It’s often joked that alcohol, tobacco and firearms should be a convenience store and not a government agency. I call my basement the bureau because it’s where I keep my beer fridge, humidor, ammo locker and gun safe. Anyhoo, spent the last couple of days getting organized:

After my safe bleg, I settled on a Browning. I like it. Two things, first being I should have spent the extra $500 for the next size up. Everything fits but it’s snug. Second, they make rifle racks or the door with a cut out for scopes. These are not set up for 16 inch ARs. I had to move the rack because I mostly have AR-15s.

Picked the safe up at The Knoxville Safe House. Good people and do recommend. They answered my questions on fire ratings and explained the pros and cons of interior and exterior hinges.

Speaking of mostly having ARs, if one is none and two is one then this is some number. Math is hard:

Top to bottom: Colt 6920 FDE, Colt 6920 Gray, Junior’s Gun, the 12 incher, and a 7 inch dedicated 22LR suppressed.

So, this is our nightly routine. Whines to get me to play:

Those that saw me at the NRA convention noticed and made fun of my long hair. But, I had a plan. I was donating it to Pantene’s Beautiful Lengths, which makes wigs for cancer patients. So, here I am before the festivities (with some help from Junior):

During:

And the final result.

Junior is also going to donate but she wants to have long hair after, so she’s growing it a bit longer. I told her I’d race her.

Sorry for the quick and out posts lately. But I’ve been busy building a thing:

Hey, Junior, you’re famous on the internet again!

But that’s an old picture. I really need some new ones.

This is one of my favorite times of year. Sure, the weather is hotter than the flames of Heck, where Fluffy went. But it’s that time when one of East Tennessee’s greatest foods is in season. Grainger County tomatoes:

Most of the local and, even, chain stores carry them. I just put salt and pepper on them. If you’re ever in this area, try them.

From Savannah. Cool looking castle:

Some sort of critter:

Another castle:

Jabba the cat:

A face:

Cthulhu:

Except for the occasional McStore, the downtown is quite lovely. And lively. I guess local people want Panera and a Starbucks.

I had a Sazerac. It was delicious. Note to self: get some absinthe.

The kids loved the Pedicabs:

He doesn’t look mad at all:

The house we rented had a sundial that was accurate:

There were lighthouses:

Every picture of a dolphin anyone ever takes:

The kids posing in front of George Washington’s cannon:

3 dozen oysters. Challenge accepted:

Some hippie:

With the kids out of school due to icemageddon, we had a lot of down time. And the kids got bored. So, I was showing them things to do with cards, like building a house of cards, throwing cards, and tossing cards into a hat. After a couple of attempts at house building that ended in collapse, my son went and got tape to put them together. Then, I showed them tossing cards into a box. My daughter tried it. But my son grabbed the entire deck and tossed all the cards right in the box.

At first, I was disappointed he was cheating. Then I realized it was also pretty smart.

He is a little rules lawyer.

I snagged a SIRT when they were on sale for $199. Anyhoo, I’ve put about 200 “rounds” through it today and I like it so far. More later. But, as the kids pointed out, it’s the greatest cat toy ever.

I’m trying to figure out why they come with eye protection.

Me: If you don’t get your homework done, I’m going to crack you upside the head.

Junior: THAT’S CHILD ABUSE!

Me: No, that’s hyperbole, which you should be learning about right now.

My dad came by to grab some homemade kimchi and Junior was doing her homework:

Poppa: What kind of homework are you doing?
Junior: I need to do a limerick.
Poppa: Want some help?
Junior: Sure
Me: It better not involve a man from Nantucket.

Well, through it, mostly.

But he came here to push free college for everyone, which is a myth. Because someone has to pay. And he celebrated manufacturing innovations. He pushed education and manufacturing while shutting down a couple of schools and a couple of manufacturers for the day.

As he left, the plane flew over our house. The Mrs. got the kids so they could see Air Force One fly over. Junior looks up and says: “Why are you so excited. We didn’t vote for him”

My nephew let me shoot his BOOMco. Rapid Madness Blaster:

Man, how toy guns have evolved. And fun.

It’s kind of bittersweet. My daughter, who no longer believes in Santa, is helping me play Santa.

So, last weekend, my dad gave a little piece of rolled up foil. In it was the first tooth I lost as a kid. Today, more than a week later, my son, out of the blue, says “So, how did Papa get your tooth from the tooth fairy?”

I told him to call Papa.

At Oriental Cuisine:

I LOLd

My son: Do you have an extra mouse?

Me: It’s in the office, by the desktop computer, under the monitor.

Son: What’s a desktop computer?

Me: *explain*

Son: What’s a monitor?

Spent part of the weekend loading with a helper:

Got that work done, I mentioned. And more.

One of my neighbors likes to let her chihuahua run loose. It charges other leashed dogs with seeming regularity, based on the complaints I’ve heard since finding out I was getting sued by her, and a number of other neighbors asking about me about getting sued. Anyhoo, apparently her dog running loose is my fault because, it turns out, the new dog doesn’t care for Mexican, when it’s growling.

But Junior turned a decade today. Kind of a big deal. Busy. Talk amongst yourselves.

The Mrs. made me crab California rolls and wrote “dad” in sriracha:

Me: Does taking earplugs to a concert make me old?

Wife: Yes.

Blogging later, going to a show.

Mentioned before how I have a carpenter bee problem and I tend to thwack them, or have the kids thwack them, with a tennis racket. Well, I really tennis elbowed one and didn’t see the body corkscrew to the ground and thought ‘da hell?”. Then, I look at the racket and see this:

This creeped the kids right out. It was still buzzing.

So simple kids get it

Couple of weekends ago, our neighborhood had a garage sale. We set out to rid our home of various useless crap. Being neighborhood wide, we had hundreds of people come through. Junior gets the brilliant idea that, since these shoppers are in the hood for a long time, some of them must be thirsty and they’ll buy lemonade. She makes up a pitcher and sells out quick at a $1 a pop. On her second pitcher, I introduce some reality:

Me: So, for every lemonade you sell, you know I get fifty cents, right?

Junior: What?

Me: Well, you’re using my water, my lemonade, my cups, my sugar, my table, my chair and you’re on my driveway.

Junior: But I’m doing the work!

Me: With my stuff.

Wife: Oh stop it.

Me: I’m just trying to teach her something.

Junior: Oh.

Me: And you’ve got to pay taxes. I’d figure if you’re selling it for an even dollar 8 cents or so should cover sales tax. Then F&E taxes. And income taxes. Plus you probably need a permit and an inspection to make sure there are no cooties in your lemonade. And you’ll probably have to buy some sort of approved device for maintaining the lemonade at a safe temperature.

Junior: It’s called ICE.

Me: Yeah, but it melts.

Junior: That’s stupid. I’m keeping the money.

Me: Good girl! But you’re still paying me.

Junior: *evil stare*

When it comes to kids, a parent’s job is to teach them things. A lot of times, we teach them things they aren’t interested in, like teeth-brushing, how to take out the trash, how to make their own damn sandwich (I’m looking at you, son). Other times, we teach them things because they express an interest in it. Such as I did when my daughter said she wanted to shoot and I bought her her own pink AR.

Some hand-wringing, bed-wetter thinks that giving my kids guns and involving them in the learning process is overkill because . . . well, I’m not sure why. It’s not articulated. I’m guessing because some guns are scary. I’d think a supposedly on prepping would realize that teaching my kids useful skills that could come in handy some day.

Need has nothing to do with it. My daughter does it because she wants to.

In prep for this pic, we took this one:

Hers and his:

At age 7, I got Junior her AR. My son reminded me that he is now seven and was wondering where his AR was. I asked what color he wanted and he said green. Coincidentally, I had one. So, I gave him my Colt. Now, I need my own AR. And I’ll probably get him a different sight.

Photo by Oleg Volk.

Said Noted Gun Expert Joe Biden once. Well, don’t tell her.