So far it's just a one-night stand

It's hard to capture the heart of a jaded old roue, and Little Miss No-Name here hasn't actually done that. Quite yet.

Heavily armed after the Armstrong loophole, I was a mile from K's country home, on lonesome gravel running though a wildlife area.  At the top of the next hill she stood in the middle  of the road, then politely retreated to the ditch as we neared. Something didn't look right. We stopped. She approached, cringing slightly but, before long, accepting an ear scratch. No question she was cold, hungry, thirsty, and lonesome, so we bundled her to K's house and began the usual found-a-dog calls and net posts. We flipped to see who would board her. I lost. She's here and demonstrating that's she's willing to be a Good Dog in return for chow, a soft place to nap, and a bit of affection.


Time will tell, though I suspect a dump. The bastards.

She's several months old and doesn't pee in the house. Forced to guess, I'd say a lab/weimaraner cross. Actually, they can be reasonably good bird dogs.

Teaser

Just too tired to write the whole scoop on the loop hole. In the morning, maybe I'll expose the  loophole that barks in 6.5 x 55, another one that barks in .22 LR, and the third that just barks and is about to be evicted from my favorite horizontal surface.

The trip was lovely, coming and going. The Sioux Falls NWS guys get a D-minus for this day's work.

Man against nature

It is in the nature of man to wish to be at a small show about an hour east of here this morning. It is typically a hotbed of loopholes. This is the one where, last year, yours truly loopholed an excellent .30-06 and a pocket full of other shooty trinkets.

Unfortunately, Nature's nature is to subvert such lofty motives, just to keep us humble I suppose.  A sliver of warm front is passing, and with the following clipper, that means all kinds of potential road misery. Light freezing mist and fog are with us now. It's 50-50 whether it will let up or get worse.

My decision is to gather the troops and give it a try. After all, there's a substantial little city about half way. It boasts good ambulance service and a well-equipped emergency room. Yes, it's something like "Here. Hold my beer and watch this," but cabin fever and the prospect of  five days of unbroken Hell-freezing is a powerful motivator.  

We solicit your magic vibes, not only for an uneventful drive, but for several loopholes we can't refuse.

The Peasants Speak

No, I am not being a copper bore again. I'm being a silver bore, merely noting in passing that copper has cracked the $4.50 barrier and that your pre-82 Lincolns are now worth just a curly under three cents.

The more dramatic expression of inflationary alarmism lies in the mint's sale of Silver Eagles last month,  about 6.4 million of them, a record.

Wonder if Ben and Terry and Barack will have anything to say about this plebiscite on the green paper which they jokingly refer to as money.

There are votes and then there are votes, and it's hard to imagine a more sincere ballot than wholesale trading of paper promises for a pretty metal which rings nicely when you drop it on a  counter top.

I'll stop at the WalMart today, hoping Sam's kids haven't received the word yet and are still peddling Federal 550 packs at $18.97