Shotgun fun

We took the Mossberg over to The-Friends-with-75-Acres house today to see how it shot, and so I could lose my shotgun virginity. Shorter Half measured the maximum distance in our house between the end of the hall by the bedrooms and the entry near the front hall, and paced off the distance when we got the range. At that distance (a little over 30 feet, if I remember correctly) without sights, the Mossberg shot a little high. Like maybe a hand-span. Not enough to worry about, I don't think. I did notice more decided kick than I'm used to (yes, compared to my Brown Bess …), so I think a recoil pad is in order. Oddly enough, my shoulder isn’t bothering me tonight, but the right side of my jaw is.

I also got to shoot a Remington 12 gauge. That was a slick little gun, but I like the controls on the Mossberg better.

We also did a reactive target demo for Sweet Daughter to show her what happens if you shoot something filled with a liquid … like the Big Bad Wolf.

First the soda can.

Then the gallon jug of water.

Then the TFW75A’s son shot another jug. Sorry that I moved, but you can see the water just starting to spray out.

What is "accomplished"?

In Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice”, Miss Bingley makes the observation that (for the early 19th century):

"No one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved."

"All this she must possess," added Darcy, "and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading."

Joe Huffman follows the same train of thought, starting by talking about calipers and then segues into Jeff Cooper:

Before the young man leaves home, there are certain things he should know and certain skills he should acquire, apart from any state-sponsored activity. Certainly the youngster should be taught to swim, strongly and safely, at distance. And young people of either sex should be taught to drive a motor vehicle, and if at all possible, how to fly a light airplane. I believe a youngster should be taught the rudiments of hand-to-hand combat, unarmed, together with basic survival skills. The list is long, but it is a parent's duty to make sure that the child does not go forth into the world helpless in the face of its perils. Shooting, of course, is our business, and shooting should not be left up to the state.

Austen may seem silly compared to Cooper, but if a parent’s duty is to make sure their children are prepared to face the perils of the world, then Austen’s definition certainly made it more likely for a woman to “marry well” which was sort of the same thing at the time.

Considering "and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading" is a given, what do you consider an essential skill to be considered one who greatly surpasses what is usually met with?

Jane Austen's Fight Club

H/T to The Clue Meter.

Bifocals

While waiting for my bifocals (thanks, Ben Franklin!) to get made, I got a trial pair of multifocal contacts. Not the monovision, with one eye used for distance, and one eye used for reading (what if my dominant eye was my distance eye? That would make using sights a bit of a challenge), but actual lenses for near and far vision. I don’t know what I was expecting exactly. I know I was expecting points between “near” and “far” to be weird, but let me just say, wow! What a pleasant surprise.

The eye doctor pretty much told me I got to pick where I wanted my near vision to focus, I chose reading distance instead of computer distance. I’d rather wear reading glasses while sitting from of the computer than have to fumble for them every time I want to read a label in the grocery store, or thread a needle. With the trial pair I have in right now, I actually read the local paper tonight in low light with no problem. I read the fine print on a coupon. The computer is a bit fuzzy, but not enough to be a problem for short periods of time.

This type of lens is supposed to be tricky to prescribe and may take six weeks to get used to, but I have to say I’m seeing better with these than the regular lenses I was wearing this morning. I haven’t had a chance to try them at night to see glare, shadows and hazy vision is a problem.

What I haven’t done is check the price on them. The sticker shock on the bifocal glasses was a bit of a surprise, so I’m sure these will be similar in gouge-factor, but I’m thinking they might just be worth it.

Can anyone read this?

Michael W. received this lovely piece of Japanese art from this gentleman.

Can anyone translate for him? It was picked up (out of a trench, is that right, Mike?) in Japan during WWII.

Robert W. Snyder, Jr., 1947 - 2010

Robert W. Snyder, Jr., thank you for your service to our county. His obituary is here, please go read the whole thing. The tributes left on the guest book are also worth a look.

Blog-roll update

Wow. I’m really behind on adding people, and honestly, I don’t know where some of you are coming from. Maybe I should rephrase that to wonder why the tens of you are stopping by, unless it’s just out of sheer curiosity to see what tangent I’m taking this week. Not that I’m complaining, and I’m not fishing for reassurances, but as an unpopular kid growing up, I find it amusing that people stop by on purpose, and it’s not to try to T.P. my dad’s trees.

First of all, I am very remiss in not adding bluesun at Dead Man Dance sooner. He’s been commenting since the beginning, and has stuck with me from bayoneting pot roasts to making 18th century gingerbread to listening to me (of all newbies!) offer thoughts on carrying a concealed pistol.

I’ve added Daddy Bear’s Den with whom I have that whole “middle-aged parent” thing going on, and The Clue Meter.

Ah, and the Blazing Orange. He was one of the first bloggers I met in Charlotte before the “Agh! Too many people for me to remember!” thing hit. I know he can pick me out of a police line-up because he and Caleb were standing back-to-back checking out who was taller, just as I stood up from behind the table and tried to scoot past them. It was kind of funny, at least from my perspective, but maybe you had to be there. (And no, I’m not really 7 feet tall. Stop spreading rumors, JayG!)

Anyhow, if for some odd reason you link to this foolishness, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours let me know and I’ll reciprocate. Unless you creep me out, or something.

Three and a half months late

BAG Day. Buy a gun day.

Shorter Half just returned from The Nation's Gun Show.

He showed amazing restraint when he bypassed a Garand and an M14. Instead, he picked up a Mossberg 500. We didn’t have a shotgun, and now we do.

One reason we didn’t have one before now was because I refused to have a Chinese made one in the house. I won’t pay money to the Chinese army.

The first thing I made SH do was run upstairs to show it to Sweet Daughter who was trying to fall asleep. “See? We've got a new gun to keep us safe from the Big Bad Wolf!” He knelt outside her room, aimed down the stairs towards the front hallway, and pumped the slide. SD daughter positively cackled.

I like the safety on the top of the wrist which makes it ambidextrous. I like the lack of sights to distract me. (How do I use those again? *grin*) I did ask SH if we could put a laser sight on it -- I told him I want to put a red spot where I want the red hole to go.

I've never fired a shotgun before, but it seems very intuitive to use. I can’t wait to take it out and make it go “blammo!” Bring on the zombies!

Good day

I found a copy of this engraving at a local antique store today. It turns out that Paul Revere plagiarized it, and that the original artist, Henry Pelham, was not amused.

And I just finished a pint of Bellhaven Wee Heavy Scottish Ale. Shorter Half brought it home after one of his WWII events, and wow. I have a new favorite brew.

Queen of the sky

During WWII, my dad was a bombardier on a B-17 (I believe it was a B-17G), the Stars and Stripes. I don’t know much about what he did – he’s talked about it more with others than with me, but I know that he bombed Germany, and I know he and his whole crew completed their 30 missions successfully. While visiting last week, there was a B-17G at the local airport for 2 days, and the crew called my dad as asked if he would like to come out for a visit. At 94, my dad’s mind is still as sharp as a tack, but his knees aren’t so good, and 25 years of smoking when he was younger have caught up with his lungs. Unfortunately, he had to decline.

A couple of days later, we took Sweet Daughter to a park to do some kid stuff, instead of all that boring grown-up talking, and I heard a very distinctive growly rumbly hum. Once you’ve heard it, you can’t possibly mistake it for anything else. I looked up, and there she was, the Aluminum Overcast, the Queen of the Sky.

Bad taste?

While visiting in the mid-west last week, we took a side-trip to the Hormel Spam museum. It’s a really nice place. It was bright and shiny. It was kitschy. They spared no expense (which they apparently try to recoup soley through the gift shop.)

We checked out the Cyber Diner and played Spamalot.
We watched a movie about the Hormel Girls, and actually saw handful of them tucked away in a back room, apparently there for a reunion of sorts.

All was going well – Sweet Daughter was busy trying to stuff six empty cans with bean bags representing Spam, then putting on lids, “heat” processing them, and labeling them (all while being timed) when an older gentleman came through with a tray of “Spam with cheese” samples. I took one when offered, and when he asked SD if she wanted one, she replied “No, thank you.” as she continued to stuff cans with faux Spam.

His response? “That’s un-American!” he sputtered in a disapproving tone.

My response? “At least she’s got good manners!”, while giving him a modified version of my “eat flaming hot death” look.

And that left a bad taste in my mouth.

A different burger

I thought I’d try a new recipe I found for burgers tonight. Shorter Half prefers meat on his plate, and looks askance at most things in a vegetable state. He thinks anything with a root system would be be better utilized as bait for catching real food.

The burger itself was basically half sweet Italian sausage and half ground round with finely chopped apple mixed in as if you were making meat loaf. The recipe said to top the grilled burger with bacon, thin slices of apple and a dressing (sauce? topping? condiment?) made of mayonnaise, Dijon mustard and honey. I added sharp cheddar and some grilled onions to the list of extra toppings. Once Shorter Half’s brain adjusted to the new combination of flavors, he went back for more. (YAY! Something new to add to the dinner rotation.)

This was definitely “AOS” which means it didn’t suck, or as we say, has an “Absence Of Suck”. Remember folks, you heard it here first.

Oh, and that "Are you a hippe?" thing that's going around?

You are -0% hippie.

Ok, you conservative soul. Do you even believe in global warming? Loosen that necktie a little, and try some organic food. It actually does taste better. And go to a farmer's market--they're fun.

Are you a hippie?
Take More Quizzes

Had to share

A good friend of mine (and a loyal lurker) occasionally sends me stuff her brother says. I keep telling her she has to get him to start his own blog. Today’s comment was:

“I thought the asinine uselessness of this administration had reached ‘8’, but I was holding the report sideways.”

Home again, home again, jiggity jig.

It’s been a long 5 days with lots of mileage. No TSA scanners were involved at either end of the trip, and that made me happy. I’m pretty sure I lost my glasses (the ones I use to see to get from the bathroom when I take my contacts out to get wherever I’m going – like bed) at the first TSA checkpoint when I was removing my quart bag of liquids from my carry-on. That does not make me happy, but I figure I’m long overdue for (oh, I don’t want to type this out loud) bifocals. It’s cumbersome reading at night with reading glasses OVER the regular glasses. 

Sweet Daughter was an absolute joy to travel with. There was minimal complaining (“Can we go now??”) and no whining what-so-ever. Well that, and she decided she was going to try to thank each and every “Camouflage Guy” she saw in the airport.

More later when I’ve had some sleep, and food that hasn’t been scavenged from SD’s leftovers.

37

We average 37 days at or above 90 degrees each year. We hit that mark already today, and summer has been here less than a month.

Other randomness … Sweet Daughter has had a stuffy nose and sore throat for about 10 days now. The strep test came back negative, so the doctor suggested I try allergy medicine at bedtime. That sent her into orbit last night (you bet your sweet bippy it was “non-drowsy”) AND it didn’t work, and Tylenol Cold medicine has been recalled. Did I mention we’re getting on an airplane in less than 40 hours? Cold and/or allergy medicine comes in 4 oz. bottles. 18 mL more than allowed by the TSA. Tomorrow I go in search of something in a non-liquid form.

As I’m scurrying around packing, I notice that Shorter Half is watching something on TV involving plane crashes. After looking at the TV with a picture of an airplane in descent with its back half on fire, I looked pointedly at SH and said “That plane there – it landed safely and everyone lived, RIGHT?” He concurred without looking me in the eye, and I left the room and went back to packing.

The bag I used to use for my over-sized purse/diaper bag/etc. when flying got converted to my range bag. It’s great – it’s got lots of pockets and it’s doesn’t scream “GUNS! I’ve got GUNS!” Now I know that people have tried to get the attention of the TSA by taking just such a bag through security and have failed to raise so much as an eyebrow. I, on the other hand, do not wish to draw any untoward attention to myself, and so had to find a new bag.

I won’t be back until early next week, and will be without computer access (for the dozen of you that stop by) until then. Wish me luck and hope for clear skies. SD is looking forward to flying through the clouds so she can finally prove to me for once and for all that Care Bears really exist.

Sigh.

That smarts.

LawDog has and interesting link posted–


I Write Like

For grins, I plugged in my “Camouflage People” post and got:

Stephenie Meyer

Just. Shoot. Me. Now.

I'll have to work on that.

18th-Century Ship Found at Trade Center Site

By Wednesday, the outlines made it plain: a 30-foot length of a wood-hulled vessel had been discovered about 20 to 30 feet below street level on the World Trade Center site, the first such large-scale archaeological find along the Manhattan waterfront since 1982, when an 18th-century cargo ship came to light at 175 Water Street.

Quick update

Day 3 of the audit. One more to go. Yay.

The beach was mostly lovely. Except for the idiots that lifted the jelly-fish netting. Repeatedly. It seems they were looking for something that lived in the bay, because they had a plastic bag with about 12 oz. of water in it, and something that they gleaned from the bay side of the netting (that HAD been doing a dandy job of keeping the jelly-fish out of the swimming area) and they kept peering at their catch. Whatever it was. These were adults, too. So we had an hour or so of jelly-fish hunting to do before we were comfortable going back in the water.

Product rave: One application of Aveeno 100 sunblock on Sweet Daughter meant she got to spend six hours playing in the sun and in the water and the only part that got red was the part in her hair. AWESOME stuff.

And six hours of sun and sand meant I got this on the way home. “Mama. I wasn’t sleeping. I was resting my eyes.”

"Of course you were, honey."

Life's a bit.., er, beach

Content has been low lately because I've been getting ready for an audit-from-hell at work. It was supposed to start next Tuesday, but got bumped up to Monday. Shorter Half is out of town this weekend, so Sweet Daughter and I spent half the day in the office yesterday, and the rest of the day doing errands.

Today, we are going to the beach. It's a small beach in Maryland, about an hour away, but it's got a fenced and netted swimming area to keep the jellyfish out, and restrooms. I simply buckle the life jacket on SD, dump out her bag of sand toys, and turn her loose while I try to review procedures. She might as well have some fun while I'm freaking out.

Time to pack the cooler and the sunblock and head out.

Obama Facts

Go visit Michael W. for more like this:

When Obama fixes his gaze on the clouds, he is reading his next great line from the big teleprompter in the sky, which is unseen to ordinary humans.