The other day, Bobbi took a rack-mount terminal in to work that had been sitting in a corner of the living room for, well, a while.
When she moved it to the car, it exposed a little pile of stuff that had sat behind it. In that pile of stuff was a box from Farmer Frank. He'd sent me a small package with a couple boxes of .405 Winchester a couple years ago, and it was one of those things where you get a package, you know what's in it, and you set it aside unopened because the contents aren't something you intend to use right that second.
I'm not ashamed to say I teared up a little when I finally opened that box to store the ammo away. I should see if they'll let me bend the caliber restrictions at Indy Arms Co. if I come in early enough one morning, just to pop off a round or two.