Don't Tell Nobody But Being Single Blows Chunks.

So, the idiot Doctor and hospital decided to have the surgery on Linda Lou's leg when they had no room for her on the rehab wing. The surgery went fine, BTW, they removed all the hardware and put in a longer rod, and, while he was inside, he worked on her knee some, also.

The plan was to put her in this nursing home in Greenville that does physical therapy. Only after the surgery did anyone check to see if our insurance would cover that. The answer is no. So, they kept Linda Lou in the medical-surgery wing longer than usual until they could find a hospital with a rehab wing with room for her. All the "close" hospitals were full, leaving us with a choice of two, about seventy-five miles away, each. You might not believe this but I said an ugly word. Or two.

Fortunately, one of the hospitals is in Plano, TX, where our daughter lives with her family. So, that's where I took her. I have enough gas in the tank to go get her and bring her home, next Thursday. Not to go see her. Oh, snap! And other comments.

The good news is thar she is getting her physical therapy and Stephanie is able to visit and do things like keep her in clean laundry and the odd snack. Tonight, Steph and Dean took William, aka Dead Eye McGurk, to a scouting function and couldn't come. Dean's parents, though, showed up with the other two boys, Josiah and Karson. So, even though I can't go, my Linda Lou gets visits from some of those who love her.

Don't tell her that I miss her, she'll get the big head. While Linda Lou is in the hospital I'm fixing some of the meals from bachelorhood. Meals like "Oh no! Not Again!" This is hamburger, fried and drained, then cooked a little more with onions, mixed with rice and served with lots of soy sauce. For some strange reason this recipe repels women but guys like it. It's not worth having Linda Lou gone so long, though.

Other than that, the big news around here is that one of my neighbors rototilled a little strip in the front yard and we hit a yard where someone once had a mobile home, dug up a couple of dozen Iris and I planted them. There are a lot of Iris left, there. The place has been empty for a long time and the Iris have kind of taken over. The Iris I planted won't, if they live, bloom until next Spring but, what the heck. If they live, good, if not, well, I tried. Iris, being more or less a desert plant, require little, to no effort, the hard part is keeping them from turning into an Iris "forest".

Ming the Merciless has gone completely blind now, this has been coming on for a while. She is still fairly comfortable, though. The pains she has are controlled by the same low dose aspirin I take every day to reduce the risk of a heart attack. Only hers are wrapped in liverwurst. Her teeth are pretty well gone now, too. So I feed her that soft pouch food. Bingo and CAP don't quite understand that they get kibble and she gets pouch food. The kibble is better for them, though.

Anyhow, Ming is still fairly happy, even though she can't see and can't hardly walk. I take her outside once or twice a day, she lays outside after she's done her business and limped away a few feet. She lays there and sniffs the wind and barks at strange sounds and smells for a while, then I bring her back in. Then she gets her liverwurst pill.

Forty years ago if anyone would have told me that this would be my life, I probably would have thumped 'em with a stick or something. As it is, even through the rough patches, I'm one of the luckiest guys around. I might not be rich but what I have is both mine and paid for, plus the kids and grandkids that love me, not to mention my Linda Lou. I won't mention her for fear of that big head. Which is different from a little head.

Another Mother's Day. I Still Miss Her

I am sure there are men and women who miss their mothers as much as I do, I just can't figure out who they would be.

Single Again For A Little While

Linda Lou is back in the hospital after more surgery on that same broken leg. Seems one or more of the screws holding the rod to the bone came out and her leg was healing with a bend where there should be no bend. So they went in and put a longer rod in, plus, since her knee was about kaput, they did a little work there, too.

Lord only knows how long they'll keep her there this time, seems they want her to stay long enough to avoid her having to keep repeating the process. It would be nice to get back into a regular routine. This is about the only reason I miss living in town. Instead of it being a ten minute drive it's always a big trek. It could be worse, though, I could have settled in Nashville.

Hmmm, Linda Lou just called. Seems that, instead of staying home and keeping the dogs comfy I have to go take Linda Lou to a nursing home near the hospital as they have no rooms available in the physical therapy section. Seems that the physical terrorists can work on her just as well in the other nursing care center. I would have been just as happy had she watched where she was walking in the first place.

More, later, when I have some idea of what is going on.

A Little Progress On The Fractures

I drove Linda Lou to the Orthopedist yesterday for her checkup, good news! She is now allowed to put a little weight on that foot. Even better, a weel from Monday she goes in for the outpatient surgery to remove all the hardware from inside her leg, the rod(s?), the screws, the Buick 231 V6, all of it. Then, if the bones are still a little wiggly, he will put some external rods on, otherwise, just another of those boots.

I am glad to see this progress as Linda Lou is still riding the "I'm just a poor cripple, wait on me hand and foot" routine for all it's worth. I swear, I'm staying in bed for a month once she's recovered. Maybe three months.

Other than that, not much going on here. I keep seeing stuff I think I ought to write about, only to find that everyone else already has. I'll get into it again, I swear. Until then, is it nap time?

Update: I just remembered, about a month ago I was lamenting the impending demise of Marlin Firearms Company. Well, I was looking at the Rossi catalog online, those are the Brazilian folks who made my clone of the Winchester '92. Anyhow, they are putting out what looks to be a copy of the most popular Marlin, the 336 in .30-30. That carbine competed with the Winchester Model 94 and was, in some ways, a better firearm. With it's solid top and side ejection it is easier to scope, for one thing, and the action is somewhat more resistant to getting crud in it in, say, woods hunting in tough weather. At any rate, the new Rossi lever action sort of helps with the demise of Winchester and the impending demise of Marlin. Too bad for us, though, if we ever really need to make large amounts of war materiel again. Not only do we no longer have the factories, we no longer have many people who can work in factories.

Dead Eye McGurk, Terror Of Tejas

We finally took one of my grandsons, Dean and Stephanie's oldest William, shooting. The first step was letting the boy know exactly what a gun can do, we had three melons of various sorts, a cantaloupe, something else and one of those little personal-sized watermelons. there were shot with my .45 Colt rifle and the .30-06, plus the one shot up with the .22. The .22 impressed the boy, those plain vanilla Remington high speed hollowpoints left quarter sized exit holes in the melon, plus sprayed a good bit of melon out over the grass.

The .45 Colt, shot with a "Ruger Only" load that was a Hornady XTP 250 gr Jacketed Hollowpoint that leaves the 24 inch barrel of my Model '92 clone at near 2000 feet per second blows up a melon nicely. The .30-06 was most impressive of all, though, it hit the melon and sent a spray of melon guts all over, plus some larger chunks falling from the sky well after the BOOM!

We started William, excuse me, Dead Eye, with the .22. This .22 is mine, I bought it back when I was sort of flush, actually I bought a Shilen Match grade bull barrel and a Hogue overmolded stock for a Ruger 10-.22, before I ever had the action. Then I bought a beat-up 10-.22 along with a set of Volquartson action parts, a target hammer, sear, etc. I basically turned a small game and plinking carbine into a target rifle. Then I later turned the original stock and barrel over to Dead Eye's Daddy to cut down to fit him. The ruger has a simple barrel change, the barrel is held on by a V-block and two allen bolts. Since the bull barrel is too heavy and the Hogue stock too long for the seven year old we made the switch, leaving the action modifications in, nobody has ever been hurt by shooting with a good trigger.

Even as light as the stock barrel is, the rifle is still a tad heavy for the boy so he used a rest. He fired close to fifty rounds with the .22 and then, for grins and giggles, fired a few rounds from a S&W Model 60 .38 Special, two inch, some .38 ammo in a Ruger SP101 .357 and, the piece de resistance, the .45 Colt in a Single Action Army clone. All of those, of course, with mild loads, 3.5 grains of Hodgdon's Titegroup behind a 158 grain semiwadcutter in the .38 and .357 and 5.5 grains of Titegroup and a 250 grain flat point round nose in the .45. The boy loved him that .45. He also liked the .38 but not the .357. I'm not sure if it was the bigger grip or the heavier weight. The boy is now watching my heath carefully, in hopes of inheriting my shootin' irons. He's also got a beady eye on his Dad's .30-06.

We've created a monster! As always, click on the pictures to embiggen them. I'm hoping Dean's Dad will send me some of the pictures he took so I'll have some of him with the .22.

Bacon And Beans

Start with a three pound package of Wright's Bacon Ends And Pieces. Take a sharp knife and cut the package in half, wrap and freeze one half. Spray some Pam on the bottom of a big skillet or the big pot you soaked the beans in and then dried, fry the bacon. Pour the bacon grease over the dogs' kibble, they love that. There are other ways to get bacon, including buying sliced bacon but, trust me, go to Wally World and try the Wrights, it's simply amazing how much meat, as opposed to fat, is in one of those boxes. Anyway, after frying up and draining the bacon, add two pounds of soaked beans, the bean of your choice. This works with (so far) Pinto beans, Navy beans, Lima, both small and large, Great Northern, Split Pea, Black beans, Kidney and Red Beans. I'm sure there are lots of others. Today, for no particular reason, I'm doing Great Northern Beans. Actually, there is a reason, because I can!

After frying and draining the bacon, add the beans and hot water along with an onion or two, some bay leaf and garlic, lots of garlic. The rule of thumb is add garlic until you're sure you have too much, then add more. After all, with all those vampires out there, oh sorry, those are congresscritters. Eh, same thing. Garlic and onion are especially important if one plans on visiting Washington, Dc in the summer, Harry Reid has a very sensitive nose.

I'm not persactly sure why but my Momma always added some carrot to white beans, except Lima Beans. At any rate, I always add the carrots, too. I do not want to meet my Momma in the afterlife and deserve that backhand she had, quicker'n a striking snake!

Always soak the beans longer than you think you need to and make sure they're well cooked, it will eliminate, or at least lessen, the clouds of rank gas. Oooh, speaking of beans, I finally looked up Haricot Beans on the Intertoobz. Turns out this is just some foreign word for navy Beans. I have casually wondered about that since I first read All Quiet On The Western Front, some fifty+ years ago. In the book the protagonists stole a big pot of Haricot Beans and ham and snuck it back to their squad. It was about the only funny part of that book. Anyhow, if you don't want to use bacon (and what is wrong with you?) ham works almost as well, there is just no grease for the dogs' kibble.

I have been waiting for my son in law to E-mail the pictures from last Saturday's shooting expedition, we took William shooting for the first time. The boy is seven. I had his dad saw two one inch pieces off the original stock of my little Ruger 10/.22 and we put that and the stock barrel back on it. The stock barrel does not shoot near as well as the $300.00 Shilen target barrel, imagine that. Anyhow, if I ever get those pictures I'll post a full report. William, being as small as he is, I thought sure he worldn't want to shoot the .38 and .357 small frame revolvers, nor my Colt Single Action Army clones in .45 Colt. Shows what I know. That boy just loved that Colt Clone and the little S&W Mod 60 five shooter .38. He didn't like the Ruger SP101 .357, though, the grip was a bit too big for his little hands. Naturally, I did not use any heavy kicking loads in those revolvers, there will be time for that when he's in his mid teens.

Seems it ought to be time to eat but the beans aren't done yet.

Bugz And Gas!

Between sitting around drooling on myself from the pills and working my fingers to the bone taking care of Linda Lou and the dog critters I have been trying to figure out what the heck the pencil neck in chief means by this new nuclear posture.

The old one was simple, use WMDs on the United States or her closest allies and risk the full fury of her armed forces, up to and including the biggest thermonuclear weapons in our inventory. And, because we have pledged not to use biowar and chemwar our military doctrine has been a bug= a gas= the Bomb.

Here is my problem with this new "posture", which looks a lot like groveling from here. Gearing up to build nukes is very expensive and hard to keep secret. I'm pretty sure if the nutcases running Iran had put the resources they've sunk into trying to make the Bomb and the delivery systems, their economy would be flush and their people happier.

Chemical and Biowar, on the other hand, are cheap. Any country with a medical research program can, instead, make bioweapons. After all, if one is set up to study germs and virus, one can make them. As a matter of fact, to study them one nearly always makes them.

Chemical weapons are even cheaper. A High School Chemical class has all the equipment needed to make enough Chlorine Gas to kill the heart of a city. For the cost of just one main battle tank a country could make up the lab to send bioweapons throughout the USA and her allies. Nor does one even need those fancy fake shaving cream cans from that Tom Clancy novel. There are several highly contagious diseases for which few of us are immunized. Plague, for instance. Round up a couple of hundred would be suicide bombers only instead of filling their BVDs with explosives and taping the wicks to their weenies, shoot them up with the bug de jour and send them to the USA, Europe, Australia, etc. No bombs, no skulking about the reservoirs, just ride the subways and buses during rush hour until too sick to get out of bed, then die. Even if they end up going to the hospital instead of dropping dead during rush hour, they've done their damage, everyone they've been close to is now spreading those same bugs.

Suppose your part of the HateAmerica club is short on Jihadis willing to kill themselves? No worry, simply get a hundred kilos or so of uncut Heroin. make the first cut some Plague or Anthrax, maybe some Smallpox and slip it in, a couple kilos at a time into the already established pipelines. America's and Europe's junkies will do the rest.

Now the reasons that folks like the Castro brothers or Qaddafi or any number of other bad guys have not done something like this already have nothing to do with their well known Christian charity but fear, raw, naked fear. The Mad Mullahs of Iran have no problem sending others to their deaths, they, however, cling to life. They all have held off simply because they all knew that a chemical is a bug is a nuke. They do not know that anymore.

A conventional response to a biowar attack is manpower intensive. The manpower might be short if, say, the 3rd Infantry Division and First Armored riddled with Plague. Yet at least some of our Missile Subs are at sea, ready to turn a foe's home into a radioactive desert. Our jughead in Chief has removed that possibility. Funny, my children do not live at the Jihadi's ultimate ground zero, his do. So does he. Idiot.

Quiet Time

I just noticed that I haven't posted anything since my birthday, March 28. I hurt my back getting Linda Lou up that too short, too steep ramp the day she came home from the hospital. When I finally got to the back doc he gave me pills that have really made me slow, stupid and sleepy. Add that Linda Lou has taken full advantage of being a pore helpless cripple and is doing her best to work my fingers to the bone...

I should post a picture of my bony fingers. Anyhow, I will eventually get back into the swing of things. Right now, instead of reading blogs and writing I am watching old reruns of Law and Order SVU and Major Case as well as NCIS. These pills make the stupidity of what Hollywood thinks cops do look almost okay. I have not, however, fallen so far as to watch wrestling, that's something.

Anyhow, I should eventually get far enough along in my physical therapy that I can discard these pills. Until then, well, I miss you.

Grimmest Economic News Yet!

In more news that the economy is going south farther than in 1929-1940, the Marlin Firearms company is closing it's doors next year. This is a company that started in 1870, survived the great depression, as well as several of the big financial panics of the late 19th Century and is still (but not for long) making the oldest continuously produced shoulder arm in the world, the Marlin 39A. This little rifle, alas, is beyond the means of most .22 shooters, having been developed back when rifles were built with lots of hand fitting.

Marlin, today is built mainly around the old fashioned shootin' irons, lot's of neat little .22 rifles and, in centerfire, lever actions. The post Obama election gun boom has mainly been in handguns and autoloading rifles, especially the AR-15 clones. Unfortunately few people today know that one can shoot a good lever action apractice and who take the time to aim.

The rise of Cowboy Action Shooting had given Marlin a new lease on life for a few years, until the Italian clones of the 1866 and 1873 Winchesters became more popular. These rifles are not nearly so strong as the Marlin, or the '92 Winchester clones, due to their design they can't really take pressures much higher than the black powder levels of the 1880s but, due to the "short stroke" kits that SASS allows, they are faster to operate. Nobody in the Cowboy Action Matches much cares about the added weight and low power of these rifles. Most of us who use the rifles for competition, hunting and as a long arm for defense, choose a different gun, either the various Winchester 1892 clones or one model or other of the Marlin 1894.

I have a special fondness for the Marlin 1894 Carbines, as opposed to their rifles with the octagonal barrels, I like the light weight and effortless balance. My little 1894C Carbine is only thirty-six inches long and weighs six pounds. It holds nine .357 Magnum rounds or ten .38 Specials. It is the perfect companion for the person who wears a .357 or .38 revolver. The same is true for the 1894 in .44 for those who like the bigger hole in the barrel.

The 1894 Cowboy rifles are half a pound heavier, other than that they are just as nice. They also come in .45 Colt which the regular 1894s do not come in.

Also going, alas, are the 336 models in .30-30 and .35 Remington. These were the major competition for the Winchester 94 in .30-30, .32 Special and .25-35, which is also defunct.

The demise of Marlin also means that H&R will be gone as they were swallowed up by Marlin some time back, there goes the inexpensive break open single shot rifles and shotguns.

It's pretty sad, more and more, the gun industry, which we once lead, is now moving to Italy and China.

So, Now We Find Out

Well, it's time we find out whether or not we are the sons and daughters of the men who stormed the beaches at Normandy and Tarawa and the women who built the airplanes and the ships or if our courage has been bred out of us. We'll find out in November.

Obama, Reid and Pelosi think we have somehow become Frenchmen, that we'll take any insult from "our betters" in government. I say different. We have the ballot. Since the government clowns fail to listen to us we will speak with our votes. If, however, they keep pulling tricks like that unfunny clown Franken, we have other means to make them listen. Listen they will, though, whether they want to or not.

It is interesting to see that some on the left are claiming that the Tea Partiers in Washington shouted racial epitaphs at congresscritters on their way to vote in that stacked deck. Oddly, though, Representative Jesse Jackson, Junior was recording the whole thing on one of those little video cameras. One would think if such a thing had happened, the left would be filling the airwaves with the videos. Since they aren't I question the veracity of such statements. More importantly, I question the motives of those making such statements.

Leftists have been telling lies for generations now. With everyone carrying cell phone cameras and cheap video cams those lies have been exposed, over and over. They may want to claim that our side are the racists, meanwhile we know that the loudest voices shouting "nigger!" at a Tea Party event were when those SEIU thugs were beating Kenneth Gladney.

The Democrats have thrown a gauntlet at our feet, after slapping us with it. They think we'll take it. Somehow, I think different.

Kinda Dopey

I went to see a back doctor Thursday, a real adventure as Linda Lou didn't want to be left alone for so long. It started with getting Linda Lou out onto the deck with her walker, then into her chair, down that too steep ramp and then back onto the walker and into the van, then walker and wheelchair into the van. Whew! Naptime! Whoops! Plus Bee Eye Eng Gee Oh! We couldn't go without Bingo T. Pug, now could we?

Anyhow, no time for a nap, we had to drive to Rockwall, TX to one of the offices of the Texas Back Institute. Fortunately we were nice and early because we had the same rigmarole getting Linda Lou out of the car. Once we got in I had about five X-rays on my neck and back and then into an examining room where I met my Doc, who turned out to be a surgeon.

He explained that I have some fairly serious Degenerative Arthritis. I answered with something along the lines of "No scatological expletive, Sherlock, what was your first clue?" The bottom line is I'll see a non-surgical Doc on my follow up visits, and I got some fairly stout muscle relaxants and some pain pills. I am also supposed to go for some physical therapy but that isn't until after Linda Lou is up and around. The Doc is a nice guy and realizes that I have enough on my plate right now.

We then went by the Kroger's over there, Linda Lou stayed in the car with Bingo. There are a few things Kroger's has that Wal-Mart doesn't. From there we went to the newest location of Half Price Books, so new they're not selling anything yet, just buying so they'll have something in stock when they open Monday. Too bad, there are no really good bookstores within about forty miles.

About then I was getting pretty sore so we only made two more stops, to Ded Bath and Beyond to buy a pillow for Linda Lou's wheelchair and Wal Mart for my scrip. Linda Lou got to go into Wal Mart because of the electric buggies they have, it's a lot less work, too, without having to get the wheelchair in and out of the van.

The new pills are making me really dopey, though. I shall not have much to say about anything until I am more acclimated to them or I'm done taking them. They are working though. After each dose wears off I can tell I have a little more range of motion in my neck and a little less pain in my lower back, plus I seem to be able to stand longer before those lower back muscles start to cramp. that should count for something. I am not sure that I'll still need these after a few more days.

Anyhow, that was my big adventure. Monday it's more doctor stuff, this time for Linda Lou. In other important news I made up a nice big cottage pie for a couple-three night's supper.

Tiring

It doesn't help that my back has been hurting ever since I pulled Linda Lou up that way to steep ramp so she could come in the house. Not that I have ever particularly wanted a girl so skinny she could bathe in a shotgun barrel.

I have been just flat wore plumb to the bone since Linda Lou came home. Luckily we don't have a slew of kids still at home, just taking care of her and the dogs, plus me, is more than I cared for, really. Oh well, we do what we must, sometimes it's just more work than we expect. I keep reminding myself that someday the situation will be reversed.

Yesterday we got a visit from a county social worker, there will be a volunteer crew out soon to rebuild the ramp. She also checked to find out if Linda Lou's health insurance would rent her a wheelchair, which was delivered that same afternoon. All without that jug eared idiotic Chicago thug "helping". And Michelle didn't help push her from the real hospital to a "neighborhood clinic", either.

I really wish I could have gone to Washington, DC for that big shindig today but even without the broken bone issues, neither of my Senators, nor my House Rep did, or would, vote for this monstrosity. That's something.

Well, while I was whining about all my troubles, here on the blog, my Linda Lou got on her cell phone and made an appointment with her back doctor for me. So I see them day after tomorrow. Somehow that seems faster than under government run health care would be.

Anyhow, nothing much to say, I'm working my way through a mountain of laundry with Linda Lou's instructions. I do a lot better with her instructions but don't tell her that, she'd get the big head.

Home With The Armadillos

It was The Big Day. I started by doing just enough last minute housework to keep Linda Lou from killing me over the state of the house and, remember, we keep house with a long handled pitchfork. Then I finally went out and cleaned the inside of the windshield with Windex, I just couldn't stand it any more.

I got to the hospital right about the time Linda Lou told me to be there, only to discover I was late. Marriage is one of the few institutions where a man can get in trouble for doing exactly as he is told. Once I got there I started thanking Heaven that I had been bringing the laundry home every visit. I made the mistake of taking Linda Lou everything she asked for, forgetting how she takes four suitcases on an overnight trip. Plus one pair of clean socks for me. Anyhow a nice nurses aide (they have a different title now which I disremember) brought me a cart and, eventually, I got everything loaded and on the elevator and down I went, Linda Lou following in her wheelchair.

I simply cannot say enough about the many acts of kindness and caring by the whole staff of Hunt County Memorial Hospital. They have been simply wonderful and I shall go to my grave thanking them. I also have a little something to say about "America's unaffordable and inferior medical system." Now I know that Michelle O. spent a lot of time making good money steering the poor away from what is alleged to be a first class hospital up there in Chicago but then, from what I've read, there is nothing at all honest or first class in that whole county.

Down here in Texas a lower middle class woman can break a couple of bones on the 24th of February and stay in the hospital until the 12th of March, mainly getting physical therapy until she can work her way about the house, unassisted by anything but her walker, which was paid for by our insurance.(along with everything else, so far.

So, after all the loading of baggage and Linda Lou into the car we had to wend our way home. First stop was the prescriptions at Wally World, since she needed them today we got one of the electrical carts for her to sit in and it must have been a Toyota. Every time she pushed the button the wrong way it went backwards instead of forwards or vice versa. Imagine that. She eventually got it straight in her head though. Meanwhile I got milk and such, plus a few of those big Marie Callender's Pot Pies. From there it was over to Brookshires, which for some reason I still call Minyards, they are each medium sized supermarkets which are usually more expensive than Wally World but they have good sales. I bought a couple more of their angus Beef Top Sirloin Steaks for the freezer plus four boxes of maple sausage links and somne pints of ice cream, all on sale.

Lastly a quick stop for Linda Lou's cheeseburger and Tots, another stop to pay the water bill and home! The very start of getting from the car to the house was made more difficult than it should have been by all the rain we've been having, the ground was soft and the "feet" of the walker were trying to sink. then, as I had feared, the ramp is too steep. We finally got Linda Lou's four wheeled walker that she bought some time back, mainly so she always would have a place to sit on trips, onto the ramp, she backed up and sat down and with her pushing with her good foot and me pulling, got her to the deck and then we got her other walker and into the house. Well, except we had to open the door to an hysterical Bingo. Pug. Ming the Merciless just laid in her little doggie bed and barked until Linda Lou was in her chair and had her in her lap. Meanwhile I brought the groceries and some of the luggage in, the rest can sit in the car until I bring it in.

Anyhow, it was an adventure but we've got her home. Thank you Hunt County Memorial and thank you, Lord.

Training Day.

Well, today I have to go back to the hospital without any of the dogs. It's the day the Physical Terrorists are going to be teaching Linda Lou to get from the walker into the van so that she will be able to come home Friday.

Please forgive me if today's post is a little disjointed...I took my today's morning pills last night instead of my night time pills. Then when I woke up and wondered what was wrong I noticed it and then stayed up for an hour or three, and took my night time pills without the sleep aid and antidepressants which also help me to sleep.

It was an adventure last night, I stopped and bought a shower transfer bench yesterday and, when I got it home, discovered that the assembly directions were written by Latvians, then translated into Chinese by someone only casually familiar with each language, then translated from the Chinese into English by a Turk who was unfamiliar with Chinese. There were, perhaps, some Urdu speakers involved.

Anyhow, an easy, fifteen minute job took an hour and a week's ration of ugly words, with the dogs hiding. Well, CAP was out in the backyard being a Mud Monster. Bingo, though, may have been abused or maybe he's just sensitive. Whenever I raise my voice he is sure he's done something awful and hides from the coming punishment. In his whole life with us he's never once been hit with anything although I've threatened him with a map of Colorado. And maybe Nebraska, I have a map of Nebraska that I've paddled CAP a few times. They pay attention when you tell 'em they're gonna get beat with Nebraska!

The ramp is built. Trouble is, I think it may be too steep. I do believe, though, that I can take a few more boards and tie it together to make the ramp five or, maybe, ten feet longer with would lesson the angle. This will be a fairly easy job, run some 2x4s underneath to tie the two sections together and, viola! A longer ramp, less steep. Until then, I'll have to stand behind and push or, going down, stand in front of and brake. While all of this goes on I'll try to be too polite to mention that none of all this would be needed had she only not tripped over thin air in an empty hallway.

Keep Out! Construction Zone.

I have the lumber for the ramp to replace the front steps now. Who knew lumber was so expensive these days? I mean lumber grows on trees! I didn't buy enough lumber for the whole world, two 2x10s, two 2x12s and one 4 x4 four and two 2x4s, those last for bracing. Plus a box of wood screws. One hundred and fifteen dollars! If construction wasn't dead we could have snuck 'round and, nah, no sense in me getting shot.

Who, precisely, do we have to thank for this? I wasn't buying old growth redwood or the Cedars of Sinai, I was buying plain, treated lumber. I suspect the Greenies. Somehow, we ordinary Americans need to convince Washington to listen to us for a while instead of every idiot "environmental group", mostly each of those groups consisting of three people and a fax machine, cranking out press releases having nothing to do with the real world. Is that spotted owl family (the ones that only live in old growth forest) still living in that K-Mart sign?

Anyhow, my pal Steve is coming over to do the skilled labor on this ramp contraption. We are using the 2x10s and 2x12s together to make a 44 inch wide ramp, that's what will go between the stairway bannister's. I have a few concrete blocks around and the neighbors have this pile of scrap lumber for additional bracing. I figure we're building a ramp for the ages.

Linda Lou is being discharged from the hospital on this coming Friday. It's high time. I find myself talking to her because I forget she's not sitting in her little chair by the desk. I've been telling her, several times a day, that I like coffee, for instance, just in case she forgets. For a while it made her mad, now she realizes it's just another running joke. I also tell her how I like pie but I don't get that as often as I do coffee.

Anyhow, I'm not used to being single anymore and I'm certainly not used to washing ladies' undergarments. Guy's laundry is easy. White underwear in one pile, colored tee shirts and blue jeans in another and everything else to the cleaners. Just be careful not to get into the great shop towel war with your guy roommates so you don't end up with all pink underwear. (Don't ask how I learned that.) One fairly new red shop towel will turn a whole load of underwear pink and I don't care how much bleach you put in, it takes a bazillion washings for it to be white again. But I digress.

I miss Linda Lou, the dogs miss Linda Lou and, even though I've taken the Pugs with me twice now, it's not the same. Cochise' Apache Princess also misses Linda Lou and I reckon we're stuck with her. Oh well, we'll just have to be extra careful. I'll just have to put CAP out whenever Linda Lou has to get up and wander around with her walker.

Well, it's Sunday morning and I'll be doing some work. I do believe that means I can have french toast and Little Sizzler sausages without penalty. And, if there is a penalty anyway, poo on it.

At Least Two Senators Dead And Nothing In The News!

Senator Bunning tried to make the Senate obey it's own rules to no avail. It was hard to believe Bunning would actually change things. After all, no one ever expects Democrats to follow the laws they themselves passed. Not when they can instead sit around talking about Republican being hypocrites.Turns out that a lot of Washington Republicans are hipocrites, though.

My two Senators, John Cornyn and Kay Baily Hutchinson, along with every other Republican Senator let Bunning twist slowly in the wind. The amazing thing is that every time Cornyn and Hutchinson talk to Texas they talk about what great fiscal conservatives they are. Here they had their chance and nothing. Nothing. Did they both die and since they are lowly Republicans the Washington Press Corpse didn't find it important enough to print. I would rather believe that than believe that Cornyn and Hutchinson are a couple of lying scumbags who talk one thing in Texas and do quite another thing up there in DC.

That's the problem. The whole Republican delegation in the United States Senate talked about fiscal responsibility. Over and over. At every election cycle. And then? Jim Bunning, alone. Sure, if the entire Republican caucus hadn't died and fought, instead, they would have lost. In losing, though, they would have sent a message to the electorate. An electorate that would have remembered in November. Too bad they died.

Texas Independence Day, Election Day and Other Stories.

I was back into my usual routine, still hadn't gone to bed and was getting ready to go vote and do a little shopping, then home to bed and up in time to go see Linda Lou at the hospital.

So, about 9:00 AM I was dressed and Bingo T. Pug and I went out to go. Bingo wanted to vote in Linda Lou's place and I had her voter registration card. First thing out of the box, flat tire. At least yesterday's rain had blown out but, with the wind straight out of the north, it was no fun. Even less fun is that Linda Lou has the cell phone with her so I couldn't even call the road service...

It was an open question for awhile, which would come first, a coronary or the donut spare put on and the flat put into the back. To make matters worse, the flat had rolled through some fresh dog poop. Some of you might be glad to know that I did not die, It might have been close but sorry, kids, you'll have to wait a while longer for your vast inheritance.

We finally got to the voting place, also known as a local church's special events building. The first thing I did was wash the tire goo off my hands in the "boys room". I then showed my card and voted by machine, most everybody likes those paper ballots but, hey, I'm a 21st Century kind of guy.

The Donks were also having their primary in that same room, on the other side. This is not necessarily indicative of all the precincts all of the day, all over the State, but I walked in, there were one couple at our table, getting signed in, nobody at the Donks. I washed my hands and still, nobody at the Donk's side. A new pair of voters at my side's table. I voted, told 'em about Linda Lou and said that Bingo would be glad to vote in her place, they said fine but he'd have to use the machine and no help. Eh, he probably would have voted for that truther Paultard, Medina, anyway.

From there we went to the tire shop, it took some forty-five minutes but away we went with a fresh tire and I remembered that it was Texas Independence Day so I rolled into the WalMart parking lot singing Texas, Our Texas at the top of my lungs. Bingo must have been mad 'cuz he couldn't vote because he cowered away, it couldn't have been my singing!

I got a big can of coffee, a gallon of milk and some assorted other stuff.
a can of salmon because my mama made salmon patties a lot and then I hadn't had any until I taught myself how to cook 'em. I'm not sure, after all these years, whether or not mine are as good as hers but they're good enough. I don't care how old I get, I still miss my Mama.

Anyhow, I drove home and went to bed about two-thirty or three. I brought CAP in but she had gptten so muddy in the puddles left over from the rain the day before that I put her back out, no WAY was I going to let the Mud Monster into bed with me. And, if she's in the house she at least starts the "night" in the bed. The muddy paw prints are out of control and her favorite places to lay end up covered in dried mud.

Had to get dogs, couldn't get some nice guppies, no! And the woman who said she wanted her hasn't called back so I guess that's out. Too bad.

I only spoke to Linda Lou over the phone a couple of times, depending on how tired I am after we clean out the gunroom and hallway I'll either go see her today or tomorrow. Dean doesn't know it yet but he is going home with my big Forster Bonanza Co-Ax Press will go home with him as well as the .30-06 dies and the Redding Benchrest powder measure. All he will need to load his own will be a powder scale for I am sending about a half tone of powder, bullets, cases and primers with him, as well as a couple of manuals.

I shall also speak to him about starting up a cast bullet business. I have a pal in the scrap metal biz, I think I can get enough scrap lead at a low cost, after all, he shoots the ammo I make for him.

Well, I slept until one AM and so my schedule is borked again. I must figure out a way to get back on a human schedule, I don't think I'm really meant to spend my declineing years as a vampire. Oh well, that was Texas Independence Day.

The Pugs Visited Their Mama!

I took Ming the Merciless and Bingo to see their Mama today. I got to the hospital and bundled Linda Lou into a wheelchair and off we went down the elevator and outside where they had a joyous reunion. This is where I discovered that the plan is that Linda Lou should stay in the rehab wing for TWO MORE WEEKS!!! Holy crows, I knew it was a bad break but two more weeks? Anybody know of a nice chubby girl whose hobbies are housecleaning and kinky sex?

The good news is that the county has a program to send someone out to handicap-ize the house, they'll raise a toilet and put grab rails on, and fix grab bars for the tub, plus put in a ramp. That will help a bunch.

Meanwhile I have no idea persactly how I'm going to be buying gas for daily visits to the hospital, some sixty+ miles round trip per day, we have been budgeting a tank and a half of gas a month lately. Well, I will figure something out.

Anyhow, Linda Lou is already working with the physical terrorists in the new wing, something over three hours today and this was a Saturday. I believe the pace will pick up during the week. She says she'll work extra hard so she can come home and torment me. All I know is that I'm plumb wore out from all this. As soon as she's healed I'm going to collapse and be bedridden for a month or so.

More Slow Progress

I showed up early to the hospital on my way to my Doc's appointment and they actually had Linda Lou sitting up in a chair. It takes a bit of effort getting her up and down but the hospital staff is very good at that. Maybe not so good at information but danged good at taking care of her.

Meanwhile the idiot in chief is doing his damnedest to remake our system into what the Brits face. Let's review: Linda Lou fell at about 4:30 on a Sunday morning. We live so far out in the country that we don't get the Grand Ol' Opry on the radio 'til Tuesday Afternoon. I had to mess with dogs and suchlike before I could go to the hospital, by the time I got there it was about 6:30 or 7:00, they'd already had her X-Rays and put her into one of those boot things and were working out a plan of attack.

They put her into a (private) room, the only kind they have in that section and, from there into surgery the very next morning where they inserted half a hardware store, two thirds of an oil derrick and, I believe, a 1992 Buick 3.8 Liter V-6 in there to hold those bones together. I may have some minor technical details wrong, medicine is not really my field, the important thing is that Linda Lou is getting as fine a medical care as anywhere in the world where, in Canada, where medical care is "free" she'd probably not have had her surgery yet..

She is getting visits from everybody in the hospital staff it seems, the Physical Terrorists a couple times a day, naturally her Doc and her Nurse, an aide, about half the days a student nurse, even a respiratory therapist to see that she's getting enough oxygen. That woman gave me an alarmed look when I told her we hardly ever watched that channel.

I left to go to my Doc's, having extracted permission to bring Linda Lou her favorite meal, a double cheeseburger and Tater Tots from Sonic (I'm not sayin' I married her because of the cheap date factor but...)

I got to my Doc's office and eventually saw the Doc hisownself instead of Amy, the PA that I normally see. Dunno why, I didn't argue though. The Doc and Amy see both of us, that's why they call it a family practice, I guess. So we spoke about me, he poked and prodded and, as expected, bent me over the table. They always give me a funny look when I carefully look to make sure the Doc doesn't have both hands on my shoulders during this process.

I'm too polite to ask why they have to reach around my lowest intestine before they can write my prescriptions but, what the hey, I got out with my scripts and an order for some fasting blood work and pee tests and off I went. I might walk better with that KY Jelly lubing up a friction point but am kind of leery about doing some kind of scientifical test. The good news is that there is an office of the Lab we use just a few blocks from the hospital.

From there I went to the supermarket and bought Linda Lou a six pack of her beloved Diet Pepsi and a package of blueberry scones and found a lemon chess pie on the marked down rack for me. Rigorous testing by one of the finest minds in the country (mine) has proven that marked down improves the flavor of almost anything.

From there a drive up to the county seat where the hospital is. I doubt many will care but we live on the very edge of our county and we seldom go there, the distance is more or less the same to where we normally go and there is much better shopping there. As far as we live from anything but pastures, lake and trees, we try to combine as many trips as possible. Anyhow it is close enough to make no nevermind which town is closer and it's actually about five miles closer to the county seat of the next county over the other way.

A quick stop for Linda's burger and back to the hospital only to discover that she had the catheter out, more progress! Linda Lou could not eat the whole burger but the dogs did not let it go to waste. Shortly after LL finished eating the Physical Terrorists showed up to help her back to bed. They told me she'd be moving to their lair in the hospital for the rest of her stay.

Shortly after that I left to come home, dropped my scripts off on the way and came home, let the Pugs out for their evening constitutional, then let CAP in and we all took a nap. Now, come morning, I get to try to bemember how to do a load of laundry and it's getting out of hand. Let's see, rule number one, do not wash my bright red shirts with my underwear...

So, we're muddling through. I think I have found a new home for Cochise Apache Princess, I'll know this weekend. I just can't take the chance of this hardly-trained monster dog and a Linda Lou barely able to navigate. Sigh. We're really too old for a dog her size, though, we'll stick with Pugs from here on out. What the heck, as long as the Pug can wake me up I can shoot the bad guy.

The IV Is Out, That's A Little Something

Those following the saga of Linda Lou's broken leg will be glad to know there is some small progress. When I got to the hospital they had removed Linda Lou's IV drip, oxygen tube and "that ball". "That ball" is, oddly enough, a clear ball containing a local anesthetic delivered to just above the leg. I was also in the room, just before I came home to feed the livestock, when they gave her the last dose of Hillbilly Heroin, Oxycontin. I'm not persactly sure what they will give her when that wears off but I'm glad that stuff is about over. Not that it doesn't work.

As an aside, I must say I am totally amazed about how Rush Limbaugh managed to stay coherent, as much of that stuff as HE was taking. Linda Lou kept falling asleep in the middle of a sentence, nay, a word!

I have no idea of when they will let her come home, the only word is that they will soon move her from the room she's in to a room in the physical therapy wing. The fuse is lit, burning slowly toward a major tantrum if somebody doesn't tell me what's going on soon. I have a doc's appointment of my own on Thursday, just a visit with my family practice Doc to get lectured about my diet and exercise (or lack thereof) and to refill my scripts.

Speaking of prescriptions, I finally figured out why Democrats hate the drug companies. I'm retired, getting social security. There are a few scripts that literally keep me alive. Without them I would die fairly soom, with them I may even have another ten-fifteen years. And THAT is why the Donks hate those drug companies, they keep us old folks alive, actually using those benefits they promised. If the drug companies would just let me die the Donks could wail and demand more money to prevent such horrible deaths, if only there were more midnight basketball courts!

But, I digress...When I get to the hospital tomorrow, after my Doc reaches up my backside far enough to examine my tonsils and wave at all her friends over on the next block, I'm hoping Linda Lou will be coherent enough to bring me up on what's happening. Then I'll tell you.

Surgery Was A Success, Medics Allege

I left the house right about my normal (?) for me bedtime and drove up to Greenville, by the time I'd got to the hospital they'd taken Linda Lou from the room. So we sat around, waiting. The twins (our youngest) had met and driven out, too. So we sat, I spent about half the time trying to stay awake and the other half worrying.

Afterr what felt like two weeks of waiting they brought a sleeping Linda Lou into the room. They had to open up her leg and put about half a hardware store in there, screws and plates and a rod and lord only knows what else. If only they could put something in there that reminds her to watch where she puts her feet.It's not like we just had that hall put in. Shut up, Peter, while you still have a chance to survive...

We have, as yet, no idea of when she can come home. The Doc expressed the thought that the bones would knit completely, that's something. I am really worried about her mental state, I think she fears that she will never be able to get around well enough to do for herself. Or, maybe just she's fearing that she won't be able to keep trying to put me in the poorhouse. It's all right, dear, there is always internet shopping!

Seriously, she seemed pretty depressed today, I hope it's just the residual effects of the General.Please keep up the prayers.

In proof of how tired I was, and am, I was unable to tell the left from the right. It is her right leg that is broken. More later.

Fun With Broken Bones

We went to our grandson William's Blue and Gold Banquet yesterday, we have a few pictures that will have to wait.

At 4:30 AM I was minding my own business, getting ready for my bedtime snack and all of a sudden tere was a big ol thud and scream in the hall behind me. Linda Lou had woken and on her way to the john, fell and broke the Tibia abd Fibula of her right leg, just above the ankle.

This kind of spoiled my whole bedtime although not near what it did to Linda Lou. There isn't much that made me feel more helpless in this life than waiting for the ambulance. I knew there was something seriously wrong just from the swelling and the pain to the touch.

Now that we've seen the X-Rays we know the breaks are bad. The Fibula, the smaller bone in the back of the calf is a fairly simple break, the Tibia looks like a spral fracture. They will be going in and putting a plate and a rod in, probably tomorrow (Monday, 22 February.)

Anyhow, prayers would be welcome. Now that we are in our sixties we don't heal like we used to.

Cast Bullet Softness And Hardness Versus Velocity And Pressure

It's been almost forever since I wrote something about shooting here. Stupid winter. Stupid poverty. Stupid health.

I figure I might ramble on a bit about cast bullets. The art of jacketed handgun and rifle bullets is well known, the art of lead handgun and rifle bullets is rapidly being forgotten and that is a shame. A bigger shame, of course, is the way lead has been demonized but that is another story. Well, just a mention, y'all know how lead shot was banned for waterfowl a couple decades back because of the claim that ducks and geese were eating spent shot from the bottom of lakes and using it like gravel in their gizzards to help digest their food, thus being poisoned? This led us to steel shot which, being lighter, wounded more ducks and geese to die later, uncollected. Naturally though, wounded critters do not count toward the bag limit so, where is the gain? Some mighty savvy gunnies, including that grand old man of the shooting sports, Elmer Keith, claimed that we could have eliminated the problem(?) of lead poisoning simply by using larger, heavier shot for all waterfowl. Their claim was that simply by going up to number five shot as a minimum would make the shot sink a bit deeper, eliminating the poisoning problem(?), instead we got steel shot. And now a bunch of others, many costing well over two and three dollars a shot. This also leads to cripples, at three bucks a shot, how much practice do most of the shooters get? And even the fellers (and gals) who do practice, say on the trap and skeet fields, shoot the cheaper lead shot which has a slightly different drop and lead factor. Sigh.

Anyhow, about cast and swaged bullets. The most important thing about them is that the hardness or "temper" of the bullet must match the pressure and velocity of the load. The second thing to remember is that if one gets very far off, leading becomes a miserable problem. Oddly, too hard a bullet will lead as badly as too soft a bullet. A bullet that is too hard will not obdurate or swell up to seal all the powder gases behind the base. This means that those very hot gasses get to blow the lube out of the bullet's lube groove(s) and also melt bits of the lead allow which then sticks to the cooler barrel. This builds up fairly quickly and soon accuracy is lost. Not to mention the joy of scrubbing those big lumps of lead out of the barrel.

Too soft is also a problem although one can drive a fairly soft bullet out of a handgun with little lead at surprisingly high velocities. The dirty little secret is that most commercial casters concentrate on making their bullets easy to make and easy to ship so they arrive to the final shooter nice and pretty. They are also only really good for high velocities, 'way past the capabilities of, say, the .38 Special or standard .45 Colt and other cartridges where the standard velocities are less than 1,000 feat per second.

This, of course, is the range that some 75% of handloaders strive for since the vast majority of handloaded rounds are simply made for fun. These days, for instance, almost all the shooting I do is a Cowboy Action matches where all handgun ammo must be under 1,000 fps and most is lower, a lot lower. The recent hoo rah over velocity finally made a rule that no revolver bullet may go less than 400 fps and that all our reactive targets be set to fall at a 100 grain weight bullet striking at 600 fps or a 200 grain slug at 400. I shoot the standard weight .45 slug of 255 grains or, cast from my alloy 248. I could almost throw one of those fast enough to knock the target down. While I'm digressing, I have never seen them set up a chronograph at a club match and, when the sun was at the right angle I have actually seen some of the bullets in flight.

Muzzle loaders and cap and ball revolver shooters load pure lead, usually. This, the softest of bullet metals is good enough for those velocities. A black powder arm when properly cleaned at the start and used within the limits, will have no leading. The Pards in my club that shoot cap and ball revolvers can shoot a six stage match , sixty rounds total with one cap and ball revolver, switching cylinders to get to the ten rounds per stage, and have zero leading.

The next step up from pure lead is a small amount of tin mixed in the alloy. This is good for all standard handgun rounds and the big black powder rifle cartridges of the buffalo hunter days. The usual range of tin in the lead is one to forty to one to twenty. Saint Elmer of Keith used one in twenty for just about everything, including the .44 Magnum and his earlier attempts to "magnumize" the .44 Special.

This one in twenty alloy is good for even over the normal limit of 1200-1400 fps possible in the big cartridges like .45-90 and pretty much all normal handgun cartridges like the .38 and .357, the .44s, etc. This alloy will run out of steam and start leading badly in things like the .454 Casull Mag, .500 S&W Mag, things like that. In other words, even the "standard" magnum cartridges like the .357 and .44 have to be loaded at the very top of their capabilities to make these bullets match the pressure and velocities. Not one shooter in a thousand runs the mags at full charge every shot. After all, that's hard on the gun and hard on the shooter.

It's not just the recoil, either. Even with the best hearing protection available, a full load .44 Mag is hard on the hearing. There is a reason I do not watch much TV or listen to much radio. I started shooting before hearing protection was common. The BOOM! of the low pressure rounds like the .38 Special wadcutter loads, the standard .45 Colt or .44 Special, even the .45 ACP was easier to take than the hot .357 Mags, the old high pressure .38s, the .38 Super, etc. When it came to rifles, anything hotter than the .30-30 would have my ears ringing for days, even with the old chewed up Kleenex or toilet paper wadded into the ears. Of course, in those days everything was power for me. It took a lot of years before I figured out that all the bullet had to do was amble on down for 25 or 50 yards, often a lot less and fight it's way, somehow, through a sheet of paper wand some light backing, maybe a tin can and it was all done. No, in those days, everything was loaded up to stop a charging bank vault in it's tracks. It's funny. In all my born days I've never been charged by a bank vault. I digress, again.

The next step is a lead tin antimony alloy. In these the antimony does the hardening and there is usually just a tad of tin. In these alloys the tin is just used to make casting easier. There is some long metallurgical explanation for this and I have read it many times, usually either falling asleep or getting a headache. Truth is, I don't need to understand it to use it. I used to shoot a lot of wheelweight metal, cast into bullets. Wheelweights are (or were, this is fast changing) lead and antimony. By itself, wheelweight metal makes for some pretty good bullets for the 800-1000 fps loads only there are a lot of rejects going back into the pot. By adding one pound of tin to some forty pounds of cleaned and fluxed wheelweight metal the reject rate is almost zero. I could use this alloy for just about all of my smokeless powder shooting for the rest of my life and be happy.

The next level is about the hardest practical cast bullet alloy, linotype metal. This runs about 84% lead, 12% antimony and 4% tin. This is good for the highest pressure and velocity, with a gas check on the base and good lube these bullets can get up over 2600 fps in rifles. There are harder lead alloys but they tend to shatter on game.

There is one other place where lino is about the best metal for bullets, the standard autoloading pistols. This may not be the "best" metal alloy for the pressure and velocity but the self stuffers are hard on a bullet. The ride in the magazine is bad enough, every time the gun recoils the rounds in the mag bang back and forth, plus being forced up by the follower and mag spring, then the trip from magazine to chamber. After all that the gun goes BANG! Then the poor bullet hits that shallow rifling, meant for jacketed bullets. The softer alloy that is fit for, say, the pressure and velocity of a .40 S&W or a .45 ACP, would skid about halfway up the barrel, causing it's own leading. So the autoloaders require a harder bullet metal than they would otherwise use.

A trick to reduce leading in autoloading pistols is to use a wad of the right size. I use Walter's Wads although you can buy gasket materiel and make your own with the right size punch. This works even better with a small ball of bullet lube on top of the wad, this takes out the gas that would ordinarily try to blow by the bullet base. Most hand loaders don't bother, though, they simply scrub the lead or use jacketed bullets. Walters does not seem to have a website but his stuff is available through Midway, there on my side panel, plus a bazillion other places.

I am lucky enough to have a Pard in the scrap business. I "pay" for my lead and tin with bullets and loaded ammo so I can cast my bullets to the hardness that suits my needs. Folks that buy their bullets are a little less lucky. The best outfit selling bullets to shoot, rather than bullets to ship is Desparado Cowboy Bullets. These folks make the bullets that shoot easy, right up 'til about 1000-1100 fps. Not only are they great for cowboy action and paper punching but They'd be just the thing to have in your shootin' iron if a critter of the size your cartridge is good for happens along. I mean small critters if you're carrying a .32, .38, something like that or dear if you have a .357 or .45 Colt, or even a bear with the right load. Nor would I feel naked before my enemies if I had a revolver stuffed with these.

All of these bullets are soft, meaning they'll expand some, they are the round nose flat point type. In other words, instead of the old, reliable semi wadcutters that work great in revolvers but tend to hang up in a lever rifle, these have the round nose profile that feeds well, except the point is flat. We have found that this profile hits as hard as the semiwadcutter and penetrates just as straight through whatever bone and tissue it meets. If I did not cast my own, these folks would get all my business. I haven't been a customer of theirs, I tried a hundred rounds of ammo that I loaded with their bullets in a complicated trade. All I can say about them is that their bullets are as good as my best. And I'm pretty ruthless in my quality control, being retired and all. It's no trick to sitting for three hours, listening to Rush on the radio and casting a whole slew of bullets in my six cavity Big Lube Mold plus another slew of semiwadcutters for my .38s and .357s.

Another nice, soft bunch of bullets are the swaged lead bullets. I sometimes use the Remington swaged lead bullet in my .45s. With smokeless powder these bullets are wonderful. The lead is so soft that they slug up to fit the bore so there is never iny undue leading, at least up to the maximum the original .45 Colt rounds are designed for, about 950 fps or so. Do not disparage this "low" velocity, this round and this bullet will go right through both sides of an elk. The only downside to these wonderful bullets is the odd, flaky black lube on 'em. This lube works well but is kind of messy. Do not wear your best clothes will loading these bullets. And, once the ammo is loaded, take a few minutes and wipe the noses of the loaded ammo before using it, or even putting it in the box. This bullet is also great with black powder, just smear a dab of black powder lube in that slight hollow base and seat it over a wad. The ugly black lube on the bullet will last for a gunfull or two in a revolver but you'd have a real mess in your carbine. That big dab of lube, though, is just what you'll need.

There is one more, really big advantage to the soft cast or swaged bullets. In the action shooting games we shoot at steel targets. The hard bullets break up on the target and bullet fragments bounce all over. It is not unheard of that they draw blood on a competitor or spectator. The soft bullets mostly hit and spread out, expending all their energy in deforming against that hard steel. Then, energy spent, they fall. Most soft bullets are found laying there, within a few feet from the targets.At my club you'll find guys going around where the targets were with buckets, collecting those spent bullets. Why they're saving the environment from a horrible poison that just happens to come right out of the Earth but, once it's out it's an affront to Mother Gaia. They have an odd prayer to Mother Gaia, though. If you listen close you'll hear them say things like this will cast enough bullets for the next six months! Oh well, it must be some foreign language that only sounds like English. All Hail Gaia!

There are other fine soft swaged lead bullets.I'm partial to the Hornady and Speer swaged lead hollowpoints in the .38s, it's easy to work up a load just like the old FBI load, that soft lead bullet going about 900 fps from a service revolver. I have a three inch Ruger SP101 that I carry when I think I might need a little more gun than the Model 60 S&W Chief's Special .38. I have yet to convince one of the small ammo companies to make a load just for these small .357s, no luck so far. If you live where the judge worries more about why you shot the bad guy than whether or not you used a handload, a Speer or Hornady 158 grain lead semiwadcutter hollowpoint in front of 5.7 grains of Alliant's Bullseye Powder and a standard primer will give right at 1000 fps out of that three inch barrel. The recoil is very controlable, too and, bullseye being a fast burning powder, the muzzle flash is nice and low.

There are a few others, GOEX Powders has taken over the Black Dawge Bullets sales. I haven't used them but they look interesting. Their .45 handgun bullets and .38s match some weights used 'way back when, the .38 is 145 grains, much like the old .38 S&W cartridge used and the .45s are 235 grains, just about exactly what the old Cavalry load was. Load that up in front of 28-30 grains of FFG Black and not only will you have the load the Indian Fighters carried but also what went to the troops in the Philippine Islands when the local Moros took a bunch of those .38 Colt bullets and kept coming in, swinging those Bolo Knives and chopping a lot of soldiers to doll rags. They mostly fell down and stopped their antiAmerican ways when hit with the .45s.

This is also the load that John Browning copied in then modern materials to make the .45 Automatic Colt Pistol round, a short, rimless case and a nice hard jacketed round nose slug going just about as fast as that old Indian fighting load, 830 fps.

Funny, though, after a whole lot of years where the .45 acp round settled a lot of close up fights the military, in all it's wisdom, decided to go with a full jacketed 9mm load. Of course, as all the real gunnies said, that full jacketed load is about as effective in settling fights as that old .38 Colt. So, now all the Special Ops people are carrying .45s and everyone else who can put their hands on them also carry them. It's quite another story but the best hollow point rounds in 9mm, which our troops are forbidden because it is against the Hague Convention, which the bad guys never signed, is every bit as effective as the best .45 rounds. That's another story, though, since our troops can't carry the best ammo. It's some kind of rule the big brass, who no longer ever hear a shot fired in anger, have. We can't use the effective ammo while the bad guys can, except most all of them are spraying those AK rounds all over. Fortunately for us, most of them still believe that the harder they yank the trigger, the harder the bullet hits. I suppose it is racist to call a bunch of ignorant savages ignorant savages but still... It's bedtime, I have to go to a grandson's Blue and Gold Banquet. I wouldn't mind so much if I could go without going to town.

Pork

It's supposed to get more normal around here temperature wise, that's a little something. The bad news is that just about the time the mud from the melted snow dries out, we're supposed to have some rain. I have not been able to bring CAP into the house when she didn't have mud all over her for two months now.

I roasted a pork loin today, trying this recipe from the 'net. All recipes.com if it matters. Balsamic roasted pork loin. I had this five+ pound pork loin and so had do do some jiggering with the recipe, considering that it called for a two pound loin. I reckon they used piglets. Anyhow, here is the recipe as posted:

Two pound pork loin
One half cup balsamic vinegar
One half cup olive oil
two tablespoons steak seasoning rub.

Stir the steak seasoning into the vinegar and keep stirring until it's dissolved. Then mix in the oil. Put the loin into a resealable plastic bag and pour the marinade mix over it. Let it marinade overnight and then put it in a pan. Put the pan into a preheated 350 degree F oven until it reaches 145 F internally, about an hour. Baste often. Let sit ten minutes before slicing.

This recipe is from someone named Melissa S. I do not know her nor anything about her. I will say that if this Melissa person is married her husband should be a happy man. If he ever treats her wrong he'd be dumb enough to pay Al Gore to teach him about climate. Just sayin'.

Anyhow, since I had no steak seasoning rub I simply took three tablespoons of garlic powder, some paprika, sage and thyme and some ground white pepper, regular pepper and a tad of salt. Never did hold with storebought seasoning rubs, not when I have spices aplenty in the cabinet.

Anyhow, I don't have to worry about lunch for a while, I'll have pork sammiches. I probably should have cut that thing in half before I put it in the freezer, a five pound loin is a lot of meat now that it's just us. Oh well, sammiches, pork with potatoes and applesauce, I'll make it go away. The dogs have volunteered to help if needed.

As anyone can see, I don't have much going on right now. More than anything, this is just to show that we're still alive.

Update 2/19/10: If I ever make this balsamic pork again it will be a smaller piece. It's good but then I thought about some hot pork sammiches. No gravy! Arrgh!

More Glow Bull Wurming Pictures

I was on my way to bed Friday morning and took some more pictures. I took a ruler out and measured the snow in a couple-three different places where it was flat, seems that it was about seven inches. Now for someplace up north like Minnesota or Maryland or Vermont* or some other dreary place that isn't Texas, seven inches of snow may not sound like much. Here, seven inches is a blizzard. Remember, folks, we get our blizzards at Dairy Queen.

At any rate we have had the most snowfall since the mid to late '70s when all the people (that were then alive) now screeching about global warming were nattering on about the coming ice age. Well, we didn't get the coming ice age and we aren't getting any man made global warming, either.

To believe in man made global warming one must also believe our ancestors caused all those other climate changes. The didn't and we aren't. This whole global warming cult is simply those who have given up their belief in God and jumped on a new religion, the Church of global Warming, Pope AlgoreI. Well, it's true that Pope AlgoreI has made quite a bit, somewhere around a billion dollars selling Papal indulgences, er, sorry, carbon offsets, to people who aren't real smart. Here is a guy who flunked out of law school and then left divinity school "voluntarily" just before they threw him out for grades. There are a lot of rumors about saying that he was really majoring in marijuana.

Well, anyhow, it's supposed to warm to the 50s today so I reckon this will be gone by tomorrow nite at the latest. I hope the folks in Dallas took their kids to Flagpole Hill and let them slide down on sleds, big pieces of cardboard or trashcan lids.

Update: I neglected to put the thought about the asterisk at the "northern states like Maryland or Vermont. I know full well that Maryland is not northern.

If anyone cares, clicking on the bottom photo to embiggen it will show the Cardinals at the bird feeder. Putting birdseed into that feeder put me into snow deep enough to have it slop into my boot. Ugh. Double ugh since I wasn't going to be out there very long so I just pulled those old boots on over bare feet.

I call them "old boots" because they are sort of old, they were my new Justin Ropers that George the German Shepherd puppy chewed to doll rags. The soles are still "pert near" brand new, after George chewed them I only wear them while I'm on the riding lawn mower or out in the mud. That chewing thing was in early 2006. Shortly after I bought those boots Justin changed the design of their basic Ropers and the heels are now molded as part of the rubber soles. Meh. Plus they're made in China now. I'm still waiting for my loyal readers to send me to China so I can check out the Chinese cowboys.

I know that pretty much all the religions tell us to forgive those who have done us wrong but, even so, I'm still waiting for my chance to um, show the creep that shot George the error of his ways. I hope this won't keep me from going to Heaven.

Southwestern Snowcopolypse!

It started snowing last night sometime and hasn't stopped yet. I haven't seen snow like this down here since the '70s. This was when all the academics were screeching and waving their arms about the next ice age and how we're all gonna die!

Ever notice how all these oh so smart people can never figure on human ingenuity? None of these hothouse flowers has ever managed to, oh, I don't know, take a trip and see that people are thriving everywhere from Point Barrow Alaska to Tierra del Fuego.

The climate is changing, of course. Which direction? Um. Let's see. We had the Little Ice Age. We had the Medieval Warming Period. I would say that we are coming off a little warm period, heading toward a cooler time but then, I could be wrong. What I know for sure is that it has nothing to do with anything we are doing. Man's industry is not annoying Gaia.

We, in the wealthier west, have cleaned up the environment tremendously. I'm old enough to remember not being able to see for the smog and rivers so polluted that they caught fire. This does not happen anymore, no matter that we are a lot more crowded than we were back then. I am really sick of the idiots on the left saying that we conservatives don't care about the Earth. Anyone with eyes can see the difference between where the left held sway and where the good guys held power. Take a look at the former East Germany and the former West Germany, even today. For that matter, take a look at Detroit and then Dallas. And even Dallas has slums where, oddly, everyone votes left.

Anyhow, our Snowcopolypse down here is nothing compared to what they're still going through northeast of here, prayers would be welcomed.

I only went out to fill the bird feeder and take poor Ming the Merciless out to pee and poop. She did not like it at all. Bingo T. Pug was not quite sure at first but started running around and barking. Cochise' Apache Princess was out there running around and biting great gobs of snow and just playing.

I do not think we'll have Ming much longer, she is really having difficulty moving. Most days I have to carry her down the steps from the deck to the ground. She can still get from her little doggie bed to the food and water bowls, though. On a nice day she still enjoys laying in the grass in the front yard, barking. She may not know persactly what she's barking at, just tellin' the whole world who the yard belongs to, I reckon. Anyhow, she's still enjoying life now, with a little help.

It was a day to stay in so I decided to invent a recipe. I had a package of skinless, boneless chicken breasts and half a back of egg noodles. So I browned the breast on a griddle with some butter and boiled the noodles. The noodles went into a casserole dish with a can of mushroom soup and a can of cream of celery soup with a bit under half a can of water each.I cut the chicken up into small pieces and mixed it in, added some spices and a package of steamed broccoli and cauliflower and an eight ounce package of sharp cheddar cheese on top.

Please don't tell me someone else has a recipe exactly like this somewhere, I was just going with what I had. It could use a bit more veggies and noodles, though or maybe I just didn't give enough chicken to the dogs. Anyhow, this is now going to be an official bad weather meal for me. The only bad news is that we don't have a nice chubby girl with the hobbies of cleaning up and kinky sex. Okay, okay, I'll settle for cleaning up.

Well, now it seems that Debra Medina is the next thing to a 9/11 troofer. The only complaint I've seen about Perry, besides the fact that lefties don't like him, is that he is in favor of that HPV shot for kids. While I kind of sympathize with those against making those shots mandatory I'm not going to fight very hard against someone for trying to make sure our young women grow up cancer free.

The thing about this vaccine is that it seems to protect against a cancer that most often happens to girls that engage in too much sex, too young. My life experience is such that the ones screaming "my daughter won't need that!" the loudest have the girls that need those shots the most. Okay, not every girl but, enough. Don't get me wrong, I'm for parent's rights. I'm against cancer, though and I think that is a little louder in my head.

I'm not trying to pick a fight with Medina followers. I, unless there is a huge surprise, will vote perry in the Primary. If, by some chance, Medina gets the nomination, I'll work hard for her election. I do not think she will, nor should, get the nomination, though. Still, anybody but KBH or a Donk.

Update: The dogs all think I didn't give them enough of the chicken and that's what was wrong with the casserole.

A Little Bit Of Bacon...

One of the things that makes living in "genteel poverty" bearable is Wright's Bacon Ends and Pieces. It comes in a three pound bag in a box and is very reasonably priced. Cut that thing in half, freeze half and fry the other enough to get most of the grease out, pour that grease over the dog's kibble and throw the mostly cooked bacon in a pot with two pounds of whatever beans you feel like eating. Add a couple of onions and in a while, make some cornbread or cornbread muffins. Or maybe some nice rye bread with lots of butter. And here I go, drooling on the keyboard again. This batch was pinto beans. I also have two pounds of great northerns for the other half of that bacon.

I can really hurt myself with those pinto beans, though. When I get down toward the bottom of the pot I get out the skillet and cook some sliced bacon or some sausage and then refry some of those beans in the oil. serve with eggs and picante. I do believe there may be a reason that I haven't seen my feet while standing in quite some time.

There sure is a lot of hoo raw over Sarah Palin writing a few words on her hand. I am not nearly as famous as Governor Palin but I have done a little public speaking. There is very little that is as embarrassing as standing before X number of people and get asked a question, only to suddenly draw a blank. Nor does one need a room temperature IQ to draw such a blank, it has happened to a lot of very smart people. Most times it is merely uncomfortable but in business it can cost a contract or a promotion, in politics it can be career ending.

I suspect that she had her speech all set up on those little index cards, idea one, idea two, etc. Then she had these few little bullet points for question time and feared that index card might be lost in the shuffle, therefore, the hand. I dunno persactly how many little notes I've written on my hands over my lifetime but it's a lot.

Even better was the note she wrote on her hand for the Houston area blowout for Rick Perry.Hi mom. I can see her laughing at all the lefties who think it's such a big deal to write something on one's hand when durned near everyone does it. Sarah has to be asking if lefties are simply trying to alienate middle America or if they're simply dumber than yesterday's coffee grounds. Hmm, it could be both. I don't know just how Governor Palin would fare in the primaries if she decides to run for the presidency but it sure is plain to see that she has a better sense of humor than the incumbent.

The Obamanuts are claiming that Obama wiped out the Republicans in that meeting they had. I guess that's right if you call taking every question and answering something else, totally unrelated to what the question was. Furthermore, I'd really like to meet these folks Obama is talking about when he pops up with some outlandish statement and saying it's from some say. Some say, Mr. Obama? Who? Come out with some names and hometowns so we can call 'em on the phone and ask when they said it.

Some say. The some, in this case are as elusive as Obama's college transcripts. Y'know what? I'm plumb tired of the left getting all up in the air about Palin or Perry or insert conservative figure here while everything about Obama is a stinking mystery.

How did Obama travel to Pakistan when it was against the rules for an American to go there? How did a guy who, according to his own book, couldn't afford a cab in new York manage to scrape together the money for that trip? Why would a guy that age, brimming with youthful hormones, want to go to Pakistan? Okay, back then I could see a guy wanting to go to Thailand or the Philippines, even Okinawa or a bunch of other places full of girls of low morals but Pakistan? Really, Pakistan? Why? Why would anyone, much less a red blooded young man, who cannot speak any language but English want to go to freaking Pakistan where they'll throw acid in the face of any girl that so much as smiles to him? So, instead of focusing on what Sarah has written on her hand today, how 'bout some questions for Potus?

I have been asked by a couple of people who I support for governor of Texas this term. I know Rick Perry, he's actually done a pretty good job. While the rest of the country is completely in the toilet, Texas is merely kind of slow. I do not know Debra Medina. She is the Chairman of the Wharton County Republican Party, jumping from there to Governor seems like a pretty big step. Then again, George Bush went from selling his share of the Texas Rangers for a gazillion bucks and thence to the Governor's Office. He may wish he'd stayed there. I met Senator Hutchinson back when she was Kay Bailey, I believe she was a State Rep then. Dang she was good looking!

Well, I know I'm not voting for Hutchinson. It's time she spends some effort on something else. She has simply been infected with Washington. think of her as a taller, better looking version of John McCain.

I do not know Medina. She may be a wonderful person. She is also the state coordinator for some kind of Ron Paul thing. Ron Paul seems to be a nice enough fellow too but he has a lot of very strange and creepy followers. I shall do a little research before deciding to take a chance or simply go with Perry.

I have three fears about this election. Fear #1 is KBH getting the nomination and conservatives staying home and a Dem getting the Governors mansion. Fear #2 is Perry getting the nomination and the Paultards staying home and a Dem getting the Governor's Mansion. Fear #3 is Medina winning and the government getting filled with Paultards. Y'know what else is funny? How ron Paul manages to keep his House office from filling up with Paultards. I'm leaning hard toward Perry.

I'm also leaning towards my pillow. It's going to be a gray, wet and rainy day, just perfect for the bald fat guy to lay abed. and dream of beans with bacon and onion! That's something to take my mind off politics.

Update: Why is it that the left, the bunch that always claims to be for freedom, especially sexual freedom, must constantly slander folks they disagree with in sexual terms? I'm not quite sure what satisfaction is found in teabagging. My Linda Lou and I used to be pretty open with each other and if we had understood the concept years ago we might have tried it. Today? Nah, it would be too embarrassing to have to call the volunteer fire dept to get us out of the position. And now the left has decided to call Palin's scribbles a hand job.

Further update: Commenter Jennifer has taken me to task for namecalling in my comments about Debra Medina. I have called her nothing, merely stated that I don't know her. I'm a long way from Beeville, TX. I stand by my comments that there were a lot of very strange people following Dr. Paul. The term Paultards is not a blanket indictment of everyone who supported Dr. Paul, merely those strange people.

I have no way of knowing why or how these really strange people involve themselves for one candidate over another. Nor is it any particular Party. I remember the Buchanan Brigades. By the same token I remember how Senator Clinton won the most votes in the Texas Primaries but the Obamites played some very strange and dirty games in the caucuses. So, Obama "won" Texas.

So, sorry, Jennifer, I'll not apologize. I will stand by my statement that I will have to learn a lot about Medina before I switch from Perry. And I feel no guilt about the verbal shorthand of Paultards. All politicians have some weird supporters. Dr. Paul has an unusual percentage.

Corpsman Up!

There are Navy Hospital Corpsmen on duty in the White House, 24/7. Naturally the political gods that run the place never notice those guys and gals in the funny clothes and out of style haircuts.

I am not surprised that Obama can't say the word, he's probably never even looked at them, much less asked them what they do there. I don't think he's ever bothered watching a war movie with American Forces involved. After all, he wouldn't want to get caught rooting for the other side.

A lot of people want to cut Obama some slack here, after all everyone cut Dan Quayle so much slack when he got that misprinted flash card. Oh, wait. Well, how about we give him exactly as much slack as Quayle got? We are under a constant barrage about how smart Obama is, and how his administration is chock full of the smartest people in the country. They've all gone to the first rate schools, too. Not like that dreary Palin who took extra years to get a degree in some cow college.

why they're so smart that either Obama doesn't need to practice his speeches or nobody else knows how to pronounce it. Or is it the speechwriter? The people in charge of making Obama sound so smart (if one looks at Obama's numbers they ain't doin' such a hot job, there) might have actually written "Corpse Man". The more I see of Obama the more I see that he is simply an empty suit, a mass of skin held up by narcissism and hunger for power. Nor do I believe he knows what to do with that power except to command everyone to "look at me!" We could actually handle that if the rest of the government were not filled with mendicants and knaves.

My (electronic) friend Cynthia says that Obama is a malignant sociopath. She may very well be right, I lean towards that when I look at what he's doing to the economy. Still, years ago, more years than I care to think about, way back when my chest was bigger around than my belly and I had legs like tree trunks I learned to never attribute to malevolence what can be explained by stupidity. Of course there is always malevolent stupidity.

There is a very real possibility that Obama is just a convenient front for the Chicago mob and convicted felon George Soros. Soros has made a pile of money wrecking economies, he is, after all, the man who broke the Bank of England. While most people make their money either working for others or building something, there seems to be another way, destroying the savings and livelihoods of innocent, hard working people. I'm not smart enough to understand how one makes money like that but there are boatloads of bucks to be had wrecking lives. And this is at least part of the bunch behind Obama. Meanwhile he screeches about people who make money honestly.

At any rate that's about all I've got. It's been really wet here, it rains and before the ground dries it rains again. The dogs are Mud Monsters. I went to my cardio doc the other day, he lectured me about my weight, wants me to eat healthier foods. Right. I would except those waterhead looking clowns in Washington have priced healthy food out of the budget. Other than my cholesterol being way too high, I'm fine. So, now I have another pill to take. Oh, goody.

The Dogs And Their Sweet Potato Orgy

I was over at my (electronic) ladyfriend Pamibe's blog and she had a recipe and link to a dog treat recipe blog a while back, the simplest recipe was for yam or sweet potato treats. Well, I like simple and sometimes I even understand simple.

The website is The Dog Treat Kitchen and is jam packed with dog treat recipes, ranging from dead simple to super-duper complicated. The dogs here will have to go without complicated.

Preheat oven to 250 degrees F. Line a cookie sheet with baker's parchment paper.

This one, though is really simple. Take a sweet potato or three and cut it into slices about a third of an inch thick. The recipe says to wash and dry it first but you don't even have to peel them. The recipe says don't cut the slices any thinner than a quarter inch but doesn't say what calamity will befall you if you do.

Here comes the fun part, put the sliced yams onto the cookie sheet and then, wait for it....

Put them in the preheated over. Leave them there for an hour and a half or ninety minutes in metric. I think that's metric. After the timer goes off, take the cookie sheets out of the oven and turn the slices over. Let them sit in the oven for another hour and a half.

Then put 'em on a wire rack and let them cool completely. And that's it. They say keep 'em in the fridge, they also says they'll keep for up to three weeks in the fridge or four months in the freezer. I cannot imagine my critters allowing them to get stale in the fridge.

The only downside to these recipes is that that one treat recipe, baked dry yam slices took seven pages to print. I think the site is written with people who have government computers and so don't care. the rest of us can do it the old fashioned way and just write it down.

Oh, and my dogs loved loved loved them.

My next try will be the oatmeal-peanut butter dog cookies.