Well things are starting to level out round here. We are mostly boring folk by any standard, but I like it that way. Yes, there are darkling shadows gathering everywhere these days… but a guy can only do what he can do. In my little mediocre life little things matter. As I write this, I am enjoying my morning Monkey attack. Life is good.
I was ordered to come and visit yesterday by Mom - and bring the pup. “Because Dad loves her and it does him good to see her…”. Pop likes the pup…but mom absolutely loves her. She gets mad at me because I can see the Rottie genes in this mutt. I don’t care; physiognomy is a thing (to obvious certain extents)…and I look at the austrolapithicene shape of the little cromagnon’s head…and I see Encino Girl’s Rottie heritage. Mom proposed that she should be considered a new registered half breed. Just as they now have Burmadoodles and Labradoodles and chorkies … my helper monkey could be registered as a Notaweiller. HAR HAR HAR! 😊👍 It was a good visit with no high sticking or antics. Gotta love it when a family comes together, eh?
At church I saw B’s wife…T. She was on the other side of the church, sitting with a wayward young lady they’d taken in. She was a teen mom with a newborn, and all three of them sat together for the service, oblivious of my silent scrutiny. They were just beautiful to look at. T looked like a wise grandmother, the mom and the baby were pretty as a picture… they reminded me of my wife and daughter a lifetime ago…and all I could do was enjoy the view. I felt a brief flash of wistful envy… but I suppose with me and my family…such traditional family arrangements wouldn’t work. I suppose that if everything was equal and we were all being honest… We all dodged a bullet. Possibly an entire fusillade. Some things fall apart; other things fall together. It’s all good.
Welp…my first tobacco crop went into the soil yesterday. I come from a long line of legendary gardeners…but did not inherit the family green thumb; mine is as brown as my … my… ehhh…maybe I’ll just take a detour round that train of thought? Suffice it to say…I have no talent for it. My Grandma tried to get me involved in it as a kid. She’d bring me hardy cactuses up from the States that were so tough, they’d grow on Mars without sunlight and water… and I ran a 50% success rate with those. Mom gave me her seed starter kit:
I heard that Poli had already started his tomatoes so I might buy some seeds for them too. Y’know…I don’t get it? My wife rolled her eyes at me (I should have thrashed her for the disrespect!) - and told me bluntly that if I was going to go ahead with my hare-brained scheme to found a tobacco empire…she wanted nothing to do with it!!! She is up to her ears in snapping alligators with work, church groups, volunteering, and family that she just doesn’t have the time… and yet she has any number of plants of her own! All I wanted from her for this project was maybe a little responsible adult supervision… but I am on my own I guess… I will try to follow the expert advice on YouTube. We’ll see how it goes. The wife did help me set up though…and that was a big help.
I recently announced a breakthrough with a legendary case of target panic. Apparently it affects everyone to some degree. It finished me off 25 years ago when I might have had a half assed chance of going pro - had I been willing to make the changes required for a serious target competitor. I had a chit house level of understanding what target panic actually is, what causes it, and what the fixes are. It was the damnedest thing on so many levels. Sure, all those years ago there were pros and experts that knew what it was and how to cure it…it was nothing new.. But they weren’t going to tell me - having a serious competitor like me was the last thing they wanted. Professional coaches might have been able to help… for a fee. I resolved to use the computer in front of me for something other than stupid cat videos, porn or retard blogs…and did a deep dive on the subject. It’s still ongoing…but I think I almost have the thing beat! Yesterday I shot a 278 and a 285…which is approaching the lower echelons of a serious competitor with the kind of equipment I shoot. There are competitors that can shoot into the 290s all day long…but the vast majority of them are shooting dedicated target rigs with optical scope sights and long stabilizers… not that I care, or anything. I no longer have the competitive drive. The unfortunate reality is that our sport at the amateur level is infested with cheats, liars and corporate grifters. For me, my only competitor is the bum in the mirror… and my most coveted reward is to hear the odd tard say, “Filthie’s a damn good shot!”
If you’re struggling with target panic as I am…archery ace Levi Morgan does a bang up job explaining what it is, and how to get in front of it. It’s a four part series and well worth the time.
That boy is a real pro. Unlike the local fakes and phonies that plagued the sport 25 years ago, he is not afraid of competition - nor should he be. In an ideal world this is the intent of the game - a social event, getting everyone’s skills up to par, developing better equipment and spicing it all up with some friendly competition. There’s nothing wrong with being a serious competitor…as long as it doesn’t interfere with the other objectives. But…whadda I know?
That’s the little story of my little life for now…and all is well.😊
Keep your corners square and put your backs into your Monday! And… thanks for dropping by.
Jest make shooor it's tabaccy yer growin' 'n not wackee-tabaccy!!ReplyDelete
Suiciety is the Thelma and Louise cliff scene and but with a good animal you should be fine for the Great Leap Idioocracy.ReplyDelete
The glorious people's republic of MI has clones (baby femme cannabis plants) but who would want to support Gretchenland.
I think that it is pretty cool that your new dog is bringing you and your parents closer. No, not perfect but being able to agree and appreciate the same dog is progress.ReplyDelete
As to competition... I shot service rifle and high power rifle competitively in Houston back in the day. I was super busy, but I decided to add it in. There were about 15 to 20 of us. Great guys. They didn't volunteer anything. You had to ask. And I did. There were things you could borrow from the club: Tubb's VHS tapes were at the house on occasion. I learned a lot, and hot shot shooters were always welcome. We had one guy shooting a worn out bolt action in .300 Savage. It was a tack driver. He told me the chamber was almost done for. He was barely resizing the neck and it loved him for it. There were a few guys who didn't answer when you asked questions, but they usually bought their scores. They had money to spend on the best quality stuff. I was the lowest guy on the totem. I had the cheapest service rifle there. I think I bought it for $350 and it was built by a gunsmith with parts he had on hand. He took pity on me ;) But I got better and found out the limits of my limited practice time and equipment. I also got a massive confidence boost by being able to hit with iron sights at hundreds of yards, not getting my thumb caught in the loaner Garands, and being able to learn some hidden skills.ReplyDelete
Good luck on the gardening.