So I am going out to my dam to do lotsalotsa monitoring today; they’re grouting the outlet to fix a leak, and we don’t really want to plug the drains in there with cement. Drains are there for a reason, and that’s to DRAIN water that would otherwise be moving through the dam proper, taking material with it. Plug the drains, fail the dam. And I’m the one who gets to make sure that doesn’t happen while everyone else is busy doing the actual work. Responsibility, whee.
But all this means that I’m out there early and will leave late, and this is probably all you’re going to get from me today, unless I get a free moment and post a picture or something.
Can you tell I’m stoked about this pistol in a way I haven’t been for a gun in a long while?
And while I had the big camera out, my dog was bugging me (I don’t think she really likes the clicky noises it makes, so she wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to eat me)
Awesome revolvers and cute puppies, what more do you want from me?
Yikes. I really ought to do something about that pile of old receipts.
Filed under life, Me, Random
Put the 12 lb hammer spring and the 10 lb trigger spring into the GP100 last night, as I took the whole thing apart and put it back together again. Seems to still work. Unfortunately, it’s looking like a 95% chance of “Working this weekend,” so the true function test probably isn’t going to happen. Going down to my Uncle’s big Mardi Gras party–with food cooked by his friend from Louisiana–also probably isn’t going to happen.
Life gets in the way of life.
Ok, you know how speed strip reloaders come in packs of 2, right? I’ve been carrying one around with me every day for two years. I know where that one is. The other one was in my desk drawer at the old house. I saw it twice a week. Now I’ve moved, and it’s no longer with the desk drawer stuff. I’ve looked in every. single. box. I can find around here.
…and it’s nowhere to be found.
The only thing keeping me from buying more is the knowledge that as soon as I do it will be sitting in my desk drawer like nothing ever happened.
Filed under guns, life, Random
And I don’t want to hear “why not,” because I don’t own a 30-06, my dad never owned one, and I don’t even know anybody with one, yet, going through the stash reveals an unopened box of these:
I mean, I guess I’m ok with having a random box of nice hunting ammo in a caliber I don’t own, but…
I guess it just goes to show that you really ought to keep things organized.
There’s someone going for a second look at the old house this afternoon. Man I hope they like it, and we can move on.
Woo, got my Prophet 6.0091 (name that reference, kiddies!) to Duna last night. Two landers, two probes, a tug module and a laboratory module, with an engine module discarded in interplanetary space on the way there. A regular tower of power, if I do say so myself. Way more interesting than watching a bunch of people I don’t care about wave flags at each other on the TV.
Meanwhile, in real life:
I’m attempting to bring some semblance of order to my gun stuff today. You know… there’s six boxes of 9mm hollowpoints sitting on the floor in the closet, and an empty ammo can you remember vaguely seeing out in the garage. And where was your big box of gun things? Under that pile, or that one? Because that holster is probably in it. Maybe all the holsters should go in one box? Hey, there’s one of those boxes that can fit under a bed, and it doesn’t have anything in it–what could get put in there…
Here, have a blurry photo.
Trial number one.
From this recipe. Start simple before adding all sorts of other fun things. Very easy to do (once you have the Cinchona and the Citric acid). I like it. I haven’t cracked open any soda water with it yet (I only have one can left!), but a small trial cocktail with plain water and whiskey is quite tasty. Being a non-spiced-up tonic, it’s a bit like one of your standard store-brand cheap tonic waters, but with a nice earthy flavor.
I got 28 bucks for a load of junk from the old house’s garage. Buckets of rusty screws, an old battery, the lawnmower that didn’t run anymore, that sort of thing. I love the scrap metal place.
Hiking a half mile up a steep dam embankment with a five gallon bucket full of wet dirt and gravel (probably a bit more than 50 pounds, and just a bare wire handle for that matter). When you are already carrying another 5 gallon bucket with all your tools and instruments in it. And the ground is completely saturated so with every step you sink an inch down into the mud, and it sticks to your boots when you lift your foot.
All I can say is that I’m glad it wasn’t snowing, too.
Went into the big gun store yesterday and talked to the owner briefly. He said “can I help you find anything?” and I replied “I want a GP100.” His response? “I know what you mean.”
I guess I need to keep looking…