Well, It's Over

It looks like it's about over.  Not the blog, but 2014.  We've used it up, worn it out, and now the calendar will flip and we'll get a do-over.  Another wonderful year, 365 days to screw up.

A couple of thoughts

Resolutions:  I resolve to not make any.  I never keep them anyway, so why bother?

Bosses:  The relationship I have with bosses is like the relationship dogs have with ticks.  I consider them blood-sucking parasites.  I've had a few good bosses in my life, but those were characterized by a sense of humor.

Booze:  Good bourbon is a wonder to behold.  Good beer, too.  I intend to drink some of both this year.

Shooting:  I didn't do enough shooting this year.  I will attempt to do better, burn more powder, ht more targets faster.  I can't make any promises, but I'll try.

Family:  I have the greatest family in the world.  My wife is a joy, my kids are magnificent, and the grandkids are spectacular.  Simply being associated with them is the best thing I ever did.

C'mon, Steve!

C'mon, Steve!  What were you thinking?  It seems that the new House Majority Whip, our own Steve Scalise from Louisiana, talked to a racist group in 2002.

Moira Bagley Smith, a spokeswoman for Mr. Scalise, said on Monday that the congressman had “never been affiliated with the abhorrent group in question.”… Some Republicans joined Democrats in expressing skepticism at Mr. Scalise’s claim that he had been unaware of the group’s racist leanings.

How could you not know, Steve?  The group was founded by David Duke, a divisive, racist, former Klan leader well known in Louisiana for his politics.  I call bullshit on that explanation. Duke is toxic to contemporary politics and has been for many years.  If you didn't know.... well, you've got no business being the Majority Whip.

Some will say that the event happened 12 years ago, and we should give Steve the benefit of the doubt.  That he's not a racist, that the Democrats are making a big deal out of this.  Others will say that the President himself associates with known racists, self-aggrandizing liars and well-known tax cheats.  It seems that Al Sharpton has been to the White House quite a bit lately.  That's true as well, and I would prefer that the President not associate with known racists, but that's not the question.

There is no doubt that there is a double standard for Republicans and Democrats.  We've got to work with the situation that exists, not the one that we'd like to exist.  It is what it is, and David Duke is so toxic that a minor event twelve years ago could derail Sclise's career.  That's too bad.  But, Scalise's career is not as important as the gains that the Republicans have made recently, and any taint of racism will invariably hurt their chances of success.

Steve Scalise might be a nice guy, a capable legislator, and an upcoming power in the House, but he's got to go.  We simply can't let the taint of David Duke derail the gains we've made.  It's a double-standard, I know, but it's the reality we live in.

New Rifles

Christmas is likely to bring a rifle or two into the clan, or in this case, to redistribute some.  I decided several years ago that it was time to start redistributing some of my rifles, as grandkids got old enough.  This Christmas, two of the grandkids were old enough, and they got two of mine.  I took them out today to make sure that they were properly schooled on the basics.

That's Zachary with my Savage 10 in .243 Winchester.  Several years ago, I settled on a fairly stout load featuring Hornady's wonderful little 100 grain softosed bullet.  It's a deer-slayer extraordinaire,  I took a middling doe with it several years ago, a one-shot kill.  Don't let anyone tell you that the .243 Winchester is too small for whitetail deer.  Posh!  Zachary's bench technique is all wrong, but he's a small fellow and had trouble getting stable.  However, with that flat-shooting .243, he was able to ring the 100 yard gong with boring repetitiveness.

Next up is grandson Quinton, also with a Savage 10, this one in .308 Winchester.  He took to that rifle like a duck to water, and rang all the gongs at the berm.  This particular rifle is one that I rehabbed. We call it The Ugly Rifle. I found it at a pawn shop several years ago, a sad specimen.  Now, it's been repaired, in a new stock, and it's taken a deer.  A smallish buck fell to it two years ago.  With a 165 Gameking and the family load of Reloder 15, it is just the ticket for a bang-flop shot on deer.

My two young marksmen with their rifles.  I'm proud to be their grandad.  It's hard to believe tht there is less than three months between those two.

New Hat

I was fortunate to receive a new hat for Christmas, a good felt hat that keeps my head warm on cold days.  This particular hat is a Stetson Catera, from their Gun Club Collection.  Very nice, 5X fur felt hat, more of an outback style than a cowboy hat.  They call the color "Bark", but it's a very nice neutral brown.

I wore it today to a business meeting, and my sister took a picture as I was departing.

Very warm hat, and I see that it will be a constant companion during the winter months.  I'll have to put is aside during the springime, but there are other hats available for warm weather wear.

Thanks for the photo, Frannie.

Polishing Boots

When I was a kid, growing up, Dad always had a shoeshine box in the cabinet.  A couple of cans of Kiwi, a rag and a brush.  Then, when I joined the military, one of the very first lessons I got was on shining shoes and boots.  I remember Sunday afternoons in basic training, sitting around with Kiwi shoe polish and rags, spit-shining shoes.  No self-respecting military man would venture out to formation in boots that didn't have a high-gleam.  It was a mark of professionalism, and over the years I invested thousands of dollars on single cans of Kiwi boot polish.

We learned that some boots held a gloss better than others.  The leather from Corcoran boots was especially amenable to a good spit-shine, and the boots were highly sought after, a step up from the issue boots.  Many of us, with our first paycheck, went down and bought Corcorans, especially those of us who intended to make a career wearing boots.

The Army, of course, today wears rough-out leather, a style started by General Norman Schwarzkopf when he issued rough-out boots to his troops during Desert Storm.  Schwarzkopf boots became a mark that you had been in the desert, and they weren't allowed to be worn stateside until after I retired in 1999.  I doubt that the good soldiers of today's army spends much time shining boots.

But, I'm a cop, and I still shine boots, although not as often as I did when a soldier.  But, this morning, a rainy, drizzly Monday, in a quiet house, seemed like just the time to put a little polish on my leather gear.

It's not a spit-shine, and wouldn't pass muster in one of Drill Sergeant Anderson's formations, but it's a whole lot better than it was.  It seems that shining shoes is a lost art, and ignored by many people.  More the loss.

Sunday Morning Dawg

It's been a crazy week, and what with the weather being lousy and the fireworks popping out there, the dog has been staying inside quite a lot.

Laying on a dry floor sure beats being outside in the rain.  The weather-weenies say that it's going to rain all day.  We'll see.

Christmas Gifts

Like most PawPaw's around the world, I gave a number of gifts and received a number of gifts, and I'm just sorting it all out.  One little bag interested me, so digging though, I was heartened to see an assortment of products from the Agribusiness plants at our state penitentiary, the infamous plantation known as Angola.  I retired from the LA DOC in 2000, after twenty years as a parole officer, and I atttended many seminars, academies, training sessions, and department meetings at Angola.  I'm familiar with it, and the long-time warden, Burl Cain.

So, to get products from the prison kicked over my giggle bucket.

From left to right, hot sauce, barbecue sauce, and blackberry jelly, all from the kitchens at Angloa.  I also got in that bag, a license-plate ashtray, and a drink cozy proclaiming Angola as "a gated community".  Heh! It damned sure is.

The blackberry jelly proclaims that it's made of blackberries, sugar, pectin, and water.

Milady is trying the jelly on a biscuit as I make this post, and she proclaims it "okay".  It ain't her jelly.

I don't see the food items at the online shop, so I don't know how my son got a-hold of them, but he works for the same outfit I used to work for.  Still, it's good to see that Agribusiness at Angola is still cranking out product.  I'll have to try the hot sauce the next time I make a pot of beans.

Discombobulated

It's Friday, according to the calendar, the 26th of December, and I'm telling you that so that I can fix it in my own mind, because my internal calendar is all screwed up.  Discombobulated, as it were.  I've been off this week, and somehow in my mind, Christmas Eve became Saturday, and Christmas became Sunday, and when I woke this morning, it should be Monday, but it's not; it's Friday.  That makes tomorrow Saturday.   I've got to keep reminding myself what day it is.

I'm off next week, too, with just one business meeting on Monday.  The rest of the week is clear so far, and I'm going to do my damndest to keep it that way.

Waste Oil Heater

My Grandfather liked to tinker around with projects, and his shop was a marvel to a young mind.  He was always tinkering with something and while he didn't always figure it out, he was successful more often than not.  (The engine that ran on tap water gave him fits, and while he got it to run, it had no power, it wouldn't pull itself.)  But that's another story.

So, I love to watch guys who tinker in their shops, and while surfing around, I found this guy, Gerry, who YouTubes his projects, love2diy.com.  He's been working on heaters that run on waste motor oil, and it's fun watching his projects come together.

Here's the finished project.



I especially like the Pyrex bowl he uses for a viewing window.

I was showing this series of videos to my son last night, during a lull in the Christmas festivities, and he asked me to capture it, because he's just finished his shop and is looking at heating options.

Stuff like this fascinates me.

Christmas Eve

PawPaw is busy today, happily puttering around the house, getting ready for our annual Christmas gathering.  We'll eat about 6:00 and the grandkids will get to unwrap their presents, Afterwards, Milady and I will collapse into bed and sleep the clock around.  Christmas Day is quiet at PawPaw's house.  It's a tradition we've maintained for several years now, and I like it.

Ave Maria is a Christmas Eve staple, so I like to keep it queued up.   This one, by Bochelli, is a favorite.



Merry Christmas, everyone.

Another Shooting

This  time in Berkeley, MO, just about two miles from the place where Michael Brown lost his life. Hot Air reports.

The officer was conducting what was described as a “routine business check” at the gas station and Martin was either in a car in the parking lot or coming out of the store. (Reports are conflicting) When the officer approached, Martin reportedly drew a handgun and pointed it at the officer. The officer discharged his weapon multiple times and Martin was pronounced dead at the scene. The suspect’s gun was recovered.

St. Louis County has released a video and you can see it on YouTube, but the screen grab of the guy holding the gun is here.  

Just to the right of the "9" you can see the guy holding his arm out in a shooting position.

It's too early to tell, but it looks to me like that area in Missouri has some healing to do.  Pray for that as we enjoy this Christmas season.

Weather

It's getting had out there, but the dawg and I have finished our chores this morning and have hunkered down at the house.

Looks like a good day to spend on inside chores.

From the looks of the state map, it ain't over by a long shot.

Drones Overhead

Somebody was flying a small RC drone over the neighborhood, and I managed to capture it, only because it was well lit.  Bad photo, but I thought it was cool that someone was playing with a new toy.  Buzzing little bastard, it sounded like a demented weedeater in the sky.

Can't see it?  A couple of light-colored pixels in the middle of the photo. Here's a closer shot.

It's those couple of light pixels inside the box.  It made a close pass, but I didn't get my phone out in time.  But, it looks like quad-copters have come to the Libuse area.  Very cool.  Until it isn't.

On Burying A Cop

I walked into a prison for the first time in October of 1980.  I needed a job and the prison had a job opening.  That was the first time I had been inside, and I talked to the warden and was scheduled for the entrance exam.  A week later I was hired, on my wife's birthday.  I left that prison six months later and went out on the street after some rudimentary training.  By my feeble math, that was 34 years ago, and I'm still wearing a badge and carrying a gun.

Over time, I became a supervisor, responsible for the lives and actions of people who worked the streets.  During my career I've lost three officers, two murdered and one who died tragically in an accident at the height of his career.  To this day, I mourn every one.  I've also been to funerals of other officers, guys I knew who worked in adjoining agencies.  I've buried cops.  It's hard.  But every cop has buried other cops, and we know it's part of the job.

Over the last several weeks, with the grand jury reports from Missouri and New York, the nation seems to be going through a conversation about the police.  That conversation has culminated in riots, in arson and destruction, in protests calling for dead police officers.  We now have those two officers in New York, good policemen from all accounts, who were ambushed in a violent attack.  I grieve for them and their families, just as I've grieved for other friends.

Nothing speaks to my own mortality like burying a police officer, yet it is easy to draw the wrong lessons in the outpouring of grief over a senseless death.  Death is often sensless and many times conceals itself behind a cloak of blame.  The Missouri cop pulled the trigger on the "gentle giant", but Michael Brown set in motion the chain of events that lead to his death.  His death was senseless, but the officer committed no crime.  The grand jury report makes that crystal clear.

Eric Garner died as a result of police interaction, but similarly, a grand jury held that the police officers were not criminally liable for his demise.  From what I've read in the public reports, Garner's medical problems and poor health contributed to his death more than anything else.  The police officers sent to bring Garner in could not have known that he had asthma or any of his other medical conditions.  Garner knew and set in motion the events that led to his own death.  It's tragic, but not criminally culpable.

Likewise, the chain of events we've seen in New York, where people ranted, demonstrated and marched, often chanting for dead police, Heated rhetoric to be sure, but they are not to blame for the deaths of those two good officers on Saturday.  Likewise, Mayor deBlasio. his rhetoric has been antagonistic to the police.The officers who work in his city have a right to be angry and hurt, but deBlasio isn't to blame.  That blame rests solely with the coward who murdered his girlfriend, got on a bus and came to New York with the stated goal of ambushing two police officers. In a supreme act of cowardice, he stole from the good citizens of New York the closure of an arrest and a public trial.  We'll never be able to plumb the depths of his depravity, to learn what motivated him to act in the manner that proved a tipping point.  More the shame.

There are officers who will quit the force in New York after this tragedy, just as there are always officers who quit every force after a line-of-duty death.  Don't judge them.  We don't know what motivations they have and we're a volunteer force.  Let them go with our blessings.

Then, strive to be a better cop.  Review your use of force guidelines, talk with your buddies, have a sit-down, if necessary with your Use-of-Force instructor. Learn the lessons, certainly, but remember that 99 percent of the citizens you encounter are on your side.  We still have to stand the line, to be there when the citizens need us. It's hard to bury a buddy and it's harder sometimes to pin on the badge and get back on the beat, but it's a hard job and we do it.  If it was easy, anyone could be a cop.

The Christmas Song

Written by Mel Torme, and sung by Nat King Cole.

Da Cap'ns Beer Bread

Years ago I was a member of a Yahoo! Cooking group hosted by Phil Mahan, a Texican living in the big thicket country north of Houston.  Phil's user name was Da Cap'n, so we called him Cap'n Phil and he was a guru f cast iron cooking.  He might still be, I haven't talked to Phil in ten years.

But, he posted a recipe on The Frugal Outdoorsman that I've used quite a bit over the years, a simple beer bread, and guess it's about time I post it here.

Da Cap'ns Beer Bread

Ingredients.
3 cups self-rising flour
 3 tbl sugar
 1 tbl dried onion flakes
 1- 12oz beer—Miller, Bud, etc., no dark beers

Instructions.
        Mix all dry stuff.
        Pour in beer.
        Mix up and lay on work surface.
        Knead just a little to form a dough ball.
        Flatten it out and place in a well greased Dutch Oven.
        Place oven in coals.

     

Cooked in a  Dutch oven
  Looking down into a 12 inch Dutch oven at a cooked loaf of beer bread.
        1/3 coals on bottom, 2/3 coals on top.
        Bake about 15 to 25 minutes.
        Check after the first 10 min or so.
        When nice and brown on top, remove and knock         on the bottom of loaf.
        If it says THUNK it's done.

This is a Dutch Oven recipe, and a campfire recipe, but you can use your inside oven.  Bake at 375 for about 40 minutes.  You can check it at 30-35 minutes.  But when it THUNKS on the bottom, it's done.

Another Trip Around the Sun

I am reminded that today is my birthday.  Sixty-One years ago I came kicking and screaming into this world.

I'm just hanging on while this old world keeps spinning.
And it's good to know it's not in my control.
If there's one thing that I've learned from all this living,
Is that it wouldn't change a thing if I let go.



Thanks for the lyrics, Jimmy.

At the Auction

We went to the auction this evening.  Milady clerked and I enjoyed the show and visited with friends.  I did pick up two little items, identical signs that struck my fancy.

Got them for about half the price I found them here.  They're metal signs with holes already drilled for mounting.

What's Fer Supper?

I had a craving flung on me today, so I texted Milady (yeah, I text) and told her I was cooking supper.  On the way home stopped at the grocer and got some good hamburger meat, then came home and made some half-pound patties.  Salisbury steak, if you will.

Frying them up in the pan, then I'm going to simmer them in a good roux gravy for a while, to let the flavors meld.

Then, put on a can of good LeSeur english peas and make some mashed potatoes.  That sounds just right for a rainy, drizzly, clammy Thursday night.  Salisbury Steak, Mashed 'Taters and English peas.  That's what's fer supper.

How a 1911 Works

A cool info-graphic that details the basic function of the 1911 pistol.

LINKY HERE

I'm putting this up for me, as much as for you.  Go look.