinity of my waist is going to stick out at an angle and/or sit so high up in relation to my elbows, that the I have to bend in half to grab the grips. Well, that and the grips will be about 4" from my armpit. (Ask me how I know.) That pretty much left me with a shoulder rig as I’ve got plenty of arm length to reach across my front. (Yes, I’m aware of the drawbacks of reaching across to draw my weapon. Rule #3 is your friend.) And please don't suggest an ankle holster, because my pants aren't long enough to cover one. Especially when sitting. I’m a bit of a freak, I know.

Then there was the fact that it took me all of 30 seconds to decide I HATED that pistol (well the trigger anyway. It probably felt a lot like this one) so I decided to pretty much start over with a clean slate.

Luckily, I’m married to Shorter Half (a gun geek to end all gun geeks*) and we started with the hypotheticals. What size pistol? How many rounds vs. how much stopping power? Where am I going to carry this thing and how am I going to conceal it? How heavy does it have to be before I decide it’s not worth carrying? How expensive/available is the ammunition, and how heavy is it? Can I hold/carry/interact with Sweet Daughter while wearing this rig?

Then we went to the closest retail establishment with lots of dead animals hanging from the walls, and I started looking for a new pistol. And looking. Until I found something that purred when I picked it up. Because, if I don’t like the gun, I’m not going to carry it. And it works with a shoulder holster, which sits on the same side that I carry my purse, and tucks in nicely in the hollow of my waist.

I ended up with a Springfield XD in 9mm. With a Galco shoulder rig. And luckily I’m always cold, so a light jacket in the summer is par for the course for me anyway, which makes concealment easier.

So, what do you carry, and how did you chose?


*This is not to say that Shorter Half is the most knowledgeable gunnie out there (although if you count the sheer mass of mostly useless esoteric information he has between his ears, I’ll wager he’s near the top of the list), just the geekiest.

Are you nuts?

So, a coworker returned from business travel in Hawaii, and brought back something for us to try.

Spam Nuts

No, not tiny testicles off of the elusive, yet prolific wild Spam, but macadamia nuts coated in what tastes like Spam. They taste exactly like what you're thinking. There is a good review of them here. I’d add, however, that they are salty. Very salty. So salty, the spot where the nut hit my tongue is still shriveled up and desiccated like a raisin that’s been sitting on the floor of your car all summer with the windows rolled up and no air conditioning. And the Spam-like coating is sort of flesh-colored (if you are of northern european stock) which is a little off-putting. But they are definitely interesting.

A teaching moment

I was taking Sweet Daughter to daycare yesterday morning when I passed one our local boys in blue trying to catch speeders in a residential area. Well, boys in brown, actually. From the Sheriff’s office. I passed him, he swung around, lit me up, and SD said “Uh OH!!” (Apparently, she’s seen one too many episode of COPS as is evidenced by the time we drove past a shirtless, mullet-sporting guy in an older pick-up and she randomly asked “Mama – is that man going to jail?” We haven’t watched COPS since that day. But I digress.)

I said “Honey – it’s okay. He’s just pulling me over to tell me my headlight is out. Remember we noticed that coming home on Saturday?” I figured it was a really good teaching moment to reinforce that the police are (generally) good guys and they help people in trouble. I got the usual questions (license, registration, where are you going). I complied with paperwork and answered “To drop my daughter at daycare, and then go to work.” Apparently everything checked out – I was dressed for the office, SD had her backpack, and stuffed animal, and even with my NRA sticker and this on the back of the car

I was not deemed to be a threat to society and I was sent on my way with a “Make sure you get that fixed so you don’t hit a deer and get hurt!” Yay, no paperwork!

“See honey? He just wanted us to make sure we knew our headlight was out! He wanted us to be safe.” Teaching moment complete. Or so I thought.

When I got to the office I glanced in the back of the truck. I hadn’t finished unloading it after “Pirate Fest” on Saturday. Luckily, this is what the officer saw.

That's some sort of leather belt thing, a red jacket, some paper bags, a pair of buckle shoes, a decorative stick of some sort and some tie downs, right?

This is what he might have seen had the cruel finger of fate decided to flip me off and stuff wasn't covered.

Oh look! Brown paper bags, a pair of buckle shoes, a coat with a decidedly miltary feel to it, a fairly long sword and boarding axe???

Not that there is anything wrong with this … I’m sure it just would have made the morning more interesting than I really wanted it to be. And  I learned to look in the back of my car before I leave the house.

QOTD

While picking up my car from the shop today, I found out that my mechanic used to go hunting woodchucks with this guy. shared a few memories, including the time Bob came to pick up his truck while in uniform “with a Chesty Puller starter kit on his chest”.

I LOLed.

Pirate Fest (LOTS of pictures of the kid)

Held at Darnall's Chance in Upper Marlboro, MD, this was a fun thing to do with a 4 1/2-year-old. First she put her costume together, The only thing she wore today that she wears at events were her shoes. Ratty old shift? Check. Imported Indian calico headrag? Check. Ragged skirt AND fancy skirt? Check. Sword, hook, compass, spyglass and plenty of necklaces? Check, check, check, check and check. The most rightous piratical stockings ever? Aye, Matey!

She walked the plank, she swung in a hammock. She climbed up ...

over, and down the rigging.

She dug for burried treasure. She rolled a barrel through a fenced-in path, remembering to push on the right side to go left, and the left side to go right.

She earned coins for each task, and then traded them in for a key to break the secret code on the directions to find the secret treasure. We headed north for 25 paces. We turned west. We found more clues, we went hither and yon until she found the secret doorway and got her official pirate papers.

She was in a parade.

She fenced -- oddly enough, she is very left-hand dominant when it comes to writing and eating. But she bats and fences (and shoots) right handed.
 

This would be her Scots blood showing and she handles this thing like a broadsword.

She got to see the parrots and other birds.

Note: I do not like things that flutter. At all. I avoid butterflies, even. When the bird flew off her head TOWARDS ME, I'm sure I looked startled, to say the least. But I did NOT jump, or scream, DFO, snatch my darling child to my bosum and flee, or any of the other things that flew (hahahahah) through my mind. Yay me.

She checked out the pillory. And looked like she was plotting.

She got a drink. Because that's all there was. That and snowcones and popcorn. The food vendor decided not to show. Good thing she was too busy to realize she was hungy.

And, she entered the costume contest. They were interviewed, demonstrated their pirate walk, and were then ranked by applause. Well, she made the final 5, but one parent can only whoop and holler so loud, and when other contestes have more family in the audience ...she didn't make the final three.

Here she is during the interview. The MC asked her what happened to her hand. She was quick to explain that nothing was wrong with her hand -- it was just a costume. Really. She was fine. Please don't worry. It's okay. Costume, see?

I tried to remind her how we'd talked about the fun part was putting the costume together, but she wasn't buying it. She KNEW her costume was better than the rest. I chalked it up to a good lesson in "Life's not fair, so suck it up, Cupcake" and started to procede along those lines, when a couple of the judges came over looking sheepish. They knew that the results didn't reflect the best costume, just the loudest supporters. So, the MC donated a copy of a children's book he'd written (Broadside Ben and the Big Brass Cannon by Cliff Long), and was kind enough to autograph it. (BTW, the book is a hoot. The Dutch ships are flying pennants with tulips on them, for starters.)

All in all an excellent if exhausting day. I think we'll go back next year.

"Mama - This bird isn't going potty on my head, is he?"

Belay the strawberry pickin’!

Plans for tomorrow included going to a pick-you-own-strawberries place with Sweet Daughter. That was until my boss told me that he’ll be at a historic site tomorrow where they’re having “Pirate Day” for the kids. He’s teaching fencing, and there will be face painting and a treasure hunt, birds to sit on your shoulder and a costume contest, vendors, food, etc. I asked SW which she’d like to do, and her face lit up as she decided the strawberries could wait another week.

We spent the evening trying to put costumes together for tomorrow. We started with our 18th century event clothes, and added and subtracted from there. SD was given a set of pirate accessories from Michael W., so we dug out the plastic hook, spyglass, compass and sword. She’s got bling, she’s got purple and green striped stockings, she’s READY.

I had no idea what to put together for myself, because the Renn-Faire Pyrate Wench thing is so NOT happening at a kid’s event. However, while mulling ideas over with my boss, I apparently said “Hey! I’ve got a BOARDING AXE!” with the same inflection that an 8-year-old girl would use to say “Santa brought ME a PONY!"

Chalk another one up to “I’m not like other moms …”

Foster care

Look what followed Shorter Half home. He says we can't keep it, but we can foster it for a couple of weeks. I'll get more pictues later -- maybe I can take it out for some "exercise" ...