When does a .30-06 do a thirty-thirty?

When it has a spectacularly successful bullet failure. Continue reading

I’ve been a wafer a while

Which is to say that I left town for a week, and at the same to say that attempts to find the original meaning of mere syllables can be utterly pointless. The lyrics to the song, Jock-a-mo being a good example. Or is it Chaque Amour? It’s bad enough if you’re sure of the language, but the many languages from several continents that were in use in the greater Mississippi delta region of the Gulf Coast, in addition to several native languages and trade language amalgams, it’s just stupid to think you can ever know.

Anyhow; the central Washington desert is a beautiful place, most notably for the vast, wide open spaces covered by sage brush, layers of ancient basalt formations, the more recent signs of the Missoula Flood, and gigantic public works projects. You can sit in one place and see millions of years of violent geologic history and our violent political future at the same time.

I think I understand now

As I was unpacking at my new clock tower* Barb L. encouraged me to throw out old clothes. She told me, “A general rule is that if you haven’t worn it in over a year it’s time to let it go.”

I went to the closet and pulled out a sweatshirt. I told her, “I use a different rule than you. I bought this 40 years ago last month and I haven’t worn it in at least 20 years. I don’t plan on throwing it away.” She seemed to understand the new rule and there were no further discussions about it.

But then a while later she told me, “Okay. I’m going to take a picture of all your hats, gloves, and t-shirts. Then I’m going to post them on your blog and tell everyone to not give you any more.” “Why?”, I asked. She gave me a look that seemed like she was about to burst into some incredible snark but was exercising extraordinary restraint and said nothing. Women. You are supposed to “communicate” with them then they don’t talk even when you ask them questions. Whatever.

That was a couple days ago. Today I finished unpacking all my clothes and was thinking about what she had said. I decided I might be able to figure out what she was talking about if I spread the items out and took the picture myself. Here is a picture of some of my hats:

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I think I understand now. She wants to be the one to give me new hats so I can express genuine pleasure at getting a new one rather than a duplicate of existing one.


* The view from the Clock Tower at my “neighbors” over two miles away through a 6X scope looks something like this:

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sometimes life doesn’t happen

Weird week. Got word Monday that one of my neighbors had died from cancer, as we had feared. He’d lost a lot of weight and his hair a few months ago. When we politely inquired about his health, he always said something dismissive like “getting by.” A very nice old Polish guy, always ready to lend a hand, the sort that moved to America because he was American at heart. Ran his own business out of his home, never a personal complaint, always thoughtful. The sort of guy that when the power to his house went out in the middle of winter for a week, he just shrugged and said it was like camping, but with a more comfortable bed. Continue reading

Something I don’t think I wanted to know

Video instructions on coffee enemas.

I don’t like coffee and this certainly doesn’t change that. On the other hand I know Susan and know she credits this therapy (and some other unconventional therapies) to surviving typically fatal cancer (melanoma) . See also here.

Quote of the day—Mike

A couple weeks ago I moved a guy that was really into audio stuff. His place was filled with speakers. He loved them more than anything. They are his life. We move different things for different people. For him it was his speakers. For you it is books and lead.

Mike
September 15, 2013
[As I mentioned earlier I moved to a new clock tower on Sunday. Rather than climb all those stairs with all those heavy boxes, two gun safes, and other stuff I hired  movers. For the most part Barb and I just directed and supported them with fluids and food. One of the movers was more chatty than the others and told me the story above.

Interesting observation even if it wasn’t entirely complete. He didn’t see the assembled bed or some of the other articles from that room.—Joe]

Random thought of the day

Barb and I frequent have talks about “crazy people”. This morning was one of those times. I don’t remember exactly what she said but something she said gave me a new insight and I told her my new hypothesis.

We get frustrated, grumpy, and angry from dealing with people that aren’t entirely in touch with reality. I’ll bet they feel the same way when their world view doesn’t match reality and they try to deal with us.

Then this afternoon Lyle left the following comment on a blog post:

when you take an irrational position and hold that it is rational, when you look at sane people and consider them insane, when you look at justice and consider it injustice, when you take on the victim mentality and blame the self sufficient, then slowly but surely, reason and sanity themselves become your enemies, and insanity your friend, for reality makes you face your faults and insanity protects you from facing them.

There is more. It’s as if he read my mind and extrapolated.

One year ago today

About three weeks ago Barb L sent me an email with this note and the picture below.

I found this in my wallet. I wrote it when we were dating for about a week (or less). Still all true!

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I met Barb one year ago today via match.com. We talked and talked. I was still in the parking garage in Bellevue Square where I had “drinks” (I had lemonade, she had something more conventional for a bar) when I sent my friends (and romance coaches) Kat and Maggie the following email:

From: Joe Huffman
To: Kat; Maggie
Sent: Sunday, September 16, 2012 8:20 PM
Subject: I’m in love.

I just meet someone. She is awesome!
I can’t wait to tell you….
Joe

Kat met Barb a few days later and after an hour or so when she had a few seconds of privacy Kat told me, “She’s a keeper!” I already knew that but it was nice to get a second opinion.

We are still doing great together.

Quote of the day—Barb L.

You don’t get to be your own museum.

Barb L.
September 15, 2013
[I moved to a new clock tower today. I now have a clear field of fire into the lawns of homes over a mile away. It’s awesome!

I sorted through dozens of old boxes of stuff. Some of them contained stuff from 40 years ago. I’m a packrat and it’s difficult to let go of things. But I threw out garbage bag after garbage bag of stuff.

There were some things I had received from Microsoft that I considered historic. I help build Direct X and Windows Phone 7. I participated in the attempt at worlds record for the largest number of paper airplanes in flight at the same time and have one of the airplanes.

When I came across an artifact from the launch of Windows Phone Seven I wanted to pack it for the move. Barb was there and said to throw it. I started to explain how it was from the launch but she interrupted me with the above quote.

My response was:
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Picture by Barb.–Joe]

First shots

After separating from my wife last year I moved everything out of the house without any sorting and disposing of old stuff that really should have been thrown away years ago. There were hundreds of used targets. Over 99% of them should have been thrown. There were a few that I was pleased to find as I was sorting and throwing away stuff today.

This is one of them:

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These are the first two shots son James ever fired. It was July 11, 1993. He was shooting the first gun I owned. That was over 20 years ago when James was nine years old.

I remember daughters Kim and Xenia first trip to the range.

Kim’s first target was a milk jug filled with water which she hit. I’m pretty certain that would have been throw away even by a packrat like me.

Xenia, IIRC, missed the target (shooting a 9mm handgun as I didn’t have a .22) and didn’t want to shoot again that day. But what do you expect from a four year old kid?

Up a tree

Some days are more interesting than others.

Bent Continue reading

I sweat easily

It doesn’t take much to cause me to break out into a sweat. A tiny bit of exercise and I start sweating. Even the spices in the mildest spaghetti sauce will cause my forehead to start sweating.

It turns out my fear of heights triggers an increased heart rate and sweat—just from looking at this picture I took when I was in Yosemite last month:

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Update: Here is a cropped version of the same picture:

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Visualize where his center of gravity is versus his right foot. He’s taking a picture so he isn’t using much more than his proprioception and ears to maintain his balance.

Now give me a towel to wipe the sweat off.


I had to look away after taking the picture. It made me way too uncomfortable.

Barb wanted to look over a similar edge about 50 yards away. When she got within about eight feet I asked her to stop. It was making me too uncomfortable. She got down on her hands and knees and continued. As she got to within about two feet I again asked her to stop. She stretched out and looked over to my extreme discomfort. She pulled back and said, “That’s a long way down.”

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I don’t know why she is smiling unless for some bizarre reason she likes my sweat.

Quote of the day—Barb L.

You don’t really pack a suitcase. Do you? You just put a few clothes in your gun case.

Barb L.
August 28, 2013
[There is more than a little truth in this.

This was from her watching me pack my duffle bag and before she knew about the case that had nothing but a gun, magazines, and 400 rounds of ammo in it.—Joe]

Quote of the day—Barb L.

Meh.

Maybe I’m getting spoiled but one stunning view looks pretty much like another.

Barb L.
August 24, 2013
[This was while looking at the scenery seen in the images below.

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We walked over 11 miles, at altitudes from 6000 to 8000 feet, looking at stunning view after stunning view.

It was a pretty awesome way to spend the weekend.—Joe]

Quote of the day—Pat L.

I used to think I would die from an angry father. Then I thought it would be from an angry husband. Now I just worry about an angry wife.

Pat L.
August 9, 2013
[This was at our high school reunion last night.

I’m pretty sure there is more to this story and that I know what it is but he wasn’t sharing it so I won’t speculate here.—Joe]

Another Quote of the Day – USAA Insurance claim representative

“We don’t make decisions based on common sense” – USAA Insurance claims representative, total loss department. That was pretty obvious by the time he said it. I told him it was going to be a quote of the day.

In June an old man pulled right in front of us in his pickup, from a cross road on our right, while we were at speed in our pickup on highway 26 in central Washington State. WHAM! My 15 year old daughter was driving on her learner’s permit. She could not have done anything to prevent a hard hit, but I think she saved that old man’s life.

You never really know what you’ll do in a situation like that, but I tell myself not to swerve for deer or anything else unless there is a real need to. Hit the damn deer and stay on the road, or hit that car in front of you and avoid a head-on, if it’s a choice between the two. I’ve seen it go very badly when people swerve. She swerved. If she hadn’t, if she’d gone in a straight line, that old man would have been squashed like a melon, I think. As it was we hit corner to corner instead of hitting him in his driver’s door.

I was telling the claims rep that since I had the trans rebuilt and replaced the engine, the hubs, the breaks, etc., that 309K odo reading meant very little, that the newer and shinier pickup I replaced it with actually has “Less useful life left in it, it cost me more than twice what I’m being offered for the totaled truck, and that I shouldn’t have to remind anyone that the injured party (I) should be made whole, within reason, to the fullest extend possible, and we’re not even talking about our ruined vacation.”
“Where did you get that verbiage?” He asked in reply.
“What do you mean?”
“Where did you get that verbiage?” He repeated. Well how do you answer that question? He seems to think that I’m reading from some book, or repeating someone else’s words, which I wasn’t. So rather than argue about that;
“It’s common sense” I told him. That’s when he came out with the money quote.

Yeah, so I’m out thousands of dollars after I take their settlement. Insurance markets, and the whole set of industries surrounding them, like the towing business and the body repair business, medical care, et al, are completely distorted. In a proper world it would be between me and the offending party, and if things fell apart there it would be in the courts, and the insurance company’s role would be to write a check afterwards (or up to the value of the policy). But this is the messed up world of scammers, politicians (but I repeat myself) and Progressives (and again I repeat myself) and so the party writing the check is the same one determining the value of the loss.

I guess that what we were supposed to do, rather than tell the EMTs at the scene that we were all OK and happy to be alive, if a little bruised, and go against their advice to take a ride in and get checked out by doctors, was instead to complain about pain, act all messed up an carry on and so forth, get some prescriptions and braces and all that, like most people, and scam the insurance company for all that pain and suffereing, woe-is-me-I-have-to-take-three-weeks-off-work-and-I-might-have-to-file-for-disability crap. But we didn’t, and won’t.

CATs from Amazon

There have been some concerns that the tourniquets I linked to on Amazon in this post might have been counterfeit. I received the ones I ordered and I am pleased to announce they appear to be the genuine article. Here is a picture:

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The way you can tell the real thing from a counterfeit, at least the ones we saw in class, was by the end. If it is stitched on the end instead of welded then it is counterfeit. See the little dots, slightly darker the rest of the material, in the red end? Those are the welds.

Tactical First Aid learning points

As I mentioned the other day Ry and I took a “Tactical First Aid” class. His mention of it is here.

This is not your standard first aid class. This is a class for dealing with traumatic injury. Heart attacks, drowning, choking, and even head injuries were not specifically addressed. I took this class to address the potential for gunshot and explosive injury at Boomershoot. The lessons learned are also applicable to automobile and industrial accidents.

There were some very interesting points made in class. Here are the ones that stuck in my mind:

  • One sentence summary of the class, “This is how you properly apply a tourniquet to stop the bleeding until expert help takes over.”
  • Poor tourniquets or ones applied incorrectly actually increase the bleeding.
  • Most bullet wounds are survivable. This includes some head and heart shots.
  • If you can survive most bullet wounds and keep fighting so can the bad guy.
  • Ballistic gelatin gives you a good idea how deep a bullet will penetrate a large muscle.
  • The tensile strength of Jell-O is not comparable to most tissues and hence the temporary stretch cavity observed in gelatin is meaningless when applied to the wounding of flesh.
  • If the victim will be in the hospital within two (and perhaps as long as six) hours the limb will not suffer permanent damage from the tourniquet.
  • Keep the victim very warm. Cold blood doesn’t clot well.
  • Don’t get hurt yourself. If someone has been deliberately injured (stabbed, shot, explosive injury, it doesn’t matter) you first job is to not get hurt yourself. Consider not giving aid or at least neutralizing the threat before giving aid and putting yourself at risk.
  • Direct pressure on an artery high on the limb can completely stop bleeding of an arm but not an adult leg.
  • Children are soft and squishy* and it is relatively easy to stop extremity bleeding.
  • Learn how carry and/or drag someone with and without help.
  • The Gabby Gifford shooting could have gone much worse due to misguided response by the police (details in private, not on the blog).
  • We got very, very lucky with the Boston Bombing (details available in private, not on the blog).
  • Use this tourniquet and this bandage after you get training.

*This was mentioned several times and I kept expecting to hear, “and tasty with ketchup.” I was disappointed but didn’t want to be known for contributing that to the conversation.

A learning experience

Barb L. was spending the day with her kids doing a bunch of fun stuff so I could have just stayed in the clock tower and cleaned my guns or washed laundry. But no. I convinced Ry we should get up way too early on a Sunday morning and do something more interesting. We went to a part of town that I had only been to a couple of times. I’m not sure Ry had ever been there. And every time I had been there I heard gunfire. Are you getting the picture?

The morning was interesting but uneventful. Then late in the afternoon things got cranked up several notches as the gunfire became more frequent.

I was rather busy when things got exciting and didn’t have time to take any pictures until afterward. Still, they should give you a clue:

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One of the more interesting things to me is that all that color is in the contact lens, not my eye. Here is what the contact lens looked like after I put them in the cleaning case:

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My eyes look entirely normal after taking out the lens. I guess that is a good thing. Except those were brand new contacts this morning. They were supposed to last for a month and it looks like even after an hour in a hydrogen peroxide solution the color is staying.

I don’t remember how many tourniquets were applied to my arm but I do know that when Laurie put hers on the bleeding didn’t stop and she kept tightening it. I think the buckle tipped over and as she was cranking on it my skin got pinched. I now have a several bruises that are going to last for a week or more.

Another thing that was rather interesting to me is that out of 13 students in the class there were three women. The prettiest one chose me as her partner* to do “blood sweeps” on each other of the entire extremities.

We started at 8:00 AM and except for lunch I didn’t leave the West Coast Armory property until about 6:00 PM. Then as soon as I got back to the clock tower had lots of clothes to wash and I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to wash all the fake blood off of my skin. I still have lot of red on my left arm and I suspect my face still has a red tinge to it.

I’m sure I didn’t have as much fun as Barb and the kids did but I think it was worth it. I just hope I never have to put my new skills to a real live test.

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*This seems to be a pattern in my life ever since Terri R. (a cheerleader in high school who I had never talked to) chose me as her lab partner in chemistry. I don’t think there were any other girls in that chemistry class and of all the guys in class she chose me. I’m not complaining, but I do think it is odd.

Delightful Rhubarb Cobbler

Of all of the things in Mom’s little box of recipes the only one I wanted was the one for rhubarb cobbler. The oatmeal cookies might have been nice and to know how she made pancake syrup might come in handy someday but I don’t think she had that one written down anyway. But the rhubarb cobbler is in a class of it’s own and I had to have it.

I’m pretty sure I got it shortly after Barb S. and I were married but I don’t recall ever making it. Rhubarb is not something you see very often in the grocery store and even though I think there was some rhubarb somewhere on the property of our house in Moscow I never bothered to actually pick it.

Last summer Dad gave me a bunch of rhubarb and the recipe but, again, I never got around to actually making it into cobbler. The rhubarb spoiled and I lost the recipe.

When Mom died I got the recipe again and this time I put it in OneNote on my phone. Barb L. called around to various grocery stores and found just one that had three packages of frozen rhubarb in stock. I drove over and bought them all. They sat in my freezer for months until I finally made it into cobbler a week ago today.

I shared it with Barb L. and her family when I went over for dinner. I warned Barb’s daughter that not everyone likes it. I told her my son likes the topping but the body of the cobbler isn’t something he would go out of his way to have. She tasted it and proclaimed it, “Delightful!” Since she is not the least bit shy about telling me she doesn’t want to eat the food I cook this was not her just being polite. It really is delightful.

Yesterday I bought another Pyrex 9”x13” pan when I saw it at a Goodwill store. I wanted it specifically for making the cobbler. I then went to three different stores before I found one that had rhubarb. I bought four pounds so I could make two batches.

Delightful Rhubarb Cobbler

9”x13” pan

Body

2 pounds rhubarb
2C sugar
2T instant (preferred, but regular can also be used) tapioca
2t vanilla

Topping

1.5 brown sugar
1.5 C Quick oats
1C melted butter
1C flour

Preheat the oven to 350F.

Put the sugar, tapioca, and vanilla in the pan, mix, and spread evenly. Wash and then cut the rhubarb into sections about one inch long and spread evenly on the sugar mix in the pan.

Combine the topping ingredients in a mixing bowl and mix until uniform (about 30 seconds in my Kitchen Aid mixer). Spread evenly over the body of the cobbler.

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Bake for 40 minutes at 350F. The top should be slight browned and crispy.

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Let it cool before serving or serve hot in a bowl with a scoop of ice cream on top.