- Had a wonderful Christmas with the family.
- The day didn’t start until 8 AM. Boo must have been really tired from Christmas Eve.
- One problem with living so close to several extended families is that I’m not sure I have storage for all the stuff the kids got.
- It took me exactly 8 seconds to figure out that the SpiderMan wrist-mounted web shooter was an outside toy.
- Our Christmas tree has survived so far. No cats have been found in its branches, the puppy has not tried to drink the water in the stand, and it has only teetered once. That was when Moonshine was having a grand old time pouncing on wrapping paper and empty boxes and slid into it.
- Dinner was roast beast. Boo was especially excited when his aunt brought out Who Pudding for dessert.
- Let him never say he wasn’t indulged.
- Best part of getting a beer making kit for Christmas? Drinking enough beer so that you have empty bottles to fill with beer.
- Made the obligatory trip to Kroger before the storm hit this morning.
- Nothing like going to the grocery on senior appreciation day, the day after Christmas, and the day of a snow storm all rolled into one.
- True story: I saw two older ladies threatening grievous bodily harm upon each other over the last bag of a particular kind of apple.
- I was told that the butcher at the store does not sell beef bones for soup. What kind of butcher doesn’t have a femur or two lying around somewhere?
- Dinner tonight will be beef vegetable soup made with fresh vegetables and leftovers from last night, served with fresh whole wheat bread from our bread maker.
- Tally for the day – 2 loads of dishes, 4 loads of clothes, one room in the basement cleaned out, one set of shelves in the basement assembled and loaded up.
- I guess I earned my keep.
- Irish Woman is working today, so I thought I’d knock out a few things while she’s tied to the computer in the bedroom.
- Note to self – homemade soup left on low heat for four hours instead of medium will not cook the potatoes and celery properly.
- It is good to have tortillas and cheese available as backup dinner plans.
All posts by daddybear71
Thoughts on the Day
Posted by daddybear71 on December 26, 2012
https://daddybearsden.com/2012/12/26/thoughts-on-the-day-79/
Action Needed
The BATFE has proposed the reclassification of rifle ammunition that can be shot out of guns like the Thompson-Center Contender and regulate it like pistol ammunition. What that means to us is that rifle ammunition that they would consider “armor piercing” would become more tightly regulated, which is my euphemism for “impossible to get”. This would include the inexpensive surplus and Eastern European ammunition we use for plinking. It will also restrict full metal jacket rifle ammunition, which is the bread and butter of anyone who enjoys precision shooting.
Please reach out to the BATFE and tell them that you disagree with these proposed regulations. Be respectful, but be firm. If we’re going to fight gun control in the legislature and the courts, we have to fight unreasonable regulation of the ammunition for those guns.
Addition – I forgot to mention that the window for comments closes on December 31, so if you’re going to do this, get to it. No time for procrastination on this one.
Update – Fixed the link to the BATFE’s email.
Posted by daddybear71 on December 26, 2012
https://daddybearsden.com/2012/12/26/action-needed/
30 Days of Dickens – Day 22
Take nothing on its looks; take everything on evidence. There’s no better rule. — Great Expectations
My Take – There is a lot of rhetoric flying around these days. Opinions and slogans are stated as facts, and they are used as a cudgel to beat down opposition. Don’t be fooled by it. Challenge assertions, demand sources for ‘facts’, and do your own research and thinking. In other words, become part of the solution, not the problem.
Posted by daddybear71 on December 26, 2012
https://daddybearsden.com/2012/12/26/30-days-of-dickens-day-22/
A Christmas Visit
DaddyBear the Minivandian awoke with a start. During his winter slumber, he had dreamed of peaceful mountain passes and glorious battles. But that had been interrupted by the sound of a dog collar clinking and a low growl from the throat of his war hound, Walks in Shadow. Retrieving Gnarlthing, his magical blade of disembowelment, he bolted to the hall of gathering. As he passed through the portal to the chamber, he raised his sword to counter any blows and to strike at the intruder.
“Hold, Minivandian! Put up your weapon, for you have no need of it. ‘Tis I, Nicholas of the North!” said the ancient warrior who sat upon the floor, all three war hounds laying next to him. His crimson coat was rimmed with the fur of a white wolf, and his peaked helm was wreathed with holly. His beard, which had once been almost as red as his coat, was now a shock of white that ringed his almost perpetual smile. DaddyBear remembered watching this man smile and laugh as he waded into many a fight. At his side lay his bag of holding, along with the remains of the sweets that Irish Woman had laid out before retiring for the night. My lord DaddyBear returned Gnarlthing to his scabbard, remembering that his blade would have no effect on the jolly old elf, and that with his preternatural knowledge of who was good or bad, Nicholas would know his intentions before even he did.
“Greetings, Nicholas. It’s been too long.” rumbled the Minivandian.
“Aye, it has. Greetings to you and yours on the day we celebrate the birth of the God, DaddyBear. When last we met, you were not yet the Minivandian. You have changed much, my friend.”
“Yes, life has gone on in the years since my youth.”
“So I can see,” said Nicholas, his eyes twinkling as he eyed the liquor cabinet.
DaddyBear sprang to his feet, and threw back the door to the cabinet. From the top shelf, he brought down his most prized bottle of corn liquor, aged in oak casks by the monks of Loretto. Grabbing two crystal drinking vessels, he poured a generous libation into both. Handing one to the saintly warrior, he raised his own in a toast.
“To good days gone by, and to better days to come”.
After returning the toast, Nicholas took a deep draught of the amber liquor. Sighing appreciatively, he looked down at Water of Fire, who was sleeping contentedly with his head on Nicholas’s knee.
“Nice pony,” he remarked, “although I am surprised that the Lady of Eire will allow such livestock in the house.” A wry smile came across his face.
“Ahh, but he is still young. The mage of animal healing thinks that he will more than double in size before he is through.”
“Well, then, I am glad that we became friends while he is still small. Even so, it took almost an entire plate of sweets and a glass of milk to calm him.
“I believe that I have something here for you all.” said Nicholas, reaching into his bag of holding.
“For the Young Prince, I have a “My First Magical Combat” kit. Please pass on my condolences to him that I could not provide the powdered claws of a red dragon. Such things are not for the young, no matter how talented. For Listens to Stories, I have a new bow carved from the wood of the Tree of the Letti. It weights almost nothing, but in skilled hands, can put an arrow through the eye of a needle at 100 yards. I have also included a quiver of silver tipped arrows. I understand that she has begun accompanying you on your forays against the undead. These will come in handy.”
DaddyBear smiled at that. Such a gift fit his daughter perfectly. But he knew he would have to watch her very closely as she trained with it, almost as closely as he would be watching his son. He didn’t know what qualified as “Magical Combat” for young princelings, but he could imagine that it would be something that would have to be done out-of-doors and away from his mother.
“For the Lady of Eire, I bring a ring, wrought of the finest dragons gold, with the fire of a dragon captured in the stone we have set in it. That is powerful, but there is still room for magic she can place in it if she so wishes. As for you, my good warrior… I am sorry. I received your missive, but even I cannot find a bolt carrier group and match grade trigger now. I wish you luck in finding them. If you are successful, please send word to me as to where they are to be found. I have three builds myself that sit idle, waiting for parts. No, instead, I have this for you.”
Nicholas drew forth from his bag of holding a small, rectangular wooden box. Handing it to the Minivandian, he smiled as it was opened.
“This is Kolmet, a dagger wrought by the same smith that created your blade, Gnarlthing. It is sharp enough to cut flame from candle, yet light and balanced enough to be spun on its point with not a wobble. I believe it will serve you well.”
DaddyBear looked into the box, and beheld Kolmet, the brother of his sword. As he gripped him, he could feel the two blades sing to one another, and knew that he would enjoy the first time he took both of them into combat.
Just then, a soft tapping was heard on the ceiling above them. Looking up and sighing, Nicholas got to his feet.
“Well, my lord Minivandian, I must be going. There are many more families that I must visit this night, though I doubt many will be as pleasant a visit as this. A Merry Christmas and Yuletide to you, my lord.”
“And to you, Nicholas of the North. May your paths be easy, your ride be pleasant, and your sleep be deep.” answered the Minivandian.
With that, Nicholas turned toward the fireplace, where the roaring fire had bedded down to coals. With a wink to the hounds, who had roused from their slumber just in time to thump their tails at him as he left, he disappeared. DaddyBear could hear the pawing of hooves upon the roof now, followed by the swishing of a sleigh as it was pulled up and off of the house.
My lord DaddyBear then placed Kolmet onto the mantel above the fire, patted the war hounds upon their heads, and returned to his bed chamber. The next morning, his children were delighted with the gifts that Nicholas had left, and many warnings about using them in the house, skewering a sibling on a cloth-yard shift, or turning a sibling into a toad were given. The Lady of Eire did indeed place a spell of protection into the fiery stone of her ring, while DaddyBear took Kolmet out and practiced with him for several hours.
Thus did the clan of DaddyBear spend their Christmas. An old friend, a happy warrior, visited them, many gifts were bestowed, and their feast of that day was legendary. The Lady of Eire outdid herself in preparation and hospitality, and he, he himself, DaddyBear carved the roast beast, which the Young Prince had brought down with a magic missile just the week before.
Now, let me tell you tales of high adventure and deep snow….
Posted by daddybear71 on December 25, 2012
https://daddybearsden.com/2012/12/25/a-christmas-visit/
30 Days of Dickens – Day 21
“Men’s courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead,’ said Scrooge. ‘But if the courses be departed from, the ends will change. Say it is thus with what you show me.” – A Christmas Carol
My Take – In the past, I have been less of a good man than I ought to have been. Let’s face it, I was a pretty miserable excuse for a human being for the first 10 years or so of adult life. One of the things that Irish Woman has done for me is to be a constant reminder that I can be a good man and that she and our children deserve just such a man. We can all look in the mirror, see the good with the bad, and try to change not just our today, but also all of our tomorrows. I recognize that I’m not there yet, but I at least know enough to see where I need improvement and to try to follow through on it.
Posted by daddybear71 on December 25, 2012
https://daddybearsden.com/2012/12/25/30-days-of-dickens-day-21/
Christmas Thought
8 And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.
9 And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.
10 And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.
11 For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.
12 And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.
13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,
14 Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.
15 And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.
16 And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.
17 And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child.
18 And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds.
19 But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.
20 And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them. — The Gospel of Saint Luke, Chapter 2, Versus 8 through 20
Christ was not born in a palace. His birth was not announced in the temple. He came not just for the wealthy, the powerful, or the royal, but for the lowest of the low as much as He came for the highest of the high. Shepherds keeping a night watch in the wild country, not the priests in Jerusalem, were the first to be told of His birth, and they, not the Three Kings, were the first to come and revere Him.
It shouldn’t take a host of angels for us to see the beauty of the world and the promise that it holds for us. The wonder of the Lord’s love is evident all around us, and we could see it if we were to only open our eyes. In every kind word, every unseen act of charity, every person doing what needs doing without expectation of thanks shows it to us. I don’t require a chorus to hear the symphony of creation. All it takes is a few quiet moments for me to remember how beautiful this life can be.
I wish each and every one of you a Merry Christmas. No matter your faith, I wish you all the blessings of life.
Posted by daddybear71 on December 25, 2012
https://daddybearsden.com/2012/12/25/christmas-thought-2/
Today’s Earworm
Posted by daddybear71 on December 24, 2012
https://daddybearsden.com/2012/12/24/todays-earworm-270/
30 Days of Dickens – Day 20
It is a melancholy truth that even great men have their poor relations. — Bleak House
My Take – Every group has its crazies and asshats. A lot of people I know have a religion and are quite Ok with others who either worship differently or have no faith. Unfortunately, along with them come the people who feel the need to save your soul, no matter how they do it. I know people who don’t like guns, but recognize that their personal preferences do not mean that I should give up my guns. I have to try hard to not lump them in with those who believe that it is immoral to own guns and want anyone with a gun to turn them in or face prison.
Our own side has its crazies. Not all gun owners are responsible, respectful, or, let’s be honest here, stable. We have a lot of parents that make sure their guns are secured against little hands. We also have asshats who leave a loaded gun where a child, either their own or a visitor, can find it and harm someone. Most hunters and target shooters are respectful of the land and clean up after they’re done. They are all hurt by the people who leave brass and garbage everywhere and commit vandalism. And finally, the vast majority of gun owners are stable, law-abiding people who only want to be left alone to exercise their rights. We are all tarred with the same brush that is given to the anti-gunners by gang-bangers, criminals, and crazies who use their guns to harm the innocent.
Posted by daddybear71 on December 24, 2012
https://daddybearsden.com/2012/12/24/30-days-of-dickens-day-20/
Repost – Combat Preparation
Combat Preparation
The old warrior slowly ran the stone down the length of his sword. This weapon had been made for his grandfather, and he was planning on passing it along to his own grandson. He could be buried with some of his lesser weapons, but this piece of family hardware would pass down the line along with the strong bodies and tough minds that had set him and his brothers apart during the wars. Once the edge was sharp enough to shave with, he ran an oiled rag down its length to protect it from the elements.
Next came the shield. He polished the leather, wood, and iron of it lovingly. He noted every chip and dent, remembering the blows that had made their mark over the years. He would need this old friend’s protection again today.
Next came his war kilt, chain mail shirt, and helm. He strapped his sword across his back, and attached his long dagger to his ankle where it would make a good back up weapon.
Bowing his head before starting his march to battle, he prayed to the gods, both old and new, to protect him as he faced the ravening hordes he was sure to encounter today. He thought of all the old comrades who had gone before him, and the young men who had come home half mad from the sights he was heading towards today.
Once both his body and spirit were armed and armored, he stepped out onto the black plain that lead to his goal. He squared his shoulders, but knew that today might be his last. Too many gray hairs graced his head, too many battles over the years ran through his memory for him to expect to see the sun set on this day.
As he walked forward to battle, the sights and sounds of this day burned into his soul. The high pitched ringing of a bell, the soft music that filled the air, the old warrior knew they would be the sounds that would take him to Valhalla. The red and black clad herald of the madness within greeted him as he walked through doors that magically opened for him. The noise of the horde immediately pressed on him like a wave. Undaunted, he waded into the lair of the enemy, intent on his purpose.
The last thing he heard before the noise drowned out all sanity was the merry calling of the door keeper:
“Merry Christmas! Welcome to Walmart!”
Posted by daddybear71 on December 23, 2012
https://daddybearsden.com/2012/12/23/repost-combat-preparation/
30 Days of Dickens – Day 19
If there were no bad people, there would be no good lawyers. — The Old Curiosity Shop
My Take – In order for you to be good at what you do, you have to practice. Every emergency room doctor who does wonders got that way through easing the suffering of untold numbers of patients. A police officer who not only finds the bad guys but also knows how to make things better in his area learned how to do that by dealing with the worst that our society can offer on a daily basis. The EMS guy who knows just how to talk to his patients and how to keep them on this side of death until they get to the ER got that way by wading through years of accidents, overdoses, and illnesses. Yes, we lionize those who do their jobs well, especially when their jobs are unpleasant. But we should never forget just what those people have to go through in order to get that good.
Posted by daddybear71 on December 23, 2012
https://daddybearsden.com/2012/12/23/30-days-of-dickens-day-19/
DaddyBear
DaddyBear’s Den 