And Sarah Brady weeps bitter tears

We got to ring in the New Year in North Carolina with Michael W. (and his lovely wife) from Doin' the Time Warp, and John and his daughter, "Sunshine", from Tales from Left Field. Much merriment was had, much fantastic food was consumed, and much wit was bandied about. But most importantly, we brought two new shooters into the fold -- Michael's niece and Sunshine. Go over to John's blog and read all about it. I hope I'll have pictures to add tomorrow.

Zombies for the win

I forwarded Tam’s zombie target post to a handful of people so they could read both it, and the awesome comments.

Bitter Young Guy at work responded with:

Agreed…. Wow…Zombie targets are juvenile?? Let me tell you something…

Girlfriend…who has just gotten into shooting, was so tickled by her zombie target that she told her (anti-gun) girlfriend who loves zombie movies. Anti-Gun Girlfriend now wants to go to the range for fun. “Just once, to try it”.

If that’s what it takes to get “closed minded” people interested in gun safety, so be it.

Amen.

Unusual holster bleg

A good friend of mine asked the following question, and since this is SO out of my realm of expertise, I thought I'd pass it on and ask y'all.

Daughter got an Airsoft pistol for Christmas and I accidentally got her a right-handed holster for it.  I like UTG holsters but am having a hard time finding one for a leftie. Granted I have only looked on Amazon.com and airsoft.com and the one she really likes is right-hand only - the UTG Special Ops Leg Holster in Army Digital Camo. I found one by Taigear but it is solid black and does not have an extra pouch for the ammo.  Any suggestions?

Troops First Foundation

"Golf Channel's Rich Lerner shares the story of how CBS Sports golf analyst David Feherty and retired advertising exec Rick Kell founded the Troops First Foundation. Troops First develops, operates and supports a group of wellness, quality of life and sports-based initiatives in support of today's military personnel."




"Going to Baghdad was like going to Belfast but with worse weather."

"What was never reported was the restraint that they show on a daily basis. The compassion they have for the people over there and the nature of the greatest good deed that the world has ever seen from one nation to another."

Merry Christmas

I probably have the only 5-year-old who is still asleep at 10:45 on Christmas morning. Sweet Daughter was up all night. Vomit, drink Gatorade, sleep for 30 minutes, lather, rinse, repeat. She’s already mastered a key college skill of woofing into the garbage can without actually having to get out of bed. I’m so proud.


I was thinking that Mary was up all night on Christmas Eve, too. Being a parent is tough, but at least I’m not responsible for the freakin’ Son of God.

Around 5:00 this morning, whatever demon that was possessing her decided to exit her body rather abruptly at both ends. She’s been sleeping ever since. I think it’s time to check for a pulse.

I didn't expect this, either.

Sweet Daughter woke up from her nap and projectile vomiting ensued. The bedding is soaked, there is vomit on the rug and in my shoes. Poor kid.

Update: The Festivus Vomitus is occurring about every half hour. I must say the red Gatorade has added a rather nice touch to the Christmas color scheme. Maybe I'll actually be awake when Santa shows up this year.

Not what I expected on Christmas Eve

Sweet Daughter woke up this morning, her dial set at “11”. The service at the small country church we attend doesn’t even start until SD’s bedtime, and I figured it was going to be a long day. The Christmas tree nearly went to meet its maker several times this morning as a result of sheer exuberance (“But Momma, it’s Christmas EVE!!"), and so I figured that I’d take her to McDonald’s for a bite of lunch, and a chance to burn off some energy in the play area.

We were the only ones here for a while, and I sat in a puddle of sunshine, listening to Xmas music on the computer while sewing on a banyan and sipping on a milkshake courtesy of the manager (a mistake on somebody else’s order), while she ran around like a demented monkey. Well, sans the poo flinging. Now there are two more kids for her to play with and if all goes to plan, she’ll be worn out enough to nap for bit when we get home. Who knew that Christmas Eve at McDonalds could be so pleasant?

And now, I'll leave you with this bit of foolishness.