Just Out in The Field

 

Yes, this is Texas under a glowering sky. Note Cow Barn.

And tractor. I don't know why but Kubotas rule here.

A Shop.

I call this installation "Fence."

We recouped after a hard morning's work, "Wish you'd buy this place, brother, make for a heckuvva range. Put up a big berm by the tanks and off we go." My friend thought about this for perhaps a second as we took it easy on the side of his rig, "Dam! That's what I've been thinking about, berm and boom, shoot out to 450 yards." I agreed, "Right, put up a shooting tower back in the deal and have at it."

A moment of reflective silence and ES went ballistic, "Get going with a .50. But what if the round skips the berm and hits an 18 wheeler on I35?" I thought about it, a .50 BMG lofting out of the target area to power through an engine block on a highway a mile off.

Look, The Climate Changed!

"Utter disaster, my friend," and he agreed, "My wife told me I couldn't buy it, dammit. Dude, stop talking in case I do." And that was that, "Drive safe." I file this exciting story under guns and country life in Texas.

Shoot straight,

LSP

Operation Barn Sale #2

The last punter left, well satisfied, and we wrapped up the barn sale. What a great result, and pretty much limited to neighboring farmers/ranchers who got some good bargains which they'll put to good use.

EJS was a huge help, a selling machine, who speaks the language of cows, metal and the country, "Brother, 50 bucks all day long. Matter of fact, fixing to take this home today. You help me out, don't need no more in my shop." A pause, "Give you 40." And, "Done. Yours, my friend."

So much for small stuff. Metal -- tin, steel, copper and on went for pre-Biden prices and everyone was happy. And what a good group of country people who've become friends. I like that, a lot.

Cheers,

LSP

Country Life

 

We were standing in a field, in the country. "Dam, LSP, with these clowns in charge anything could happen." Thus spoke my friend, a Master Plumber, and I agreed, "Ain't that the truth. Looks to me like the cheese slid off the cracker."

He didn't argue, "Slid off and fixin' to hit the ground." Spit, "Point being, I don't trust banks, 'specially with this $600 IRS bullsh*t. Don't want no part of that." Yes, and we gazed at the big Texan horizon and a pile of old T posts laying there nonchalantly in the sun while time slowed down.

"Thing is," I offered, remembering a bloodied monkey, "Put the cash in a safe and wake up and find USD$'s worth 2 Cents. That's great until it's not." My friend stared aggressively at a rusting pile of scrap iron, laying there under the glaring October sun, "I like the safe strategy, but there is that."

Another pause and a fat dove flew over, "Boom!" we went in tandem, airgunning cerulean, "If we were loaded up that'd be two misses, or maybe four dove. Limit out." My pal grinned through his Oakleys, "Gotta invest in something man, park that cash. Silver?"

My mind went back to a roll-on, a great weight of sterling and a ferocious simian, "I know all about that." Meanwhile, lazy birds flew overhead in the absence of flak and I thought fiduciary, "So where you gonna put that money, fella? How about DOGE$?"

A nod towards an horizon not long tamed, "I got that dog coin, and plenty of him. Not fixing to sell. Unloading Bit and Ether tho. Sell those coins. And it's all good as long we got phones."

"And internet?"

"Yes."

We thought about this and then wisdom opened the door, "You know the old country saying?" My friend turned his head, "What?" I replied, "They ain't making anymore land." Minds met as one, exactly. 

I file this exciting and true post under "country life" and "anything else I care to think about." Also under "concealed carry." Better safe than sorry, what?

Mind how you go,

LSP