Last week I wrote about the horrid, pizza-pocket-ish things that I have in the freezer at work. There is but one of these things left, and I can’t bring myself to eat it today. If I weren’t so cheap, I would have pitched the whole box a long time ago. I don’t know exactly how many came in the box, but it feels like a zillion. I did eat one yesterday, and here’s the funny part: We had pizza for dinner last night. These microwavable lunches are so un-pizza-like that they don’t even make me not want pizza. I’m sorry, but that’s just weird. So here I am, not eating lunch yet again. Meh.

It’s been far too long since I last went shooting. I really wish that I had the time and money to have a good range session at least once a week, but unfortunately that’s not really an option right now. I really want to get in some good, outdoor target practice. It’s been since Halloween that we last got to do that! If this year’s seasonal patterns work the way I think they will, we should have some pretty mild weather in January, and that’s exactly what I’ll do. There’s nothing quite like shooting at plastic bottles across a ~200-yard hollow. Just for fun, here’s a satellite view of the place in question (thanks to Google Maps):

Sometimes we set up at the North end of the field and shoot South. Other times, we’ll reverse that. There’s plenty of room to set up multiple targets for different drills, we’ve shot clays there, and there’s a decent enough stretch for rifle target shooting. Now, I’m making myself want to go right now! Next year, I fully expect to shoot a deer or two in that very place. But, I digress.

We now have less than two weeks until Christmas. Back in September or October, we pretty well decided what we were going to do for Christmas presents. We decided that we were going to have a gunny Christmas. We planned on getting an AirForce Edge for The Kiddo, as he’s really gotten into his air rifles. Jenni has been lusting after a Beretta Px4 Storm DAO in .45ACP. I was planning on getting a Saiga 12 in the whole deal. (And no, I would not name it Abomination.) We set up a budget, and started cramming our savings to make this happen. It would have been really fun, and we would have had a trip out to the farm immediately – possibly even Christmas afternoon – to try out the new goodies, but alas…

It was apparently not meant to be. There was the $360.00 incident with the cat’s tail, and several other (albeit smaller), unexpected expenses that I won’t bore you with that simply busted our budget. Don’t get me wrong – it’s not a bad thing, but still a disappointment. Kiddo will get an air rifle, but it will probably have to wait until his birthday. I think we’re going to get him a new bike for Christmas instead. They’re quite a bit cheaper. As for the two of us, we’ll get each other smaller, simpler presents for now, and maybe we can get each other the romantic gifts of firearms for Valentine’s Day or something.

I’ve been able to cite this disappointment as a valuable lesson to Kiddo concerning appropriate expression of disappointment, i. e. as upset as I was over the deal, I didn’t throw a fit. That’s been really good for his developing mind, and that in and of itself is worth more than a couple of new guns. Plus, it’s wonderful to be in a place in life were we aren’t living so beyond our means that we can’t deal with life’s little emergencies. There have been plenty of times that such financial demands would have put me straight into a panic. “How will we be able to buy groceries if the cat has to get stitches?” – and that sort of thing. Thank God, we aren’t there now!

My employment status is kind of on a knife edge right now, but I’m only slightly worried about that. I know that I could quickly go back to work, and we have survived on far less than Jenni’s current income in the past. Honestly, if I were really worried, I’d already have a different job by now. The fact of the matter is, although it wouldn’t be fun, the worst-case scenario is really not all that daunting. And, there are a lot of people that don’t have it nearly as good. As weird as it may sound, I’m actually thankful for the disappointment and the bumps in the road, as I’m glad that I got my lot in life as opposed to someone else’s.

So, I guess that’s about it for now. Maybe I’ll take that last frozen pizza pocket thingy to the farm and shoot it. Kind of two birds with one stone, you know?

We had a plan last night that didn’t come together due to unforeseen circumstances. As these circumstances unfolded, they became really funny, even if in a macabre sort of way. The Kiddo is out of school today for some kind of weird reason, so his Granddad picked him up from school yesterday so they could hang out today. They both enjoy that, and it’s certainly convenient for us. We had a parent-teacher conference scheduled for yesterday at six, and I hadn’t yet had the opportunity to meet his teacher. After that, the local liquor store was hosting a wine tasting, although the owner’s first language is not English, and he writes it ‘wine testing’. He’s a great person, and I really like his family, but every now and then, there’s some little piece of Engrish that pops up to belie his near lack of accent. Yesterday, going over the plans for the evening, I mentioned to Jenni that after meeting with the teacher, and getting some wine in our systems, we’d be home alone! So, I proposed we grill some steaks and then have some ‘grown-up’ time (at the risk of giving TMI). She loved the idea, so we committed our intentions.

On the way home from work, we stopped at Braum’s to pick up milk, butter (the real stuff, not that ‘I can’t believe’ crap), some heavy whipping cream, and a couple of steaks. We went on home to put away our perishables, and had just enough time to let the dog out, relax for a moment, and high-tail it to the school for our meeting. I almost got too relaxed and forgot about the parent-teacher conference, but we did make it mostly in time. I like Kiddo’s teacher this year. She’s down to earth, intelligent, and cute! I’m betting that’s why he likes her as well! After chatting with her for about twenty or thirty minutes, we went on to our wine ‘testing.’ We tried about eight different wines from Kalifornia’s Central Coast. I think the Central Coast is why God has not yet allowed that state to fall into the Pacific! After wine, we returned home and grilled our steaks.

Somewhere in there, between the conference with the teacher and grilling steaks, the cats got a little carried away in one of their friendly scuffles. Let me preface the rest of this post: Our cats LOVE each other.

We had a little unfounded concern about how Emerson would react to Ferrule when Jenni brought him home. We didn’t know whether he would be aggressive to the newcomer. But, it was clear to Emerson that Ferrule needed a mommy, and so his maternal instincts took over. I know how that sounds, but there’s really no better way to put it. He would bathe Ferrule, and protect him, and it wasn’t at all paternal, it was maternal – pure and simple.

U can haz pass teh sope, plz? K Thx!

They snuggle when they sleep, and put on sickeningly sweet shows in our home. But, sometimes they fight. It’s never seemed ill-motivated, but just some sort of elevated play. Usually, Ferrule is the instigator, and Emerson puts him in his place. They’re not always so nice, though.

At some point in the evening, Ferrule’s claw punctured Emerson’s tail. His claws get caught on stuff when they aren’t trimmed. Apparently, prior to the claw extraction, there was enough pull to put a ~2-inch laceration in Emerson’s tail. Through the fur, it looked much smaller:

At first, we saw a little blood on the floor, in droplets here and there. Upon closer inspection, we located the injury and found that he had left quite the blood trail through the house. Of course, Jenni called the pet med emergency number. They advised that we clean the wound with hydrogen peroxide and water, and then leave it open. We were then to keep an eye on it to monitor any changes. After a little while, it was still dripping, so I called the emergency line again. The woman who answered the phone advised that we bring the cat in so they could suture the wound. Jenni wrapped Emerson in a towel so he could go to his nemesis: the car. He yowled the entire way to the clinic, and continued his protests when we entered. He certainly knows how to make an entrance! After some waiting, we were shown to an examination room, and a nurse took his vitals. After more waiting, the doctor came in, and said that he needed stitches. So, they gassed the cat, shaved his tail, and put twelve stitches in his poor tail!

That, my friends, is $285-worth of medical care! Ouch! I wish I could get that kind of money for every twelve stitches I put in a holster. Besides that, my stitching is much prettier! Jenni says that I don’t have to shave and drug my holsters, and I said that the vet didn’t have to wet-mold and finish the cat. With Emerson drugged and floppy, we went back home. We have to have the stitches taken out in ten to fourteen days. We put him to bed in the closed bathroom, so Ferrule wouldn’t mess with him all drugged up. Oddly enough, Ferrule seems to feel almost guilty in the whole situation. I suppose if any breed of cat is even capable of such a thing, it would probably be a Siamese variation. Then again, they also seem to be the breed that is most likely to hold a grudge…

Watch your step, Ferrule.

So, a few weeks ago, my friend Instinct was asking about the installation of the Meprolight shotgun beads that I installed on our Winchesters. Now, my disclaimer is that I am NOT a gunsmith. I do a little work on my own guns from time to time, but I do not do this sort of thing for hire. I simply am not professional enough with this sort of thing to take on the liability of it. That being said, I told him that it’s really easy. You just get a 6×48 tap and the coordinating drill bit, remove the old bead, drill and tap the hole and thread the new sight in with some Loctite or nail polish on the threads. He said that sounded too complicated, so he shipped the barrel from his 870, ‘Bruce,’ and sight half way across the country to me to have me do the job! LOL! I received his barrel yesterday, and installed the bead last night. It will be shipping out to him today. During the installation, the Evyl Robot Empyre got silly and emailed back and forth with Instinct and a mutual friend, Gatakitty, for the whole procedure. That went as follows:

Jennifer:

Just thought you’d like to know. Bruce has no front sight.

Instinct:

AHHHHHH!!!!

Poor Bruce!!! He can’t SEE!!!!

Jennifer:

So I guess you would cringe to see a drill there in his eye?

Instinct:

LOL

Be gentle! He’s the only one I have!!!

Jennifer:

You know, Bruce has never been to heaven, but now at least part of him has been to Oklahoma.

Evyl Robot:

He’s in good hands. He’ll have a glowing cyclops eye in just a few minutes. Now, the surgeon needs more whiskey

Instinct:

You’re having too much fun with this, Jen

Jennifer:

Yeah. But just tell me you aren’t enjoying the play by play

Instinct:

I am. Now I have a photo documentary of it all

Jennifer:

And now for the tapping.

Wee-Bot says hi.

Jennifer:

Here’s one of your friendly neighborhood evylrobot.

Instinct:

HI Wee-Bot!!!

So he’s learning gun smithing at an early age

Jennifer:

He’s ready for sight installation!

Instinct:

Nice shot

Instinct:

Let’s see…. Power tools and whiskey….

Nothing could go wrong with that

Instinct:

Ummmm…. There’s a hole in his barrel…

Jennifer:

No worries! That’s where the sight goes.

Evyl Robot:

…Dear Liza, Dear Liza…

Evyl Robot:

Nah. Nothing could ever go wrong there!

Jennifer:

Indeed. He can take apart a Ruger 10/22 for thorough cleaning.
Ooh! Bruce’s sight hs been restored!

Jennifer:

Mmm. Whiskey

Instinct:

YAY!!!

Best birthday/anniversary present EVAH!!!

Jennifer:

The Wee-Bot and the kittehs approve.

Okay, so the kittehs do not approve of pictures.

Jennifer:

Thanks!

Gatakitty:

Oh, I’ve never been to heaven,
But I’ve been to Oklahoma….

Evyl Robot:

Now, I’m gonna tell you… The factory bead did not unthread, but broke off in my vice grips. It is steel, and a PITA to drill. I scuffed the finish a little on the block trying to get it flat. I’m not worried about that since you’re about to duracoat. It is ever so slightly off center – I’m talking about thousandths of an inch. I’m not real happy about that, but it will probably never make a difference. With the finish applied, you won’t see it, and I doubt it will screw with the POI. You should be able to easily tune to it with your rear notch anyway, once you’ve installed it. Honestly, you probably wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t mentioned it, but since you are a friend, I couldn’t just not.

Instinct:

Yeah, kitties have that “I’ll kill you in your sleep for this” look

Instinct:

One day I want to have a place to do man-work and a little evyl minion of my own to help me

Jennifer:

Well Wee-Bot is a good one. And we might rent him out for a nominal fee.

Instinct:

I think I can live with it

There is no rear notch on the Remington so I think I’ll be good

Jennifer:

You’ll be fine. It is better centered than my factory sight was on my Defender.

Evyl Robot:

Whew! I was afraid you were going to ask for your money back! Aren’t you planning on adding a rear?

Instinct:

Can we clone him?

Instinct:

I’ve got a big enough one right now so no need…

OH, you mean on the shotgun. No, probably not

Jennifer:

Nope. He’s a limited edition.

Jennifer:

We like big butts and we cannot lie…

Evyl Robot:

*sigh* God has some sense of humor. My butt doesn’t belong on a white dude my size.

Evyl Robot:

…Ya’ll other brothers can’t deny…

Jennifer:

My jeans say “curvy”

Evyl Robot:

Evyl Robot:

Instinct, would you mind me transcribing this thread to my blog? I think it would make a kick-butt blog entry!

Instinct:

Why would I mind?

And, that’s how it happened. I hope you enjoyed it as much as we did!

You know, I’m not too big to say I was wrong. Back in November, I was telling everyone I knew how I wanted to be wrong about the newly elected. I thought he was a typical, Chicago-style, deep-dish, corrupt politician that would make promises and back-pedal out of promising that which was impossible to deliver, or just because he didn’t mean it when he promised them. But, this morning, look what I found on my porch:

OMG!!!! I thought that our undocumented-in-chief would send his knee-breakers to hunt me down for my dissent. But instead, he wins me over, offering me the olive branch in the form of this mythological creature! And, it has healing powers! It’s like the bestest health-care evah! It has healed my soul. *sigh.*

All seriousness aside, I found out by reading my wife’s blog that Chuck Norris is pissed off at the new health care bill. So, to those of us who think it’s another smoke-screened conglomeration of lib-turd pet-projects, no need to worry! They pissed off the Chuck! He’ll doubtlessly be in D. C. to kick some flabby, corrupt butt before we know it! Problem solved!

I couldn’t help myself. Enjoy!

As anyone who reads Jenni’s blog knows, we have two Siamese cats. I have gathered that they have a recurring adventure while we are gone from the house on our daily routines. You see, being Siamese, they do have strange sounds that they make on various occasions for different things. At night, Emerson will sing about the food. We call it the “Food Is Good” song. Ferrule will stand outside our door early on Saturday mornings and tell us he is there. Each of them has their own call that they make when they are ready to poop – just so we know. Sometimes, when we get home from work, they frantically intercept us at the door, emphatically yelling and yowling at us. On these days, they have had an adventure of epic proportions that goes something like this…

Michael, Jenni, and Isaac had left the house that morning to go to wherever it is they go when it’s lazy sleep time for ten hours everyday. The kitties, Emerson and Ferrule, had just settled into the lounge chair and gotten comfortable for their daily slumber when they were startled by a strange sound. It sounded as though someone was coming in the front door, but the family was not due home for hours. Heidi barked from within her crate. The two cats scurried into the entry hall, where before them stood a sparkling figure. She was like the humans, but only about 3-feet tall. She wore a shimmering dress, and had wings that looked like cicada wings. (mmmmmm, cicadas! *nom, nom, nom*) She carried a wand in her left hand. She spoke to the two cats in a lovely, crystal voice, “Where are your masters?”

“Yeouw?” the two responded.

“Let’s try that again, shall we?” she said as she waved her wand at them. Magical sparkles fell from her wand and sprinkled all over the two cats.

“Ur wandz!” Ferrule giggled, “LOL! It makez me tikklez!”

“WTF?!?!?!!1!” Exclaimed Emerson in response, “U canz talk teh hooman talks!”

Ferrule said, “OMG! Ur rite!” realizing that Emerson was correct, “U kan 2!”

“That’s right!” said the fairy in the hall, “I have granted you Lolspeak so that we can communicate. I’m the Fairy Queen, and I have some good news for your masters. Where are they?”

“Theys all gon 2 wurk rite now,” Ferrule said.

“…2 git teh moneez 2 git teh fud!” Emerson added.

“Oh, I see,” the Fairy Queen said thoughtfully. “Well, they have been chosen to receive The Magical Treasure of the Fairies. Unfortunately, I will have to go back to the Fairy Kingdom soon, and I will not be able to come back for a long time.”

“OH NOEZ!” The cats exclaimed in unison.

“But,” she continued, “maybe I could show you where the treasure is, and then you could tell your masters about it when they get home?”

The cats were very excited by this idea. The Fairy Queen waved her magic wand again, and both cats were able to fly. “Now, follow me and I’ll show you where the treasure is!” Over the course of the day, Emerson and Ferrule saw wonders that cannot be described. They knew that they would haz cheezburgers 4 shur! After a long, and tiring journey, they found themselves back in their own home, saying good-bye to their new friend, the Fairy Queen.

“I have to go now,” she said to them, “but you will tell your masters about the Magical Treasure, and where to find it, right?”

“O ya,” Emerson said.

“We b gud kittehs an tell teh hoomans wher iz teh trezur,” Ferrule said.

And then, the Fairy Queen departed. Even as excited as the two cats were, they quickly dozed back to sleep in their favorite chair, waiting for the return of the family. A little while later, they were awakened by the sound of the front door again. They were so excited, they ran to the door in anticipation. They could hear the key working the bolt. They could hear the voices of the humans as the door opened. As the family made their way in, the two cats were so excited that they couldn’t contain themselves. They pushed into the doorway to meet the incoming people and started shouting the news.

“Meow! Wow! Mowowow!” Alas, it seemed as though their speech had gone away with the Fairy Queen, but that would not deter them. They only tried harder, and shouted louder, “MEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOW! NNNNNGGOOOOOOOOWWWWWWW! MMMMMMMMOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWOOOOOWWWWW!” They tried to climb the legs of their masters, as if to say “Why don’t you understand? This is IMPORTANT! Listen to what we are saying!”

Of course, the cats bum-rushing us at the door is completely true. The rest of the story is inferred, of course. When we have this type of situation, we check their food and water, of course. We also make sure that their privies are not soiled. We make sure that none of their obvious needs are neglected, and they never are. They assault us with such wanton force that the rest of the above story is the only remotely reasonable explanation.