Good grief. I think I’ve discovered Sophie’s favorite food. It’s fried clam strips. She is begging SO HARD.

I wasn’t paying close attention to the WaPo live coverage from the Capitol, but I just heard a reporter say, “He was wearing too much chain mail.”

At The Crab Pot, Surf City, NC. Featuring The Sandbagger, a hamburger with bacon, bleu cheese, fried oysters. Really want one but appetite isn’t that large.

My church is having a coffee hour for Inauguration Day. I really love my church. svuus.org

When you list a new phone number with the Do Not Call Registry, there’s a period of time that elapses before businesses are required to comply. Ostensibly that is to give them time to update all their systems, but the effect seems to be a chance to barrage me before stopping.

Somebody once asked me how to handle Twitter. I said I had to accept the fact that I will never be “caught up” - I have to jump into and out of the stream wherever I am.

Today I have reached this point with micro.blog. I cannot catch up.

Sophie already does not understand “weekend” so “holiday weekend” is even worse. “Why can’t we go outside and play now? What is dis ‘werk’?”

American Gods. I think my favorite character is Salim. He’s so devoted and so human. What he’s involved in is completely nuts, and he doesn’t stop praying.

I’m bundled up like the Arctic. In Utah this would be long sleeve shirt weather. Oh humidity!

Making improvements to my grilling technology.

I come from a culture that believes justice is a thing that usually comes from the court system and is synonymous with punishment or revenge.

We live in a time when staying in touch is easier than ever. Yet I’m isolated. I’m not lonely; don’t think I even get lonely anymore. But emotional intimacy is missing from my life and that’s my own fault. I don’t like to risk being hurt.

One thing I’m trying this new year is texting and FB messaging the people I love a lot more often. Maybe that will bring us closer.

I had negative things to say.

So I put them on Facebook.

When the new VW Beetle was coming out and a standard feature was a bud vase, I scoffed. But I came to enjoy a dedicated place out of the way for a little beauty. Kind of regret not thinking to do that for my house. Might have to retrofit.

Spin dryer arrived and it’s busted. I filed an exchange with Amazon. Had to take it over to storage until I can get it to the UPS store. The back of my truck still leaks and I don’t want the box getting wet.

Alas. I wanted to do laundry at home this weekend. I’ve got a manual waster and a clothesline rack already and I’m itching to use them.

BTW the last time I had one of those washers, the handle was not included. Progress!

I’m actually sleeping with guns tonight. Not because I’m nervous, but because there’s no room!

I meant to get down to the range today, but when I busted everything out, I was reminded that some things were needed. The shotgun needed magazines, and one of the rifles needed a spare mag. That rifle also didn’t even come with barrel sights; you’re expected to put a scope on. I had a few targets, but not many. Unhappy with one of the pistol cases. So I made a trip down to the huntin’ and fishin’ store.

It was ka-ray-zee. Only two people working the counter and lots of people waiting for service. I overheard some senior citizens talking about whether to go to the Capitol next week or not. Seems not. Financial issues. I overheard a clerk say they sold seven guns in two hours. Said they can’t keep them in stock. They routinely sell everything the moment it arrives, these days.

Finally my turn and I asked about a scope, naming the make and model of the rifle. Clerk looked at me like I was out of my mind and said he needed to know more, but nevermind that, what else did I need. Magazines for my shotgun of a specific make and model. Again with the look. Shotguns don’t take magazines. Well, there’s a rectangular hole in mine and the manual is going on about a magazine, so who knows what to tell you. Oh, yes, they take a box magazine but the store didn’t have any. That was an answer that made sense to me. And as it turns out, a bunch of merchants online are out of stock on them too.

He asked me to go get the rifle I want to put a scope on, just be sure to take the bolt out before bringing it in, so I did that. I was whining and complaining about there being no barrel sight and what’s with all this scope nonsense anyway, and he said if I didn’t want a scope I could have a red dot sight.

He quickly stuck a demo one on my rifle and I loved it immediately. That is for me! Heck yeah!

He was completely mystified why I wouldn’t want a scope. I explained that for one thing I wasn’t raised shooting with scopes. And for another thing, I wear bifocals. The more lenses you pile on top of my glasses the more pain the ass the whole thing becomes. It’s something I’m willing to put up with watching boats go up and down the waterway with binoculars, but I’ll be damned if I’m fooling with all that when I’m trying to shoot.

On the way back I got stuck in a massive traffic jam. They’ve been putting down some pipes in the ditches and the crew is now working on a piece of highway that squeezes between a bay and a huge nature preserve, so there’s no alternate routes. You just have to creep through and hope you make it home by bedtime.

I had an enormous headache by the time I got home, plus there were a lot of other issues going on that have nothing do to with guns or firearm accessories. Mostly things relating to squabbling dogs and my own damn clumsiness. Long and short, all my guns and assorted related items are all over the house. I’ve cleared enough bed for me to sleep on and the ammo is locked away. The guns have their locks in and are snuggled in their cases. I’m ready to tuck me in too.

Maybe I can make it to the range tomorrow. Hope it’s not crowded.

Micro.blog advice that probably is obvious to everyone but needs saying for people like me:

If someone posts a remark that looks confusing, look for a “Conversation” link below it and click that. It’s probably part of a coherent whole.

Whenever I write a new song (making it sound like I write them a lot, when maybe there have been four in my lifetime) I worry that I’ve plagiarized because I don’t remember what I don’t remember. No idea what riffs are knocking around the crevices of my mind, who they belong to.

Because I don’t think Kai’s name fits him, it’s a running joke that I’m gonna rename him. Today he can’t keep still in my lap, so I’m gonna rename him Wiggly.

Standalone Wordpress has become way, way too complicated.

UGH! It’s so annoying being absent minded! Last night I cooked four chicken thighs and ate two. I put the other two into a zip lock bag and was sure that I put it in the fridge. Guess what I can’t find today, anywhere.

I live in 90 square feet. How do I lose things in here?!?!

During meditation this morning I was distracted by how vital and strong my essential self feels, even as my meaty vessel ages. I have never felt fully integrated with my body, merely encased within it. That feeling intensifies as the years go on.

OMG OMG OMG There’s a new Murderbot in April! SqueeeeeeeEEEEeeeEEEeeee!!!

Uuuuuuuuuggggggghhhhhhh. I’ve got routine labs today. Which means fasting blood sugar. Which means getting up before the butt-crack of dawn to eat before the fast starts. None of these things are things that I like to do.

So I’m gonna be 52 in a few weeks. Under normal circumstances, I’d be throwing a party with a theme related to the number somehow (playing cards maybe?), but, you know, pandemic. What kinds of things could I do to celebrate?