Running Errands

Twenty five years ago, I bought a hitch system called Convert-A-Ball.  One shank and three hitch balls.  The balls were pinned to the shaft and to change balls, all you needed was a small punch.  A small screwdriver, even a key would work.  I had three balls that fit that shaft, a 1 7/8, a 2", and a 2 5/16.  I kept the spare balls in the same bag that I keep my jack and jumper cables in the truck.  Yesterday I needed to move a trailer, and I seem to have misplaced my 1 7/8 ball.  Just Damn!  I've had that system for 25 years and suddenly one of the hitch balls goes missing.  Aggravating.

I spent the morning running around looking for a ball.  No joy, no cigar.  I guess I'll order it online.  However, I was at Academy Sports and they had .22 LR ammo in stock.  That's the first time I've seen .22LR on the shelves in about eight months.  Limit was two boxes, and I got both of mine.  Maybe the shortage is starting to diminish.  I can only hope so.

Tumbling Brass

Couple of months ago, I acquired a bag of range pickup brass.  I knew that overwhelming majority of it was .45 ACP.  Today I dropped that bag of brass into the tumbler to clean it before sorting it.  Bad idea.  It seems that when you're tumbling brass, a piece of .40SW will wedge itself into a piece of .45 ACP during the tumbling process to the point where it takes pliers to extract it.  9mm brass is bad enough, but .40 SW brass seems to like to try to hide in .45 ACP, like it's ashamed to be seen in company with the larger brass.

Aggravating is what it is.  That'll teach me to take a shortcut sorting brass. 

Bill & Hill

It seems that Bill and Hill are angry at comparisons between themselves and mayoral hopeful mayoral hopeful Anthony Weiner and wife Huma.

Bill and Hillary Clinton are angry with efforts by mayoral hopeful Anthony Weiner and his campaign to compare his Internet sexcapades — and his wife Huma Abedin’s incredible forgiveness — to the Clintons’ notorious White House saga, The Post has learned.
“The Clintons are upset with the comparisons that the Weiners seem to be encouraging — that Huma is ‘standing by her man’ the way Hillary did with Bill, which is not what she in fact did,’’ said a top state Democrat.

Why would they be angry?  Bill Clinton set the most recent standard for sexual sleaze for a President, and Hillary lost her feminists creds when she decided to stay.  It's easier to stay with Bill, ride his coattails (or his fly) and move in political circles so that she could become a senator, a presidential candidate, and what was arguably the most horrific Secretary of State in modern history (can you say Benghazi).

If Hill had any self-respect at all, she would have left immediately after  Monica wiped her chin.  She didn't and now she and her philandering husband have set the standard for sleaze.  All the Weiner's are doing is following that example, and calling attention to it.  Why should the Dems shun the Weiner's when they continue to bow at the altar of Bill and Hill?  It's a valid question, and a valid comparison.

From what little I know about Huma, she was Hill's aide for many, many years, learning at the feet of the master.  Anthony and Huma are following the Clinton model.  Bill and Hill should be proud.  Emulation is the best compliment.

Casting Bench

I spent the morning at the casting bench, turning scrap lead into useful bullets.  I cast for several hours and when I had finished, and everything had cooled, I sorted bullets.  From this morning's labor I have 370 good, useable cast bullets that I didn't own at daylight.

That's Lee's TL452-230-2R.  It's a standard 230 grain round-nose bullet for the .45 ACP,  very good plinking and target bullet.  With about 4.5 grains of Bullseye, it mimics the standard hardball load so beloved by .45 auto shooters.  This afternoon I'll tumble them in liquid alox and spread them on waxed paper to dry.  Then, later this week, start cranking the handle on the turret press.  I'll need ammo for the shoot on August 17th and those bullets play a prominent place in my plans for that Saturday.

Magazines, Again

I awoke this Sunday morning to blissful sloth, too late to go to church.  My apologies to the congregation, but I'm sure that they carried on bravely without me.

Sitting the quiet house, surfing the internet, I began thinking about 1911 magazines.  Two months ago I was running my 1911 on the USPSA course and had some magazine related issues.  One mag in particular would not hold the top cartridge in the magazine.  During a hectic stage, I slammed the mag home and was surprised to see the top cartridge pop out of the magazine, arc through the ejection port and fall to the ground.  No one saw that but me and the timer, and that mag got lost among the other mags in the bag.

So, I dragged out my 1911 and all the magazines for it, and started playing with the slide lock.  Out of my sack of magazines, I identified two that would not engage the slide lock. I figured that weak springs were the problem, so I took those out to my bench.

A year or so ago I had obtained some Wilson Combat magazine springs with follower.  I took apart the two offending magazines and installed the new springs and follower, then tried them in the Colt.  They both held the slide lock nicely.  Then I loaded the magazines.  One loaded fine.  The other wouldn't hold any more than three rounds without pushing the top rounds through the feed lips.  A quick inspection of the feed lips revealed that they were hopelessly worn.  I disassembled that magazine, looking for a maker's mark.  When I took off the bumper pad, I saw holes I had drilled in the base plate to install that pad and the remnants of a Federal Stock Number.  I remembered that magazine as one I had picked up 15 years ago in an Ebay lot, of standard GI magazines.  I myself drilled the holes in the base plate to install the bumper pad.  I put that magazine body in the vise, crushed it, and dropped it in the trash.

Changing springs in a magazine is a good idea, and that Wilson Combat kit I linked above is a good one to have.  An additional benefit is because of the way the follower is made, it allows a standard 7-round magazine to hold 8 rounds.  New springs are cheap, compared to new magazines, and anyone with a basic understanding of simple tools can change a spring.  Now, all my remaining magazines work properly, hold the rounds securely and will engage the slide lock properly. 

If you start having problems with your semi-auto pistol, look first to the magazine.  That's probably where the problem lies.

Friday Afternoon Snowcone

Every Friday afternoon, about 3:00, grandson and I head to the snowcone stand for a cool, tasty treat.  We decided on cherry today.

Milady happed to be taking a break from prepping, and I asked her if she wanted one.  She opted for watermelon.  Of course, the dog was curious to know what we were eating, so she got out a bowl and offered him a taste.

He likes watermelon snowcone just fine.

Magazines

I've been playing silly pistol games with the Cenla Sport Shooters.  These guys sit around at night dreaming fevered dreams of stages that require multiple magazines-full of ammo.  Most gunfights are over in three seconds and require less than three rounds, but if these fellows want multiple engagements they're free to design and build those stages.

Nice guys, one and all.  I'm not complaining, but I realize that what they're doing is not a serious representation of self-defense skills.  So, realizing that my standard load of a hot pistol and two reloads was insufficient to play their silly games, I hollered up Brownell's and made an order.

The one on top is for my M&P45 if I decide to shoot that, the three on the bottom are standard, 7-rounnd 1911 mags if I decide to carry the single stack.  Those 1911 mags are carrying the Brownell's name.  They're less expensive than McCormick's or Wilson's and from my initial inspection they seem to be very sturdy magazines.  Adding those magazines to my current stash should give me enough spares to engage the zombie horde that the Sport Shooters seem to prefer.  At least now I won't run out of ammo during a stage.

It's fun shooting with those folks, it really is.

Friday Prepping

This morning we cleared the patio of furniture, added cleaner, scrubbed it with a big push broom and hosed it down.  Let it dry and put the furniture back on the patio.  As the day gets warmer, we'll move inside for final straightening and give the kitchen a final mopping before I start the meat later tonite.

Rivrdog wonders if my mother in law is a teetotaler?  Not likely.  She has one cocktail, maybe two, each and every day.  Purely to assist the digestion.  Her comestibles of choice are 1) Canadian whiskey, and if Canadian isn't available, (believe it or not) 2) straight gin, with three cubes and a splash of water.  She believes that if you're going to build a fire, it makes no sense to put it out.

Yeah, Rivrdog, there will be various potables.  Which reminds me, I need to put the soft drinks in the outdoor fridge.  And scrub down a couple of ice chests..

Prepping

Saturday, we celebrate the birthday of Milady's mother.  The matriarch turned 92 this week and we're all gathering at our house this year for the celebration.  A joyous event, but because we're hosting, the house must be spotless, immaculate, well ordered.  God Forbid that our kinfolks come over and find a spot of dust.

We've been cleaning.  Deep cleaning.  Taking-the-curtains-down cleaning.  And re-arranging.  And the phone has been ringing what-can-we-bring.  Tuesday was yardwork, Wednesday was cabinet cleaning, getting down everything and dusting.  Cleaning windows, and taking all the blinds down, taking them outside and hosing them off.  This morning I rented a Rug Doctor, moved furniture and deep cleaned carpets.  Friday will be final prepping, setting up awnings, and making sure that the patio and decks are arranged.  Late tomorrow night, I'll put the meat on to cook.  Saturday we celebrate.

So, what's on the menu?  I'm going to cook some Italian Beef, and I"m going to make a Pulled Pork, at the specific request of the birthday girl.  Milady is (as I type this) preparing Meat Pies to freeze. She'll have about four dozen done by the time I begin heating the oil.  Meat pies freeze very well and they fry nicely in the frozen state. I'll fry those on Saturday morning just before noon.  Others are bringing beans, and dirty rice, salads and slaws.  And bread. 

I expect about forty people, and I'm sure that there will be plenty for everyone to sample.  Which reminds me, we need to order the birthday cake this afternoon.

Self Defense

In the aftermath of the Zimmerman trial, we're hearing a lot about Stand Your Ground laws.  The common understanding is that under Stand Your Ground, a person has no duty to retreat in the face of violence.  That person can meet force with force.  The law didn't apply to Zimmerman, who was on his back being beaten when he fired the shot.  He had no where to retreat.  His back was literally to the ground.

Still, the left wants something done, and Stand Your Ground seems to them to be a place to start.  Under their scenario as I understand it, if I'm in a place where I have a legal right to be and I am faced with violence, I should first try to retreat from that violence before resorting to force.  That's all well and good, but I shouldn't be forced to retreat as a matter of law.  Retreat should be one trick in my bag of options, but not one that the law prescribes.  If retreat is prescribed then the question becomes; how far should I retreat to meet the legal standard?  One step?  Two steps?  What is the requirement?  Or, why should I, a law-abiding citizen, be forced to retreat at all?  It opens another can of worms that should never have been opened.

Self defense is a natural right, one that applies to the animals in the wild as surely as it applies to humans in whatever predicament we might find ourselves.  I have the same right to protect myself as the animals on the veld.  No legislator can legislate it away, it is a natural right.

You'd sooner tell the zebra that he can't stomp the lion.  Did the zebra retreat?  I don't know and I don't care.  What I care about is that the zebra chose to defend himself.  That's all that's necessary in natural law.

Hat tip to DougM at SondraK.com

Disturbing Cartoon

This is the Most Disturbing Newspaper Cartoon You'll See All Day.  That's the headline over at the Policymic.  Okay, just for the sake of argument, let's look at the cartoon.

That is disturbing.  A stout tree, marked Sharpton with four corpses lynched.  It is a disturbing image, and Policymic opines.

The two newspapers can comment all they want about Al Sharpton's actions but to utilize the horrific image of lynching as their metaphor is simply wrong. When such ghastly acts have marred our history, it is senseless to display an image that has represented the epitome of racism in America.

I also think that the image is horrific, and it becomes a metaphor for Al Sharpton, who has shown a propensity to ignore the facts and inflame racial tension.  In each of the four incidents depicted above, the Rev Sharpton got involved, to the detriment of the situation while simultaneously enriching himself.   I saw the very same operation during the Jena Six incident.  Sharpton involved himself in that incident as well, to the detriment of everyone involved.

I agree that the image is disturbing, but is illustrative of Al Sharpton, who in my opinion is the current epitome of racism in America.  Al is not worried about the truth.  All Al is worried about is Al Sharpton.  The fact that he imflames racial tensions for his own notoriety makes him a racist of the most despicable sort.

Pampas Grass

I'm no fan of Pampas Grass, but I understand that it has a purpose.  Generally, to attract snakes and wasps, but also to hide unsightly areas that you can't improve.  If you can't improve it, hide it, and pampas grass is just the ticket in these climes.  Still, I'm not a fan.

I have this little patch in the front yard.  I'm not crazy about it, but it hides a sewerage lift station, a very important piece of infrastructure in a suburban environment.  We want to get rid of the sewerage, but we don't necessarily want a lift station in our front yard.  If we have a lift station, we want to hide it.

When we moved into the house in 2003, the previous owners had it all over the boundary.  I've eradicated it everywhere but around the lift station, because it hides the machinery.  However, it sits on a corner, and as it grew, it got bigger. Family and neighbors were complaining that they were having trouble seeing around the pampas grass to look for oncoming traffic.  I understood their concerns, and this morning I resolved to address those concerns.

I began with hedge clippers.  The grass laughed at my hedge clippers, so I stepped up to a machete, a nice, two-handed blade that I use for clearing brush on the deer lease.  The grass shrugged at the machete.  I could see that I was fighting a losing battle, and I don't intend to lose a battle to an invasive species, so I put away the machete and resorted to the tool that rednecks keep in reserve.  The chainsaw.

It ain't pretty, but any motorist can see around that corner now.  I didn't go all the way to the dirt, but I'll assure you that the pampas grass knows I've been there.  The next time I put RoundUp in the spayer, I'll have to remember to walk out there and add insult to injury.

I had to hook the Mule to a trailer to haul off the debris.  There was a lot of vegetable matter on the ground and it filled the trailer to overflowing.

But, now the yard is mowed and the pampas grass is trimmed.  If you'll excuse me, I believe I need a shower.

Zimmerman Emerges

It seems that as a private citizen, George Zimmerman has been keeping a low profile since his acquittal in the trumped-up murder trial.  That's his right and his privilege and I don't much blame him for getting on with his life.  However, he did make the paper recently, for helping a family get out of  an overturned vehicle.

George Zimmerman, who has been in hiding since he was acquitted of murder in the death of Trayvon Martin, emerged to help rescue a family who was trapped in an overturned vehicle, police said today.
Zimmerman was one of two men who came to the aid of a family of four -- two parents and two children -- trapped inside a blue Ford Explorer SUV that had rolled over after traveling off the highway in Sanford, Fla. at approximately 5:45 p.m. Thursday, the Seminole County Sheriff's Office said in a statement.

Good for him, and good for ABC for covering it.  The news story doesn't tell us the race of the family in distress, but it really doesn't matter, does it?

Good Dog

I'm always telling Beau that he'll do till a good dog comes along, and I finally have a picture of a good dog.  Sent to me by my friend Jenny.

Acting as a spotter for his shooter.  That's a good dog.

Sunday Morning Dawg

Our kids have a dog, Daisy, that I've highlighted here.  Daisy comes over regularly to play with Beau, and while Beau is normally a gracious host, Daisy still has a lot of puppy in her, and she aggravates Beau.  Beau is normally ready to play with a visiting dog, but when Daisy is around, Beau is the one being stalked.  Daisy tries to get his attention by nipping Beau on the tail.  Like this:

And like this:

I tell Beau, that's what playing with girls will get you; constant aggravation.

Saturday Shooting

This morning I shot with the Cenla Sports Shooters, a USPSA club in the local area.  Thirty of us gathered for a club match.  I'm no competitive shooter, but when I get the opportunity to hang out with like-minded people, burn a little powder, and test my skills, it's a good thing.

I have no delusions that I'll ever be a top pistol shot.  My nearly 60 year old body simply won't allow it.  But, it's great fun to watch the other pistoleros, to help the club, to give them a little cash for their coffers, and to help when it's time to break down the targets at the end of the day.  There were a couple of young'uns shooting with us today.  On my squad, a young man, 10-ish years old was shooting a Kimber 1911 in .45 ACP.  I watched him on the courses and remarked to another squaddie that if he keeps his interest and progresses with his proficiency, he'll be one heck of a shooter when he reaches young adulthood.  After the match I shook his hand and told him it was a pleasure to shoot with him.  Young folks are the hope of the shooting sports and we need to do everything we can do to help them along.

For myself, if I'm shooting I'm having fun.  And I had great fun this morning.  I don't know my scores, and frankly, I don't care. I didn't show up this morning for scores.  I don't believe that any human skill erodes as quickly as proficiency with  a handgun and this morning I got to stretch my abilities.  I surprised myself with some very good shots, and I surprised myself with some very poor shots. 

I'll be back next month.  After I load a bunch of .45 ammo.

Sectioning Bullets

I was piddling on my bench today and decided to section a bullet.  A common .30 caliber 150 grain Hornady SST, #30302.  This bullet is marked as an Interlock bullet and I wanted to see if I could find the Interlock.  Just about the time I finished sectioning the bullet, my son came into the shop and we looked at the bullet with a jeweler's loup.  He tells me that he can see the interlock, but my tired old eyes can't make it out, even at 10 power.

So, I decided to take out the camera and see if I could get a picture.

My camera skills ain't great.  I can plainly see where the cannelure ring locks the jacket to the core, but I can't make out that Interlock ring.

Maybe when I get some quiet time next week, I'll polish that surface and see if I can't get a real good picture.  These are great, excellent bullets and they fly nicely, but I'm darned if I can make out that ring.

Rainy Thursday

It's been a rainy Thursday, and since I couldn't get out to do any work, I didn't.  I dragged the pit under the drip line and I lit the fire.  I've got a whole chicken in there, and potatoes on the stove for 'tater salad.  In another few minutes I'll put some sausage on to whet the appetite.  As I type this, the thunder is still rolling, with pop up showers all around us.

I simply rub the chicken with a good rub, then light a medium fire with lots of smoke.  You can't see the smoke, but it's wafting out of the seams in the pit.  That chicken will be done in another hour.

Sometime during the middle of the afternoon, the UPS guy stopped by with a package.  The holster for Milady's revolver has arrived.  I ordered it from El Paso Saddlery, and it's a beautiful piece of leather.  I figured that a holster maker who's been crafting leather since 1889 should have a pattern for a holster to fit a Colt Pocket Positive and I was right.  That's some good looking leather, with a nice fit.  Just what you'd expect from a custom holster, and I'm sure that it will serve her well.

Isn't that a beauty?  Milady likes it, it fits the little revolver, and now if Milady chooses to go strapped, she's got a snazzy piece of leather to show off.  She'll probably never go heeled, but she might decide to wear it to a barbeque.  That would cause a twitter amongst the ladies, wouldn't it?

If y'all will forgive me, I've got to put on some sausage.

Wednesday Rifle

I was poking around on the bench today and found a box on a shelf that I had forgotten about.  IN 2011 I had purchased a box of Hornady's wonderful .30 caliber, 168 grain A-Max bullets.  I played with them for a while, then forgot about them.  Sure enough that box still had about 20 bullets left, so I started poking in some other bench drawers, and found 20 Winchester cases, prepped and ready, in .308.  I got down the scale and in under an hour I had loaded those A-Max bullets into those .308 cases with 43.0 grains of Reloder 15 and a Winchester primer to give it some push.

Those of you who follow my scribblings might recall that when I started playing with the Ugly Rifle in 2011, it showed a preference for that load.  Since then I've been playing with 150 grainn bullets and while that rifle shoots them okay, it never really shined with 150 grain bullets, being a 1.5-2.0 inch rifle with the lighter bullet.

There's nothing wrong with a 2 MOA rifle in a hunter's hands.  If you can keep your shots within that 2-minute arc, you'll bring home all the venison you can use.  A good 2 minute rifle is eminently usable out past the range where most of us should be shooting at game animals, anyway.  However, many of us like to take that variable out of the equation, and shoot for something under one inch at a hundred yards.  I get it, I really do.The more variables we can pull out of the equation, the more accurate we're going to be.

Knowing that the rifle has professed a liking for that load, I took my handful of ammo to the range to see if what happened then can happen again.  I also took a few of some other loads to try.

I got to the range, signed in, and went out to the firing line.  I got settled in behind the bench and started shooting, slowly and methodically.  A variety of 150 grain loads, all hovering around the 2 inch mark.  I'd shoot a group, then go talk with the range master while the barrel cooled.  The temp out there was above the 90F mark and while I was waiting, I could see little clouds popping up in the evaporation over the Red River.  Some of those little pop up clouds may make thunderstorms later this afternoon.  I sampled a few of the 168 A-Max loads and they were tantalizing.  Sometimes two shots would touch and the third one would fly off a half-inch or so.  Still, it had promise.

Toward the end of the second hour, I posted a new target, and decided to take my time and shoot with all the patience I could muster.  That thin sporter barrel had gotten fairly warm, so I got a bottle of water and went to the rangemaster's shack to cool off.  After ten minutes of telling lies to my old friend, I walked out to the rifle laying on the bench, settled in, chambered a round, and let fly.  Checked my watch, waited three minutes, and let fly.  Continued in this vein until five shots had fallen on the target.  Looked through my spotting scope and decided to walk down range for a closer look.

That's a one-inch target dot, and all five had fallen into 0.810.  Not bad for an old man with a pawn-shop rifle.  I think two clicks up, two clicks right, and I'll be through sighting this rifle for the season.  Now, it's time to see if I can find some more of those bullets and get away from the bench.  It's almost time to tune up for deer season.  This year, the Ugly Rifle is going with me to the deer woods.  I know that Hornady makes this bullet in a hunting version.  Come next payday I'll have to see if I can get several hundred of their 168 SST bullets.

Tuesday Shooting

I was at the LEO qualification range early this morning.  I took that J-frame I had trouble with last week and got by myself on an unused range.  I took some time to look at targets, do a little tune-up on my technique, and practice a little bit withe the little pistol.

It's a Model 38 Airweight, an iconic revolver.  Mine is nickeled and I've only had this particular revolver for 18 months, but it's one I looked for, for years.

I could here my brethren on the firing line, going through their annual quals.  In just a few cylinders, I figured that  I had learned what I needed to learn about this little revolver and that I was ready to take it down-range.  I walked over to the qualification line and got a target ready.  Talked to my Captain a few minutes, and before too many minutes, they were calling for the next order.  They had room on that order, so I went out and posted a target and fell into the well-known routine.

Ten cylinders later, I was done.  The Louisiana POST course is 60 rounds, based on the revolvers that we all carried in the '80s and early '90s.  It's ten cyinders.  If you're qualifying with a five-shot, it's still ten cylinders, for 50 rounds.  Max possible score with a five-shot is 100 points, with 80 points or better to qualify.  We shoot it on the standard Louisiana P1 target.  The cousse doesn't give you any freebies on distance.  You still have to start at the 25 yard line and work closer, to the 2 yard line.

When the shooting was over, we began policing brass while the instructors scored the targets.  One young'un asked me what I was shooting.  When I told him he looked askance at the little revolver, then back at me, wide-eyes.  "Really?"

"Yeah, really.".  About that time, the trainer got to my target to score it.  He turned and holler at me.  "You shooting a five-shot?"   "Yep", I replied.  When he had marked the target, he wrote a big 90 on the face of the target.  When I looked at the target, I had to agree, I had dropped a few outside the scoring ring, probably from the 25 yard line.  Still, the rest of them were in the scoring ring.  I'm qualified with the Airweight, and that's done for another year.