Shooting Day

Saturday there was supposed to be a cruise-in near me.

I made plans to go to the cruise-in, which also happened to be in the same town as the shooting range, which also happened to have a yarn store. So M and I decided to make a day of it. We were going to take the new bows along...well, the old bows that I got from my father in law...but the case wouldn't fit in the Mustang so they stayed home.

First we met Range Partner for some shooty goodness and I discovered that I suck at this game and I need to practice more. I also found my Glock 19 shoots to the left until the third or fourth shot, and then it slowly comes back to the right although I was shooting consistently slightly left of centerline even when it was all warmed up.

In fact the 19 shoots so far to the left that the sights are drifted way to the right to compensate for it, which should not be a thing. I have ordered a different barrel for it, hopefully that will cure its ills. Between the 19 shooting sideways and the 36 being such a jam-o-matic I'm starting to rethink my whole Glock ownership status.

Whatever. I like the Sig better anyway...but M has effectively commandeered it. Oh no, I guess I will have to get another one...oh woe is me...

While we were there Range Partner unlimbered his Lapua for the first time in a long time, and she still sounds off with authority and rings the 300 yard gong with boring regularity. Much to my surprise I was able to make some 300 yard ring-a-dings with the 30-06, even though it's sighted in for 100 yards. The 200 yard was no problem, either. That's a flat shooting round, and I was using Winchester target rounds, so any qualms I ever had about going with a less expensive bullet slinger are now laid completely to rest. I am altogether satisfied with my Mossberg 100ATR.

After the last round had cleared the chamber we all went out for a steak. Something that I failed to mention, at my last annual checkup I had the whole battery of blood draws (and I should have worn the kilt even though it wasn't September yet), and last week my doc sent me a text message saying she was very concerned about the numbers. Nice gal, young-ish (any more they all are), small fingers, wanted me to lose weight and get more exercise, yada yada. I told her I was walking the parking lot at work 3 times a week (about a mile, getting it done in 20-21 minutes) so she would have to be satisfied with that. She's not, wants me to do it 5 days a week. I don't work 5 days a week...so guess who isn't going to get what they want? But I digress.

The medical center puts all of the test results and whatnot on a portal, so I signed in and checked my messages to see what she was on about. It turns out my cholesterol is good, my blood pressure is on the high side of good (she wants me to watch my salt. Whatever, I don't use it much anyway), but my A1c is IN THE DIABETIC RANGE!!!OMG!!!IMMEDIATELY GO ON A LOW CARB DIET AND MAKE AN APPOINTMENT!!!

Panicked, I flip over to the blood sugar test results, expecting the worst...and...it's at 7.1 (normal is under 7 for those of you who have never had to deal with it, myself included). Which, yeah, it's above normal, but seriously?

So I've cut out the bread and rice for a while, which is about the only thing carby I eat. Well, that and sugary drinks from Dunkin' Donuts where M is a regular customer, so it's back to plain old unsweetened iced tea for me when we go through the drive through (good luck with getting M to give up her DD iced coffee/extra/extra). We'll see what the numbers are in a month, I'm guessing they will be under 7 again and then maybe she can ease off of DEFCON ELEVENTY. I'll still leave the sugary drinks and rice alone though.

Anyway, so off for a steak where I get a salad for my side rather than a potato, some good conversation and then we're off to the...waitaminute...M forgot her coupon for the yarn store, which is why she wanted to go to the yarn store in the first place. Also, it's a couple of hours yet to the cruise in, and quite frankly I'm ready to call it a day. So instead I hit up the train store for some scenery supplies and we went on home.

I hope they had a good turnout at the cruise-in.

Another Month

Yesterday was the first Redhead Festival held on the East Coast in the USA, held in Dunbar WV. I don't know if they made it or not but they were hoping to set the world record for the largest number of gingers gathered in one spot.

In honor of that event the Redhead of the Month is not a person, but instead an event, represented by this photo taken by festival goer Matt Meadows.

And also, since it is September it must be Kilted to Kick Cancer month! Head on over to this link, pick your team and make your donation, then make an appointment to get your junk checked out. Mine is set for the middle of the month, and I've got a nifty new Sport Kilt in the Navy Edzell tartan that I'll be wearing for it.

Other than that...I got nothin'.

Redhead Days

On the first weekend of every September there is a redhead festival in Breda in the Netherlands.

This year there will also be one the weekend following in the UK.

I cannot imagine a more worthy event.

And so in the spirit of this festival, I present to you...sunflowers!

And since it is September, it is also Kilted to Kick Cancer Month. Drop by AD's place to join in the fun.

September

and my first day off of the month, my joy knows no bounds.

So first, some admin stuff, which starts out with a story. Today walking out of the building when I got off work I spied a co-worker who I had not seen for a while. I mentioned this and he said he had been out just a few days shy of six months.

With prostate cancer.

I mentioned that September is prostate cancer awareness month, and if I wasn't at work that I would be wearing a kilt to commemorate it. He laughed at that and said he had no need to wear a kilt now.

This story fortunately has a happy ending, they caught it in time and he is going to be fine, but there were some ominous shadows in the story...starting with the one where he had to go to two different urologists and insist on having his prostate checked the old fashioned way before they finally caught it.

The first urologist didn't  have the slightest clue what the problem was and the second diagnosed an enlarged prostate and wanted to just cut it up a bit, which very likely would have ended up in the cancer spreading instead of being caught. If you didn't get slightly bug-eyed at that you aren't paying attention.

Statistically speaking prostate cancer is as easy to treat, and as survivable, as breast cancer. The problem is catching it in time, and since most men are a little leery of the finger they may not be so eager to get checked. Not to worry though, it's not all bad. The recommended check used to be annually and digitally (and no, this doesn't mean by using a camera or a computer), now it is every two years by blood test. If you are over 50, or if you are in an increased risk group, it's worth the effort.




One in seven. Get checked. The kilt is on and the hot button is on the sidebar.

Me and Sis, breast cancer survivor

In commemoration of Prostate Cancer Awareness Month, and in view of the Kilted to Kick Cancer campaign, this month's redhead shares the stage with three other kilted lassies. Sorry for the poor picture, it's the best one I had to pick from. I really should have gotten a better one of her, but they all had to go back to work.

And last but not least, twenty eight years ago tomorrow I got a telegram. I was on the ship and a long way from home, and even though the news was expected it still came as a shock to this 20 year old sailor boy. It was that day that I realized that I would have to kill every male child on the planet.

Happy Birthday Youngest Daughter!

And with that, it's off to bed.

Shiny!

I already donated and I'm ready to donate again just for this.

Cause like Erin says, I'm just all about the catsuit. Or words to that effect.

So what are you waiting for?

Just to be clear here...it's all in fun, but Jennifer is a good sport for agreeing to do this. That in itself is good for something, isn't it?











I got the picture from here. Credit where it's due and all that.

Kilted To Kick Cancer

In case you have been living under a rock haven't noticed there is a fundraiser going on around the blogosphere to raise money for cancer research.

This particular form of cancer is the kind that affects menfolk, the prostate and testicular kind. I, of course, abhor all forms of cancer with a burning seething hatred bordering on madness.  But I digress.

You can find lots of places to donate from, please do go somewhere and lend your support. I put my shekels with Evyl Robot. Every little bit helps. Even if you think it's not enough, it is enough.

No, I'm not wearing a kilt. There are just some things that are too heinous to contemplate. I do wonder how that would work in a convertible though...wind blowing through...

ok enough of that. Go somewhere and donate, won't you?

And if you're my age, get checked.

This picture, which as far as I know has nothing to do with KTKC, was shamelessly stolen from The Feral Irishman. From whence he obtained it, I know not.