My Brother-In-Law Sorta

My life partner's brother came up for a few days and spent the weekend with us. He's quite savvy about guns and such. My man and his brother went way back to the secret firing range and had fun.

Wished I been there. They brought back several paper plates shot to hell and a story nearly incredible of an old pine, long dead yet standing, which served as the firing range post. Well, one thing led to another until the 40 foot pine came crashing down.

No damage to anything, I guess. At some point in time this dead tree would have fallen anyways, but talk about being in the right place at the right time.

I got to handle a Baby Glock. It felt pretty good in my small hand. I like the fact it takes the same as the full size Glock. Interchangeable is always good in my book.

My brother-in-law-sorta also brought me two knives as gifts. The are just right, not too big and razor sharp. Both men laughed while I tried to learn the fine art of opening them one handed. Of course they both can open a full sized knife one handed in the blink of an eye.

Having written about a grid down cannibalistic society, I feel so totally duty bound to learn some serious self defense. Bottom line, I know these woods. If I can get out of the house alive, I'll survive, I call it the Path of the Rabbit.

I'm looking at arming the rabbit, though!

Respect the Yellow Line

I live in the Land of Curves and motor cycle people actually make trips to our neck of the woods to ride them. I've been told there are 39 curves in 13 miles back in these parts. I pondered that statement awhile and asked myself, "Ken ye site me jes one straight piece, I ask ye?" I'm trying to learn Appalachian. I love it here, but my yankeeness sticks out, can't seem to help it after all these years, still.

Anyways, coming around the curves back in these parts a body doesn't expect cross traffic. Doesn't happen. But, its Labor Day weekend, and the fun is in full progress. We have customers up at the best flea market. The place was packed and I found a tight little spot to park my Geo. Nobody shows you where to park, you just try to be sure they can still get around you.Then lock the doors and don't look back.

Well, the "hardware" man was very nice and I bought some pipes today, mostly the transitional pieces needed to get the thing married to the stove, through the window and headed skyward. I also found the stove "handle"  thingy you lift the lids off the stove top so you can feed it. That little lever cost  $5, well worth it.

So, traffic being what it was, even on the back roads, I'd meet cars and trucks, motorcycles and what more, just crossing the line every which way. Luckily I learn quickly and stayed well over to the edge in my lane. All is well. I take the path of the rabbit, maybe the fox, or even the wolf. But, by god I know I ain't the grizzly bear on the road, able to take on all comers and top of the food chain. I keep to my side and pay attention. Otherwise, how can I go find my stove pipes, spend money at Dairy Queen, and pick apples from a wonderful local grower?

Live, let live. If you wanna die, do it on your own time.

Whew, felt good to get that off my chest.