Sunday, March 19, 2006

Blog Stuff: Writer's block and domestic chatter...

Can't see anything out there that gets me wound up enough to make fun of this morning. Ah, well.

Kaylee swung by yesterday and hung out with Sarah from downstairs for a bit, before coming up and sitting on the porch for the usual mix of catching up on old friends, girlie chatter, and oohing and aahing over the Leupold CQ/T. (Which is pretty darn swoopy and wins the "looks most like a prop from a SciFi movie" contest hands down.) She's so artsy-craftsy; the whole time we talked, her hands were all busy stitching up some leather cowboy holster project she was working on. It reminded me of a time at a friend's cabin in the woods. The first morning there, me and my hangover settled down with a book by the campfire to enjoy a pleasant vacation day of doing nothing. Kaylee went skipping barefoot into the woods, to pick wildflowers or something, I reckoned. Nope. Thirty minutes later she returned with two small trees she had felled and proceeded to make wood chips fly. I had to ask.
"What are you doing?"
"I just read a book on paleolithic bowmaking. I'm making a bow. Actually, two bows."
"Well stop it. I'm on vacation, and I'm getting tired just watching you."
She went back to woodchip flinging, and did indeed make two bows. And they worked. To folks like me, who consider making a paper hat to be a major accomplishment, this looks like absolute voodoo.


After she left last night, I watched Boondock Saints with Bob, who had not seen it before. His verdict was that it "didn't completely suck," which is high praise from Bob. By the time it was over, it was 2AM and the sandman had near beat me to death. Whatever happened to the days when I could party the night away and go to work the next morning with a bounce in my step? Nowadays it seems Sunday mornings have me downing mass quantities of OJ, coffee, and Tylenol in a desperate bid to summon the energy to face the day; a far cry from stumbling out of some den of iniquity, pulling on the Wayfarers, and exclaiming aloud "My god! Are those people jogging?!?"

Ah, lost youth.

Anyhow, work beckons. Maybe I'll think of something smarmy to type by this evening.


Anonymous said...

Hmmm,... at $700 it looks nice but I think I'll take the Eotech. Battle proven and I figure thatI can buy more ammo with the rest of the cash and shoot more.


Tam said...

I loves me my Eotechs, but the Loopy is for a different purpose. It can be used as a dot sight, but it also has 3X magnification on tap for use as a Designated Marksman optic.

(The CQ/T has also seen combat use, BTW. I've sent three or four off to the sandbox myself.)

Anonymous said...

The leupold *is* darn cool.. we were sighting at a lit grassy area all the way across the lake with it. You said that was what Tams.. 800 yards?

Anyhow, torso hits would be entirely doable with that optic at that range, provided one could adequately guesstimate windage and drop.

Try that with an EoTech. Darn swoopy optic! The only problem is that eye relief is awful picky on the 3X setting, but that seems a decent trade.

(And that was a wonderful trip Tams.. :) )

Tam said...

"You said that was what Tams.. 800 yards?"

That's what Oleg said when he visited with a new laser rangefinder gizmo.

He took sights on everything. The gazebo on the far side of the lake. Our mailbox. The neighbor's mailbox. The neighbor's dog...

phlegmfatale said...

Funny how that hurtling-toward-midlife decrepitude really catches up with you? Want-to has nothing to do with it - I CAN'T stay up all night partying anymore. Reading or doing beadwork, yeah, sure, but the drink-all-night whoop-it-up days may be gone forever, and I confess I'm a teeny bit wistful about it. How did that happen? Then again, maybe we're just out of practice.

Billll said...

So how would that look on top of that SF-looking .22 pistol I saw widely mentioned, but now cannot remember the name of.
I can picture it clearly. Fat lot of good that does.

Tam said...

"Then again, maybe we're just out of practice."

That has a lot to do with it for me. That, plus lack of opportunity to stay in practice. I've gone from living in an intown neighborhood in a big city with a big club scene to being just another suburban commuter in a smaller college city.

At least, that sounds a lot better to my ears than "Face it, Tam: you're getting old." ;)

Anonymous said...

I reckon that photo of you from a few posts back is evidence of your getting better, not older. Jim.