Giving my daughter her first rifle of her very own was one of the best moments of the week.  She’s excited to take it to the woods this fall.

Girlie Bear’s Thompson Center Omega .50 Muzzleloader Rifle

Question – What does my youngest son have in common with Billy Graham?

Answer – They both have the ability to get me to rise to my feet and yell “Jesus!”.

• Cinnamon pretzels and diet Coke – The breakfast of champions.
• Contrary to stereotypes, the bunnies at the farm were not interested in the carrots we brought along for them due to the presence of an entire head of cabbage for them to munch on in the hutch.
  • The sheep, goats, llama, donkeys, and horse were much more receptive.
• For the first time in my life, I have acquired a pistol that is new and still needs a breaking-in period.  I guess I’ve been fortunate up to this point.
  • At least that’s what I’m going to attribute the stiff action and double-feeds to.  If it’s still doing this after 1000 rounds, it’s off to the gunsmith with her.
• Girlie Bear was tickled to be offered the chance to give the safety briefing by the range officer this afternoon, but politely declined.  She did, however, blush a rather adorable shade of pink.
• When a centerfire or rimfire rifle does not go boom when you pull the trigger, it’s not that hard to get the charge out of the chamber.  When a muzzleloader has a failure to fire, it’s an entirely different story.
  • I’m guessing the Pyrodex pellets were just too old.  The 209 primer was firing OK.
  • Luckily for me, it was a true dud and not a hangfire.   But I still kept it pointed downrange for about 15 minutes before pulling the rifle off the line and taking out the breech plug.
• When trying to zero a non-scoped rifle at 100 yards, it is probably a good idea to bring a spotting scope or binoculars to the range with you.
  • Oh well, guess I’ll just have to go back to the range to finish zeroing it.  Shucks.
• Pro-tip – A clear plastic bottle full of water left in the sun on the dash of a car gets very warm after a couple of hours, and does wonders to clean out the bores of muzzle-loaders and guns that have been firing corrosive ammunition.
• I am blessed with a wife who leaves me alone when I’m cleaning my guns.  Or maybe it’s the smell of the solvents that she can’t stand.
• Using the term “We who, white woman?” while discussing the new terraced garden boxes that “we” will be excavating, building, and filling before planting season next year might not have been the most diplomatic thing I’ve ever said.

I distinctly remember making my father an ashtray in art class at the suggestion of the teacher.  No-one batted an eye when I asked how big to make the grooves so he could park his butt on the corner.

Fast forward 30+ years, and Girlie Bear changes her design for something she’s working on because having a cigar in it would mean she wouldn’t be able to take pictures of it to school to show to her friends.

Not sure if this is progress or not.

• Nothing puts a good spin on the Friday before you take a week of vacation like a lunchtime phone call from Irish Woman, who has just banged her head on the corner of the trunk of her car and needs stitches.
  • She’s fine.  Ugly cut in her hairline required six stitches.  Only lingering effect is a nagging headache on that side of her head and a new hairstyle so as to not highlight or put stress on the wound.
• Quote of the weekend:  “Mama, are they going to kill you?”, said by Boo just before the doctor started putting in the stitches.  I took him back out to the waiting room with reassurances from his mother that she’d be OK.
• Boo was wearing a new shirt Saturday that has a pretty convincing chocolate scent embedded in the artwork.  It really smells like chocolate, and got stronger after being warmed by his body heat.  I gave up sweets last summer, but I’ve been craving a Hershey bar since Saturday morning.
• Got a briefing on a couple of the projects that Irish Woman has decided are going to happen before snow flies.  Our discussion was a textbook example of what happens when “artist’s conception” meets “real world”.
  • Normal people would meet somewhere in the middle.  I have to find a way for it to be “real world” enough to not kill small children, but still look like “artist’s conception”.
  • Apparently there is an accounting discrepancy between what my spreadsheet came up with using prices from the lumber yard and what her muse told her it would take.
  • We have agreed to hold a meeting to go over the numbers, where I believe she will try to convince me that wood doesn’t cost what the lumber yard says it does.
  • When your “discussion” about a project starts to revolve around whether or not you need a permit, it’s time to walk away for a little while.
• Girlie Bear announced today that she likes Van Halen.  I told her I’d be quoting from “Hot for Teacher” during the open house at her new high school in a couple of weeks.
• My daughter announced that there were some cute boys at the church picnic Saturday night.  I need to go shooting.
• Customer service tip:  If you’re actually friendly to me when I ask if your gun store does transfers, I may just buy a gun before I leave your establishment.
  • Pictures to follow
• Can anyone give me an opinion DS Arms AR-15 uppers?  Their price point is really good, and the example guns I looked at at the NRA annual meeting seemed pretty solid.

Hell hath no wrath like that of a woman who is trying to make two beautiful butter cakes with caramel icing for the church picnic and is getting no cooperation from any entity in the known universe, especially the cakes.

• It is surprisingly easy to do even the most difficult task when you go back and do the basic prep work properly.
• I love the way the wind smells when there’s one heck of a thunderstorm up wind from me.
• Stopping me from working to tell me I ought not to eat my lunch at my desk is part of the reason I feel it necessary to work while I eat.
  • Here’s a hint:  If I keep turning my back on you to click some menu choice that will run while you talk to me, that means I really don’t have time to gab at the moment.
• I really need to stop being so critical while watching children’s movies.  We’re watching WallE and I’m pointing out the problems with how the ship is run and how wasteful they are for being self-sufficient after 700 years.
• I have a wonderful wife.  She was informed by her bank that she had 13,000 ‘points’ on her account , and that she needed to use them or they would expire.  She passed on spa days, clothing, even electronics, and used them to get gift cards at the local hardware store.
  • Now I have fewer excuses to not build all the things she thinks I’m capable of building.
• Boo needs to learn that when I drop my voice a couple of octaves and start enunciating very carefully, it’s time to freeze and figure out what he’s doing that is wrong.
  • And if I’m growling like a bear and not smiling, that’s a hint and a half.
• Apparently I need to acquire plans for a “pergola“, which I think is the Greek work for “big pain in the ass”.
  • The thing that keeps going through my mind as we discuss this ‘project’ is the Finnish word “perkele”. Coincidence?  I think not!

• I need a time machine so I can go back about a year and slap myself for not writing down the solution to a problem that I thought I would never see again, but which still crept up this morning.
  • Seriously, at least if it was a zombie, this problem could be neutralized with a shot to the head.  This thing just won’t die!
• Call me a coward, but when I pull up to the local stop-n-stab and there are four police cruisers parked at the front door, and that is not a normal situation, I go somewhere else for my drive-home refreshment.
• I must remember to not characterise Girlie Bear’s high school course schedule as “3 AP classes, a math class, JROTC, a computer class, and a bullsh** Choir class.”
  • No, I did not say that to Girlie Bear
  • No, I do not really believe that fine arts classes are BS.  I just don’t know why they’re mandatory.
• If you’re going to blow through red lights after dark and don’t want to become my hood ornament, turn on your bleeding headlights!
• Had an in-depth discussion of the AR build project with Irish Woman over dinner tonight.  Apparently she thought I was talking about something else when I told her I bought the stripped lower.  Luckily, once I explained what I was talking about, she admitted that I made a good faith effort to inform her of the purchase, so I’m not on the couch over an unauthorized boomstick acquisition.
• To the lady who was singing along to Journey at the top of her lungs with the windows down at the off-ramp tonight, you rock!

You know you’ve grown into the role of parenting a young boy when you find a pair of galoshes, a superman cape, a plastic battle axe, and a viking shield in the bathtub and all that runs through your mind is “Where am I going to put these?” when you go to take your shower.

• My coffee maker started leaking all over the counter this morning, so no coffee.  I’m also out of soda and caffeinated tea, so no other source of caffeine for me.  Yeah, the kids are safe, thanks for asking.
• For dinner tonight, I made homemade vegetable beef soup in the crock pot, fresh bread in the bread maker, and strawberry rhubarb cobbler.  Just about everything  but the meat in the soup came from the garden, as did the fruit in the cobbler.  All of it was delicious.
  • The look on the neighbor’s face when I went out to the landscaping and started cutting out pieces of what he thought was an ornamental so that I could make dessert with it was priceless.  I had to explain rhubarb to him.
  • Yes, we landscape with food.  Strawberries and pumpkins make better ground cover than petunias, and rhubarb grows big and bushy here.  All of our fruit trees are dwarfs that blend in with the flowers quite well, and our garden beds double as retaining walls.
• Warm cobbler with vanilla ice cream may very well be the food of the gods.
• Girlie Bear made an outstanding open field tackle this evening when Bluegrass slipped her leash and made a run for the border.  I may have to sign her up for powder puff football this fall.
• It is sometimes difficult to explain the concept of fast drying plaster of Paris to a four-year old, especially when you’re trying to get him to press his hands into it before it gets rock hard.