The boat sits in the tractor shed at the farm. I forgot to winterize the motor. Yay me! So, a little extra maintenance will have to be done before we can AGAIN try to go fishing on actual water.
The following will be considered stupid of me to post. I am not concerned. Really.
So, as some of you already know, I am newly living alone, for the first time in my life. A month ago my ex purchased his own house and I was able to move back into my little "cottage" (yea, I am calling it a cottage; It sounds so much better than "little hovel"). A good friend asked me when the last time was that I lived alone. I stood there with the phone in my ear, dumbfounded and said "I have never lived alone". I had not realized, until that point, that I had NEVER really ever lived alone.
I went from parents to army to married to having a child, etc. Child is off to live her life and I am divorced. End of story. NEVER LIVED ALONE!
So, yes, I live alone, but safety is no longer much of an issue because of the alarm, the dogs and the Baby:
- Alarm - I have ADT. It is an annoying set up, but monitored, loud and effective.
- Dogs - If the alarm does not dissuade an intruder, I have Cleo and her brother Genghis. These dogs are close to 100 pounds each, with cranky fighting dog lineage. They have not been socialized so they are not the friendliest dogs to cross paths with.
- Baby - Finally, if those two things do not deter an unwanted visitor, the Glock 9mm compact (otherwise known as a Baby Glock) next to my bed, and the following story, will take care of any doubts.
A lot of people out there will have you believe that "Guns kill people" but I am one of those Americans that believes that "People kill people". My younger brother and I traipsed around the Grandparent's farm as little kids - toting loaded rifles and target shooting. Our Parents and Grandparents taught us gun-safety. We never shot each other or anyone else - nor did we do damage to property. If people are incompetent or untrained, they are going to hurt or kill either themselves or others.
I also believe in what my GrandMa Taylor said; "If guns are outlawed, only the outlaws will be armed".
Enough said. You know my stance on proper training and Gun Control now.
I have been frequenting the indoor pistol range not far from here. I learned that I was not a bad shot (not that I ever thought I was really). I come from a good lineage. My Grandfathers both had to hunt for part of the family food. They did NOT starve to death. My father had been on a winning rifle team in the army (even though he was blind in his right eye and right handed - you do the math) and my mother thinks he did pistol competitions as well, but we cannot confirm this with anyone. My parents were both decent shots.
I did my time in the military (which I think the country would benefit from every able bodied American of age 'doing compulsory military time') when I got out of high school. I was barely 17 when I signed up for the Army on delayed entry as I had to finish high school. I was so young my parents had to sign for me because my signature alone was not enough legally. That August I was off to Fort Jackson for Basic Training and Advanced Individual Training (AIT). Let's just say it was hot, dry and I inhaled/ingested a LOT of sand.
I was no good at the physical training (PT). I managed it, but I hated it. I was not a morning person. I am still NOT a morning person. I did fine enough in most other aspects of training and excelled in Drill and Ceremony. I guess that high school marching band business was beneficial. The one area that I stood out right fine in was at the firing range. I did not care one way or the other about the machine gun training. That thing was heavy and I was not interested in being the one to carry it. The M-16 rifle training was fabulous. The short story is, having had experience with rifles and being thus comfortable with said rifles, M-16 training was a breeze. So easy that the females who were not so blessed got out of KP (Kitchen Patrol) to practice at the H.O.T! range while I was politely asked by the cranky Drill Sergeants to stay in the vented chow hall so the females who could not hit the broad side of a barn could practice! YAY! No, seriously, KP was a blessing in the hot summer at Fort Jackson SC. That was cool with me. I drank soda (which we were not allowed to have otherwise)! Benefits!
Just as a side note, my favorite training in my military career was hand grenade training. Running up, high-crawling or low-crawling to a bunker or fence (or whatever) - and tossing that biatch in/over!!! YES! Just say'n...
Back to today's life...
In January of this year I discovered a couple of competition .22 pistols that my dad left when he passed. They were in a cabinet no one ever went into. I pulled them out, cleaned them and went to the range with my favorite companion.
It was all over but the crying.
After a few magazines, I found my stride. I settled into pistol shooting. I got all misty as the memories came back to me. Memories, vague as they were, of dad instructing me on shooting. Little things he had told me. The military training kicked in about the same time. It was, as they say, like riding a bike. I had hardly ever shot a pistol before, but I used mostly the same techniques I had learned from firing rifles.
Hooked
My fun-time companion and I joined the indoor range as members. We have gone back quite a few times, but not nearly enough. We learned that I am on par with his Former-Army-Drill-Sergeant-Farm-Boy firing abilities. From target to target and weapon to weapon it is anyone's guess which of us will out-shoot the other (barely). He seems proud that we are on similar footing here and that fellow practicers o'da'day notice me. It makes me proud to know that I can hold my own at the range with him because we are exceedingly lopsided in so many other areas (and not in my favor mind you).
Now, as far as daily life goes... Just remember:
- The ADT alarm is your friend.
- Genghis and Cleo are a fair warning.
- Baby is a permanent solution.
Seriously, do not come to my house unannounced.
Just say'n.
