The Wife took Friday off to start her garage sale. As advertised, it would start at 0900. When I left to go to work before 0800, it looked like a Romero film around my driveway, if zombies were capable of operating cars. When I opened the garage door to take a cycle out of the garage, it started a wave of elderly flesh shuffling towards our property. Fortunately The Wife, who can switch into full Gunny Hartmann mode when necessary, repelled the geriatric bargain hunters before they could breach household perimeter, at least until 0900. Apparently the day went well, as I didn't see any blood stains when I came home from work.
Speaking of which, work has done it's best to kick my ass all week, so I'm hoping to get out and shoot for the first time in over a month tomorrow. I'm leaning towards loading up all the my rifles in 7.62 x 51 and consuming a large amount of ammo. I'd love to go just shoot some steel at 200 yards, but since that's "plinking" with non-paper targets, it's forbidden, bad, and evil. And some of our members wonder why it's hard to attract younger shooters. After all, everyone knows that what teenagers really want is to sit at a bench so they can fire five rounds over the course of an hour, then whip out the ol' micrometer to measure the group size. Or so I'm told. Shooting anything besides bullseye targets will just encourage immoral behavior and perverse thoughts, blah blah blah.
Someday, I'd like to buy a quarter acre right next to our range, and hang steel in rows from ten yards on out. Maybe when I win the lottery.
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