Moving And Shaking

I've been on the waiting list to join one of the local (local being a relative term, it's an hour away but so are all the other ones) gun club for a couple of years now, and a couple of weeks ago I got the notification that my number had come up, so to speak.

The club owns the range where Range Partner and I go to shoot, he's a member so we've been shooting on his ticket. He's changed jobs and his schedule is kind of crazy lately so it's been a while since we've been shooting. This way I can go even if he isn't available.

At the same time M has decided the gun safe should be in the office. That's a heavy bitch, when it arrived four of us lifted it up out of the trucklet and brought it in through the front door. We had no materials handling equipment, so once it was in the door we made the command decision to put it in the first available corner and there it has sat ever since.

And of course now that just will not do. However, it has not gotten any lighter since I brought it home, so I really needed a hand truck. Lucky for me I know a guy...and he owes me since I helped him move his gun safe once, which is kind of ironic, really, since this is kind of where the whole thing started.

So off to the gun club I went today where I got my orientation and shot 50 rounds through the Sig to demonstrate that I can follow directions (although I really did suck at it, good thing I'm joining a range) as Range Partner laughed at me. Afterwards it was off to the Refuge for some toasted cow and safe moving. All too soon the day was over, and we parted with the usual declarations that we would have to make it happen sooner rather than later.

It's been a pretty good day.