New Posts

New posts are up over at the Wordpress site. Go see them.

I'll probably be completing the move to the new site in the next several weeks. I'll continue to update here. In the meantime, you might start adjusting your bookmarks to the new site.

Wordpress

I've been playing with a new (to me) program and I've set up a site in case I want to get away from Blogger. You can see it here. I'm not ready to move yet, but I've published a posting at the new site about practical rifle marksmanship.

Give it a read, and tell me what you think about the new site. It's rough right now, but hopefully I can learn enough to move to the new site and get away from some of the problems I've had with Blogger.

Shotgun Shells

I was at Momma's today, bushhogging. When I finished up, she said she found something that Daddy had hidden and she went looking in the closet.



A full box of Winchester Western #6 lead shot in 16 gauge. These fit the Model 12 shotgun that I inherited.



If I'm interpreting the store sticker correctly, these were stocked in September of 1982 and sold for the price of $6.47 at Howard Brothers, a local retailer that pre-dated Wal-Mart. I don't understand why Dad had these hidden. They're still legal for upland game, although not for waterfowl.

These shells are still in fine shape, and there's no doubt in my mind that they'd fire if I loaded them in the shotgun. That's not likely to happen, though. I think I'll keep them with the shotgun to be passed along when the time is right.

Muscadines

Momma has had muscadine vines since she and Daddy moved to Deville. This morning after church we went over to Momma's so that I could diagnose a broken tractor. As my son and I saw what was wrong (belt had slipped off pully), Milady wandered out to the vines with the grandsons and started pickin muscadines. By the time we fixed the tractor, she had picked two gallons of grapes.

This afternoon, she made jelly. I've got ten pints of homemade muscadine jelly behind me on the counter, jelling.

Heh-heh. Life is good.

In the Mail

I find in the mail today, a badge.

This is a replica easily found on the Internet. It seems that the administration of Kansas City at one time decided that they needed an officer to inspect the various brothels that serviced the cowboys who brought cattle in from the drives.



That had to be a good job for a single man. A married man would have had distaff problems holding the job.

I collect badges. Normally non-replica badges from little agencies. I find them at flea-markets and antique shops. Still, this one will find a prominent place in my collection. Thanks, Junior.

Who is Qualified?

We're having an election in October, and a plethora of public officials have to stand for re-election. We're electing statewide officials, and parishwide officials and the campaigning has begun.

The question on everybody's lips is Who's Qualified? In Louisiana, it ain't that simple. Right now, none of them are qualified because the qualifying period hasn't begun. There are a bunch of folks who have announced, but the qualifying period isn't until September 4-6, 2007. Right now none of them are qualified.

Then, it's just a matter of attesting to some fairly simple prerequisites. For example, lets say that Candidate X has announced for Sheriff. He's lived in the parish for the past 20 years, but never spent a day of it in law enforcement. Candidate X's only job for the past 20 years has been running a honky-tonk. On September 4th, he goes down to the Clerk of Courts office and pays a qualifying fee, attests that he has been a resident of Louisiana for two years and a resident of the parish for one year. He signs the form and he has qualified for Sheriff. His name will be on the ballot and if he can get a majority of the votes, he'll be Sheriff.

Now, lets say that Candidate Y has also announced his candidacy for Sheriff. He's also lived in the parish for 20 years, but all of his career has been in Law Enforcment. Lets say that he retired from the City police, then went to work for the Sheriff's office and attained a great deal of success as a modern police officer. Let's further say that some emergency takes him away from the parish during the qualifying period. Due to circumstances purely beyond his control he is not able to appear at the Clerk's office during the qualifying period, pay his fee and sign the form. He is not qualified, and his name will not be on the ballot. Nothing Candidate Y does will change that fact. He ain't qualified.

It sucks. He can run again next time. The lesson here is that being qualified for the job doesn't mean the same thing in politics as it does in the private sector. There is no great career progression for political office. It all boils down to who goes to the Courthouse and pays the fees. If you want your name on the ballot, nothing else matters.

You can see the qualifications for candidates, from governor to constable, here. It's a .pdf form, so be warned.

Hell, in Louisiana, you don't even have to be a Medical Doctor to be the Coroner.

Ranges

In the hustle and bustle of ordinary life, it's hard to find ranges where the general public can shoot.

It appears that Fort Polk, LA hosts a MWR (Morale, Welfare, and Recreation) range for its soldiers. The website says that it's open to the public. It hosts archery, shotgun, pistol, and centerfire ranges with berms out to 500 yards. The website says:

Hunters and marksmen not assigned to Fort Polk are welcome to use the Wildlife Management area and Recreational Shooting Complex if they follow a few basic guidelines. These rules are designed to make access to available leisure activities more convenient, while assuring the safety of the post population and its visitors.

In accordance with JRTC and Fort Polk Regulation 190-3, unloaded firearms must be separated from ammunition and will not be easily accessible to the driver or occupants. The weapon must be in the trunk of a car, in a truck tool box, camper, or bed. The ammunition must be in a separate location.

The Shooting Complex is open on Wednesdays - Fridays from 11:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. and on Saturday and Sunday from 10:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. The Shooting Complex can be reached by telephone at 337-531-6591 or 337-531-5350.

I'm going to have to look more closely into this range. I've been wanting to try my hand at shooting past 100 yards.

$3 billion

Three billion dollars. That's a lot of money. Hopefully, enough.

It seems that the Senate, in a weird conjunction of common sense and paying attention to the people, voted to supplement $3,000,000,000 for border enforcement, saying:

“There is hereby appropriated $3,000,000,000 to satisfy the requirements set out in section 1002(a) and, if any amount remains after satisfying such requirements, to achieve and maintain operational control over the international land and maritime borders of the United States, for employment eligibility verification improvements, for increased removal and detention of visa overstays, criminal aliens, aliens who have illegally reentered the United States, and for reimbursement of State and local section 287(g) expenses. These amounts are designated as an emergency requirement pursuant to section 204 of S. Con. Res. 21 (110th Congress).”

Michelle Malkin is all over it. And Harry Reid even admitted he was wrong.

Newspapers

Newspapers are going through changes. The internet has changed the way we get our news, although there are still people without internet service, or those folks who don't care a whit about the internet.

This post ain't about that. Used to be, newspapers were wrapped with a rubber band. A simple rubber band. A lot of households had a drawer or a bowl or something that collected these rubber bands. No one ever needed to buy a rubber band if they subscribed to the newspaper.

Although I read my news off the Intertubes, my lady still insists on reading the paper with her coffee. She subscribes. I've been going out and getting her newspaper every morning, and I've noticed that whatever the weather the newpaper now comes wrapped in a plastic bag.

I needed a rubber band the other day and couldn't find one in the house. I had to go to the store and buy a bag of rubber bands. In 50-something years, that was the first box of rubber bands I had ever bought for household use.

Thanks, newspaper guys.

Antiquing

We went antiquing yesterday. My lady and my daughter-in-law enjoy such things, and there are certain items I look for, so I enjoy it too, but not enough to plan it.

We started the morning in Natchez, MS, on Franklin Street, the center of antique shops in Natchez. We quickly learned that the antiques on Franklin Street are priced for a level of consumer that our pocketbooks won't support. While it was fun to browse, the level of the shops there was so very retail. The shop owners were very knowledgeable, knowing the history of most of the pieces. Still, $25,000 for a four-poster bed is a bit much.

After lunch, we went to the Deep South Winery where Milady picked up a case of wine. You can, of course, click on the pictures for a larger version.



Then, we got on Highway 61 and headed south, toward St. Francisville. We stopped in the little town of Woodville, MS and hit a few shops that were closer to our style. We prefer the musty little shops that combine antiques in a flea-market atmosphere. Milady stumbled upon an anitique badge for my trifling collection and my son found some books in a bookrack in the back of one store. We tried to quibble, but quibbling wasn't on the menu. Posted price was posted price, so we made our decisions and traveled on.

If Charleston is considered the birthplace of the Confederacy, then Woodville is one of the incubators. Woodville, MS touts itself as the boyhood home of Jefferson Davis.

In St Francisville we stopped at a lovely old church with a magnificent cemetary. We took snapped some photos as we refreshed ourselves among the stately oaks and contemplated the lives of the people populating the graveyard.



Then, we took the ferry from St. Francisville back to our side of the river and turned north, for home. A case of wine, some trinkets, a couple of books and a chance to spend the day with my son and his wife. It was a good day.