Child of the Corn

Over Spring Break, Daughter requested that I take home a large bag of popcorn kernels from her neighbors who were moving.

I dutifully complied.

Knowing that at the rate of a couple of Stir-Crazy batches every other weekend, it would take this lifetime and the next to use 40 pounds of popcorn, I kept a quantity of unpopped kernels in a bag in the car, and also made up a zip-loc snack bag that I put in the saddle bag under my bike seat.

For several weeks after, I'd toss a few kernels out the windows of the car, Johnny Appleseed-like, near bridges, creekbeds, and wetlands.  And Daughter and I did similarly on our weekend bike rides.

This past week I got a text from her mother, saying "[Daughter] wanted to let you know that the corn you both planted outside [name of store] is growing."

So, the other evening, we took a bike ride, and sure enough, there was a corn plant, doing quite well:

We're gonna have to start scoping out the other places we tossed the popcorn kernels...

Sunday Commodores Shoot-Out

This morning Around the Corner posted Lionel & Company's Easy.

OK, Corner, I'll see your Easy and raise you a Sail On...



I considered posting Fee Tines a Mady, which is exquisitely produced, and one of my favorites back in the day, but the tempo is so slow that the Blogger editor kept timing out before it would post...

Saturday Morning [two] Stooges

OK, since one of us was Sienna, I suppose it was only one Stooge...me.

It all started when I noticed that she smelled, well, like a dog.  So I decided to give her a shower.

No big whoop.  Done it bunches of times.  Heck, occasionally Daughter even gives her a shower.


I start by removing her collar, and point to the bathtub.  She dutifully hops right in.  I follow, and pull the shower curtain closed.

She doesn't much care for being in the direct path of the shower stream, so I pick her 33 pound frame up and get her fur wet so I can apply shampoo.  Soon, she has been lathered and the shampoo massaged, about as thoroughly scrubbed as she's gonna get.  So now it's time to rinse out the shampoo.

As usual, I pick her up again, now about 35 pounds with all the suds and water, to rinse her under the shower head.  After just a couple of moments, she shifts her weight unexpectedly.  I compensate by getting a better stance in the bathtub - and step on the now empty shampoo bottle, which has fallen from the tub ledge and is now underfoot.

The next sequence seemed to happen in slow motion: My footing now unsecure, I lost my balance - Sienna still cradled in my arms as I fell outward from the tub - down came the shower curtain, liner, and rod - the commode bounced me away from hitting my head on the corner of the bathroom counter.  We hit the floor - wet, sudsy dog still in my grasp, the shower - now sans curtain, still running.

No broken bones - I get up and put her back in the tub, and shut off the water.  Surprisingly, she's not freaked out by all this.  I spent the next five minutes searching for the rubber pads that protect the shower tile from the rod ends - replaced and tightened the rod and reattached several of the hooks (the liner didn't even tear) - and finished rinsing the dog.

I dried her off, mopped up the wet bathroom floor, and chuckled about the whole incident.

At least she smells good now.

It Ain't Me, Babe

It's not me - it's what He does through me.


Drop it Like it's Hot - Spirit-Filled Mind from Keystone Church on Vimeo.

She did what?!

Mother sentenced to 50 hours community service for allowing child to draw on rocks with sidewalk chalk.

NBC12.com - Richmond, VA News, Weather, Traffic

Oh, the humanity!

Sometimes, it feels like it would be a relief if Armageddon or the Apocalypse were upon us.


I'm assuming that the 4 year old wasn't enrolled in a high school on the west side of Fort Worth, and wasn't drawing pornographic images...

What do we have here?

Why, it's the Sig P938.



Says Shooting Times: "Mechanically, the P938 is in all ways a little Model 1911, reminiscent of the Colt Mustang .380, but in 9mm. It is a recoil-operated, locked-breech, single-action mechanism with conventionally located 1911-type operating features. The slide locks open after the final round in the magazine is fired, and the magazine release button drops the magazine free. The pistol has an ambidextrous manual thumb safety but no grip safety. The design features a full-length recoil spring guide rod and bushingless slide."

A 'little' 1911.  That's cute.  So, if your self defense preparations anticipate nothing more threatening than an enraged European, wayward Weimaraner, cranky cocker spaniel, or a loose Lhaso Apso - this might be the handgun for you.

For the more serious minded, choose the Sig P224, an abbreviated P229, available in the more useful .40 S&W and .357 Sig calibers.



Wonder if someone makes some Mesquite grips for this?

Custom Glock accessories?

Who could possibly be interested in that?



Maybe not as exciting as double-diamond checkered cocobolo, pewter, or Mesquite grips, but I suppose ya gotta start somewhere to try to give the black gun a soul infusion...

As Seen On The Ebay!