I had planned to work out in the yard, chipping up a brush pile. It’s been so dry lately that burning them, which is what one usually does in the “country”, is out of the question as simply too dangerous.
So, of course, tonight we got some whopping thunderstorms. The weather alert radio went off and everything. No damage here–the warning of high winds and damaging hail must have been for someone else.
However, I did want to get something done, so I decided to do some straightening in the basement. I’ve been more than a little lazy about that, and it was time to stop being lazy. Cleaning off the workbench, I ran into a handful of Garand clips that I got recently when buying a few guns.
Just a few–3 M1s and an M1A. And about 1800 rounds of ammo for them. Plus a couple of mags for the M1A and an inexplicable Colt AR mag.
At any rate, there I stand, clips in hand. Considering them. I dropped one on the bench just to hear the echo of “that sound”–you know, the one made when an M1 ejects an empty clip. And I decided it had been way too long since I’d heard that sound for real, and too long since I’d been to the range.
So I broke open a case of 30-06, finding it to be delinked Lake City 69 M2 ball. Sweet. Then I gathered up every Garand clip I could find, and started loading them up. It took a while, and over half a case of the Lake City. However, now I’m prepared. This weekend, the weather is supposed to be decent. I’m going to load up a few guns, a bunch of ammo, my Dad, any of my children who wish to attend, and my wife if she’ll go. And off to the range we shall venture. And yes, sometime next week there shall be gun porn, something that’s been missing here for some time.
Heck, I deserve it. Sunday I’m taking Son and a Friend to a WWE event in Raleigh. Pray for me.