Just Strolling

There was a stillness in the air as the sun rose above this small redoubt on the Texan Front. That's because everyone was sensibly in bed before braving the Thanksgiving Day Supermarket Maelstrom. I gazed at the frost, had a cup of hot tea, said Morning Prayer and took Blue Eschaton for a walk.

We went by a small but patriotic compound which seems to be in a constant state of yard sale. You know the thing, broken records, a bent bicycle wheel, soggy clothes in a wet cardboard box, a few old rusty spoons, a doorless fridge, whatever. A bit like the Tramp Market under the London's Westway in the early 1990s.

"Must get this crew into church," I thought to myself as I passed Jose's new house. Jose's bought some wooden fencing to mark the boundary between his compound and the yard sale scrappers' but he hasn't put it up yet.

The Pick 'n Steal was empty, apart from the Owl idol, and I poured some coffee into a Yeti 20 Ounce Tumbler, guaranteed to keep your drink hot or cold, no matter what kind of beating you give it. I'm inclined to doubt Yeti's marketing but haven't put it to the test, stay tuned.

Coffee poured into the purportedly indestructible Yeti, I strolled across the way to the Disciples Christian Church, at least I think that's what it is but it's hard to remember. They're a small crew but friendly, good luck to 'em.

We stopped up behind the temple and Blue got to nose about while I took a few sips of Yeti insulated coffee. Yes, thanks to Yeti's special system the coffee was still hot even though the Tumbler hadn't taken a beating, well done. 

I looked around while Blue Appalling did unmentionable things and took in the quiet Texan street scene. This part's well put together and a few young families make the effort to make it nice, in pleasant contrast to the crackheads, fools and wastrels that live down the block.

We moved on, patrolling beneath the locust trees, keeping an eye out for malfeasant skulduggery from the ne'er-do-well rent shacks on the left. But they were fast asleep and Blue Attack missed his chance at glory.

And there it was, the Compound, flags waving, chairs gleaming and all was well. The day moved on from there, much of it on the porch, but that's a different story. 

So there it is, another morning's worth of country life in Texas.

Quas Primas,

LSP

Get Out And Shoot

For a shooter you sure don't seem to shoot much, so-called "LSP." Good point, I hear the criticism, it's constructive. To put things right I loaded some guns into the rig and headed off for the country.

That journey took all of 10 minutes and there it was, the sylvan path to the glory that is rounds down range. I always think there'll be some kind of random game on this trail and a shot of opportunity but there never is, so far.

Instead, there was a mass tangle of fallen trees and brush blocking the path, the weather's been fierce here. I scouted it out; there wasn't a way to get clear short of a chainsaw and I wasn't going to risk the truck in the waterlogged clay of the fields. It's embarrassing to ask people to pull you out, so I parked up and walked in.

The grass was high, the sky was big and the shooting house had been blown over by tornado force wind. Whatever, I set up at the bench with a Desmond, a  Glock and a carbine.

First things first, the plates took a beating, so did the soda cans and, in the end, some reactive targets someone had left behind. At first I was shooting ironically high left, but sorted it out when I remembered the Desmond Tutu was zeroed at 100 yards and I was shooting at 50.

Tutu over, it was time to give the .45 a spin and it did famously, the elegant, workmanlike simplicity of Austrian engineering swinging the plates like fury. Satisfying. But what about the AR?

This one's a hybrid, an ancient CMMG lower and BCG married to a Bison Arms Barrel, Fortis lightweight hand guard, topped off with a cheap Primary Arms red dot. 

Odds and ends by Magpul. Well, the little beast shot like a champ, I was pleased.

Then it was time to head back to the Compound after an armed stroll through the grassy plains and big sky of Texas.

Gun rights,

LSP