um...

...so this, combined with Obama's miserable gun record and now his attack on the 1st Amendment?

I agree with Lissa. Creepy, definitely creepy.

Ed Morrissey also agrees. Creeptastic.

your weekly reminder.

Don't forget! Gun Nuts: the Next Generation is on at 9PM tonight!
Be sure to tune in!

oh, baby!

Playing dress-up and being cute doesn't always require a tiara...

Breda, maybe age 2
(click to enlarge)

Hey, a new meme! If you are reading this, consider yourself tagged! Post a photo of yourself as a baby or a small child. (and if you do, let me know about it by linking back here, ok? Because, seriously? I need a distraction from the news today.)

silver lining

Well, I guess life's not all bad...at least Snotman remembered to wear underwear to the library today.

Oh, and I'm going to the range tonight.

can you handle the truth?

Since I'm in a foul mood, allow me to share. You know this big financial crisis that they hope to "fix" by taking your money - the money you worked for, the money you'd like to save for a house, a vacation, your child's future - and using it to bail out those who were irresponsible and the companies who enabled them? Do you wonder how it happened?

Well, here you go...and remember, have a nice day! Hope & change!

you know...

There are days at work that try my patience. Mondays, in general, are always a challenge. Everyone wants everything and they want it 10 minutes ago - summarized, footnoted and, if possible, read to them in a soft soothing voice while you spoonfeed them ice cream. The harried and the needy patrons always show up on Mondays to aggravate us and we deal with it. No big deal - we're professionals, we're librarians. This is what we do.

But a Monday when a man sneaks into the library, hides amongst the toys and the cartoon DVDs and the picturebooks and then exposes himself to a child?

Days like today make me very, very angry.

__________________

A policeman came to take a report. He walked the perimeter, making sure the pervert had left and asking people if they had seen anything. When I asked the policeman if he had checked the basement, he said, "I didn't even know the library had a basement!"

I feel very safe now. Oh, yes.

stylish and foolish

Consider this...

"Orange whistles are garish and weapons can easily be turned against you. Attackers rarely strike indiscriminately; they look for an easy target. A woman who projects confidence and direction is less likely to be targeted. The Subtle Safety Ring provides an at-hand reminder for the wearer to consider her personal safely and make choices that will avoid dangerous situations."

and this...

"To give the wearer confidence on a dark walk home, the aggressive point of the ring can be rotated outward so that the ring replaces the common practice of a woman placing her keys between her fingers."

So, before this idiocy continues, allow me to clarify something.


Simple concept, no?

writing is a process, please stay tuned

The seminar in Columbus yesterday was absolutely amazing. I took many pages of notes* and have quite a bit to mull over before writing a post. In fact, I'll probably end up writing multiple posts regarding what I learned from Dave Grossman and Bruce Siddle - they covered a lot of information, and in some ways, not nearly enough. I could have listened to them all day, for multiple days. We bought copies of Dave Grossman's books, On Killing and On Combat and I might skim those while getting my thoughts together.

We were lucky enough to sit in the front row with John D and Lady D, who had reserved seats for us. They are just the nicest people and we were so happy to meet them. I also met Brent Greer of The Ready Line, and many people from The Buckeye Firearms Association - I only wish we had more time to talk. We were offered two tickets to attend the U.S. Sportsmen's Alliance Foundation's "Save Our Heritage" Rally where John McCain would be speaking (via satellite) but decided against it, seeing how we weren't exactly dressed for a $60 a plate dinner and already had a 3 hour ride back to Willoughby.

Instead, we stopped at a gigantic Amish-style restaurant on the way home. The place was packed with Ohio Buckeye's fans. While we waited for our table, we wandered around the gift shop. And amidst the knickknacks, I found a full-length mirror. I stood in front of it and saw that although my pistol grip was covered (& printing like crazy), the muzzle of my pistol could clearly be seen hanging out the bottom of my shirt. "If someone actually noticed this, what would they think?" I wondered.

They probably wouldn't realize what they're seeing. A five foot tall woman, sniffing soy candles in a gift shop with a pistol on her hip. Incongruous. Doesn't compute. This might just be my secret weapon.

Anyway, more later - I'm off to Sunday** with my Mike. Bacon might be involved. Brain food, you know.

_______________

* I'm thinking of scanning them and making a Google Docs file to share, if possible (and if you think it might be something you'd read)

**use it as a verb, it makes sense)

our quest to become more tacticool

Thanks to the kindness and generosity of John D (blogger, blogreader, NRA training counselor, and fellow Ohioan) Mike and I are getting up early and driving to Columbus today. We will be going to a one-day workshop entitled "The Bulletproof Mind: Tactical Mindset for Armed Citizens." The presenter, Lt. Col. Dave Grossman, is an internationally recognized scholar, author, soldier, and speaker who is one of the world's foremost experts in the field of human aggression and the roots of violence and violent crime. He is the author of On Killing, a groundbreaking book nominated for a Pulitzer Prize and required reading for U.S. Marines and FBI trainees.

We are so grateful to the Buckeye Firearms Association for hosting the event and to John D for giving us the opportunity to attend.

(Open carry is permitted in the hall, so maybe I'll show off my pretty pink grips. And don't worry - I promise to take lots of notes.)

hue & cry

I've always been very sensitive to color - the wrong combination of colors can set my teeth on edge. (Oh, no...not the olive with the turquoise! I don't care if they're both green, Mike. Just no.) Patterns drive me crazy, which is why I'd rather look at the half-unfinished walls in our house than the variety of slate blue, burnt orange, and goldenrod country-fied wallpapers the previous owners had put up. But put a luscious cobalt next to the perfect crisp apple green? Bliss. A deep velvety eggplant next to a creamy golden ecru? Oh, my. Heaven.

I could go completely deaf tomorrow and never really miss music. But lose my beloved colors? Might as well just put me somewhere quiet so I can just whither away. When my father died, one of the things I knew I wanted was his old, beat-up book of calibrated colors. He was a union painter and would carry it with him to work everyday. When I was a child, I'd love to just marvel at all the slight differences in hue and gradation. I'd put colors side by side to see how they looked together and when I found a particularly good combination - it was as if something resonated within me. "Ahhhh," my brain seemed to say, humming with satisfaction. "Perfect."

And like a chef that can taste a dish, identify all the ingredients, and reproduce it, I can see a color and then copy it in paint. Or perhaps it's more like a musician with perfect pitch. Perfect palette perhaps? Whatever it's called, I think I might have it.

I took this test and got 100%.

the audacity of Ahab

When Mike and I went to Indianapolis to meet some of our most favorite bloggers, Mike came away so impressed with Ahab that for about a week after, he kept talking about how Ahab should be president some day.


"He's intelligent, good looking, well spoken, charismatic, he's correct politically, he'd put a shooting range in the White House...he'd be perfect. We should start the campaign today!"

Now it seems Mike has another reason.

A vote for Ahab is a vote for a new, more awesome America!

(thanks to graphics ninja Robb Allen for the terrific logo.)

bleg for our shutterbug

He defines the fight for our Second Amendment rights with beautiful images like these...

...but now Oleg Volk is fighting to win back The High Road. Please help him if you can.

oooooh, Breda likes!

The phlawlessly phashionable phabulous Phlegmfatale loves shopping for shoes. So much that she's now shoe shopping for other people.

Go see what she picked for me. (and picture them worn with a tweed pencil skirt.) Hot.

post podcast wrap-up

Despite lots of technical difficulties last night, Caleb and I seem to be finding our groove. I'm also less nervous and not relying as much on my (copious) notes, so the shows are sounding a lot better.

If you missed it, you can listen to the show here or use the little widget below:



Researching for the show really opened my eyes to a lot of nefarious, sneaky things people are doing to get Barack Obama elected and how most of it can be traced back to powerful, wealthy groups that are closely tied to liberal causes and the Democratic party. Over and over I've seen signs of astroturfing, groups dishonestly promoting themselves as non-partisan, and lies spread virally though the internet and then picked up by the media. It's insidious and, honestly, a little frightening.

Let me give you an example. Just two days ago, FactCheck.org ran a piece claiming that the NRA was lying about Barack Obama's record on guns and the Second Amendment. The media picked up on the story, reporting it as true because FactCheck claims to be non-partisan. (oh really?)

Well, let's see…FactCheck.org is a project of the Annenberg Public Policy Center, a subgroup of the Annenberg Foundation.

The Annenberg Foundation also has funded the Annenberg Challenge, hoping to "improve" public schools.

The Chicago Annenberg Challenge grant proposal was co-authored by William Ayers - 60's radical activist, unrepentant domestic terrorist and associate of Barack Obama who, coincidentally, was the first chairman of the CAC board. Needless to say, the Obama campaign has worked hard to downplay this connection.

So, is it me or do all these groups seem to have something in common?

And, not surprisingly, after the factcheckers got factchecked, quite a bit of it proved to be fiction. Hmm. Odd.

But by the time that came out, the mainstream media had already (intentionally?) moved on to something else, leaving us to believe that the NRA lied and Barack Obama supports the Second Amendment. In other words, "Move along folks, nothing to see here, your gun rights are safe, blah, blah, blah...and hey, did you hear? Lindsey and Clay have come out of the closet!"

So much for the truth, if it exists at all.

on Gun Nuts tonight...

Ahab and I will be investigating the lies the Obama campaign have been spreading about his stance on guns and the Second Amendment, his ties to astroturf smear campaigns, and his background in dirty Chicago politics. As always, we're welcoming callers!

Remember to tune in during our new timeslot at 9PM!

for Marko...

homage to the Kloos currywurst...

I have long admired Marko the Munchkin Wrangler. The first time I found his blog (probably through Tam), I was stunned at his writing. His powerful, well-reasoned thoughts were conveyed with such style and sensitivity that his blog instantly became one of my daily reads. He's one of those writers that inspire you to write and then challenge you to write better.

So when Marko asked me to guestblog for him today, I was incredibly honored.

We were all instructed to explore the theme of "Things That I Love" and as I wrote, I discovered that at the end of the day, only one thing mattered. You can read my post here.

Make sure to check out yesterday's post from Squeaky and check in the rest of this week to see what the other guestbloggers have to say. Enjoy!

most awesome library patrons ever!*

Last Saturday, two little boys came up to my desk. They put their heads together and whispered for a second, deciding who was going to actually ask me their question. Then the less shy boy very politely said, "Could you please help us find a book?"

"Of course!" I said. "What kind of book?" I opened a search in the library catalog, preparing to do some librarian-fu.

"A book about guns."

I blinked, stunned. The boys' eager little faces looked hopeful. I wondered if I was dreaming or if perhaps I was being rewarded for being a very, very good librarian in my last life.

I smiled at them and said, "I can definitely help you. What kind of gun book do you want? Anything specific?"

They looked at each other and then at me. "One with lots of color pictures."

I did a quick search, found a Dewey number and took the boys back in the stacks to find them a book. (A gun book! With color photos!) I grabbed a Gun Digest off the shelf and saw that there was a Ruger MarkII on the cover. "Hey, look!" I said. "I have one of these guns, but mine is black."

The boys' eyes widened and they said "Whoa! Cool!" and, "You do!?" and then they were off, telling me all about their bb guns and riffling through books and magazines. I was suddenly and most definitely now the coolest librarian in the whole wide world, at least to these two boys. They happily (& quietly!) spent about a half hour tracing pictures of guns and made a point to stop on their way out, thanking me and waving goodbye as they headed out into the sunny afternoon. Well mannered, friendly, and bright - true future gunnies in the making.

Contrast this with another little boy that was in our library a few months ago. He was at the computer, printing out pictures of the air rifle he had just received as a gift. When he came up to my desk to get his pages, a woman who worked at his school (who just happened to be asking me a reference question at the time) noticed the images he had printed out, and began interrogating him with "Why are you printing pictures of guns?" and "Do your parents know you like guns?"

The boy looked scared and glanced over at me as if to say, "Did I do something wrong?" He mumbled something at her about it being an air rifle and went back to his computer. Later, after she had left, I made a point to go over and talk to him, telling him that I like to shoot too and that I thought his air rifle was awesome. He shrugged and looked a bit disheartened.

I still regret not defending him sooner. The world might be even more perilous for the rights of future gun owners and we are the ones who have to encourage the next generation. So I've promised myself that if anything like that ever happened again, I would speak up. I'm looking forward to my chance.

*& hey -I might just stick with these types of titles from now on! Easy peasy.

most awesome range report ever! *

As we headed out to the range today, I asked Mike if he had packed any .45 ammunition.

"I have some .45 reloads for that Norinco I borrowed from Ed.** Why do you ask?"

"I'm just wondering. Do we have any regular stuff, a box of Winchester maybe?"

Mike looked puzzled for a second and then he realized what I was up to, "Ohhhh. You want to rent that Colt again...your gun."

I sighed. "Yeah. My gun." My gun that I can't afford, the one that I keep visiting at the range. My bittersweet love affair with a 1991A1. I must be a glutton for punishment because once in a while, when I'm feeling a bit blue, I like to rent it and torment myself. We spend a deeply meaningful and blissful hour together and then I look at it longingly as I leave it behind. "Maybe someday," I think, as I watch the man behind the counter put that beautiful gun back behind glass. Someday.

Anyway, I went to the range quite prepared to wallow in the little funk that I've been in lately but ended up having the absolute opposite experience. Life is funny like that.

I walked into the range, said hello as I usually do to the men who work there, and walked past a customer who made eye contact with me and exclaimed, "I know you!"

"Umm. No, you don't." I continued walking to the counter, getting ready to sign in.

He said something like, "You're on the internet! I read you all the time." (I can't remember the conversation verbatim, because at this point I was freaking out. Everything was lost in the blur of the giant zOMG! going off in my brain.)

I said,"I have no idea what you're talking about," but I'm sure I was blushing like a big goofball. I was also thinking, "Aw, crap. Why didn't I wash my hair and wear makeup today?" I mean, if I had only known...but I was wearing my "Action Hero" t-shirt, so I guess that's better than nothing.

At this point, Mike was so delighted he couldn't contain himself. "Yep! That's her!" I didn't look but I'm sure he had a huge grin on his face.

I owned up to authoring the blog (& by now the range guys were all asking, "Blog? What blog? Wait - are you famous? Why didn't you tell us? Give us the web address!") and talked politics and pistols for a long while with John, a local blog reader. John, an artist with a day job (sounds familiar), is somewhat new to shooting and is working on getting his CCW. I also learned that he has a wife who has never tried shooting and so, being totally shameless in my quest to create more chicks with guns, I immediately gave him my number.

So I've been smiling all afternoon - laughing at my tiny bit of fame, amazed at the wonderfulness of the internet, giddy at the tight little groupings I got from the Colt 1991A1, and just plain enjoying the last official Sunday of summer.

(And to all of you out there who read my blog but I may never be lucky enough to meet...thank you, thank you, thank you.)

____________________________

*I'm so full o' squee that I can't think of a better title. (and you know, often the hardest part of writing a blog is coming up with titles. Sometimes I'm so stymied that I just scrap the whole post.)

** Ed and Mike have been best friends since the year I was born. Ed was also the best man at our wedding, and has since become one of my very good friends too. Ed's father is currently teaching Mike how to cast bullets and reload.

bleg

Could you all pay a visit to my friend TBolt? He has a question he needs answered. You should also try to read him regularly because his blog is amazingly clever, frequently funny, chock full of interesting tidbits and very well-written. (Plus, lots of gun pictures!) Just don't mention zombies, it makes him a little nervous.

go, grandma!

She fought back and he ran away but 83-year old Elsie Barretto would still like to meet the man who tried to mug her:

"If you people find him do me a favor please and get him to me. He said 'OK, why?' So I can ask him why, why you did that to me? I did not do nothing to you why did you do this to me? And if he don't talk, you know whast I'm going to do? I'm going to punch him in right in the face and I'm gonna break his mouth and break his nose. To teach him a lesson," she said.

Police are asking the public for tips to help find him...before Elsie does.

Hoo boy.

This going to be fun. It's the last weekend of summer, the weather is gorgeous, and no surprise - the library is as quiet as, well...as a library should be. We've been open for an hour already and we only have one patron in the building.

My stomach is feeling a bit delicate because I think I ate a bad mussel last night, and my fingers are numb because the air conditioning is chugging away, still set on high for summer. Oh, and I'm here until 5 o'clock.

But I'm smiling - that is what they pay me for, right?

heh.

...but you all knew this already, didn't you?

(And now, I'm off to the range staying home and doing some housewifey things. And then maybe I'll read a book in the garden. All while wearing my gun. Nerdy gun chick!)

new & improved

You might notice I've made a couple of changes here at The Breda Fallacy.

First, I'm turning off the word verification doo-dad because having to reproduce eight letters all smooshed up in a strange curlicue font is probably just plain irritating for those of you who would like to comment.

Second, I have disabled the anonymous commenting because having to deal with cowards is just plain irritating for me. This blog uses my real first name and I am accountable for everything I write. I even post photos of myself. So if I am brave enough to do this, you should at least be able to put a name on your comments. Own up to whatever it is you have to say or don't say anything at all. Hiding behind anonymity is pathetic - grow a pair.

Okay, that's it. I have had ENOUGH.

Let me be the first to openly say this to the Left, because I simply cannot contain myself anymore. I'm even going to put it in large bold letters, just so it's very, very clear.

I QUESTION YOUR PATRIOTISM.
YES, I DO.
A LOT.



When you take money from the rich and give it to the poor, you only encourage people to be poor. Then the poor keep voting to give the government more and more power, willingly giving up their rights, because they rely on the government to care for them. Government loves this because all it really wants to do is control the people. This is also commonly referred to as wealth redistribution. You know who is really, really good at forced wealth redistribution? SOCIALISTS and COMMUNISTS. And despite lots of good intentions and far too many attempts, history tells us that it never ends well.

(click to enlarge)

cool like me!

If you listened to Gun Nuts last Tuesday, you probably heard that I have a "Guns Save Lives" bumpersticker on the back of my vehicle. (Yes, yes, okay. A minivan. There, I said it. A minivan, and I don't even have kids. Happy now?)

I'm sure you've all been wondering where you can get a sticker like mine just so you can put it on your bumper and drive around spreading the good word and scaring some people in the process. Look in your rearview mirror and watch the face of the driver behind you while you're both stopped at a red light - it's loads of fun, trust me. Well, until a police car pulls up behind you - that can be a little nerve wracking. (I kept my hands on top of the steering wheel the entire time he was running my license. He came back with a grin and let me off with a warning.)

I got my sticker for free (thanks to my good friend ClintK in Virginia), but by visiting the VCDL website and following some simple instructions, you can get yours for only $1! Buy a bunch and give them to all your gunnie friends because you never know...by changing a mind, you really might just save a life.

odd girl out

I have very wonderful female friends. They are amazing people and I am so grateful to know them and to be able to have them in my life. I love them all very much but...I don't like most women. It's hard for me to admit this because, despite my great affection for humanity in general, I know I carry this horrible character flaw.

Someone very close to me once called me a "freak of nature" - and I think sometimes he might be right. Put me in a group of women and in a few short minutes I'm looking for an exit. (or barring that, large amounts of alcohol) I've wished for that phone call - the one where my mother needs to be taken to the doctor, or my husband has a flat tire and needs to be rescued on a roadside somewhere, or hell, even the one where the library is in the middle of an enormous Dewey decimal emergency - hoping for anything, anything, to save me from having conversations about People magazine, potty training, that fabulous dip recipe, television shows I've never seen, the newest Jodi Picoult novel, and the latest workplace gossip. I have even considered licking doorknobs in the height of flu season just so I'd have a real excuse to skip a bridal shower.

Now, I admit, most of this is probably due to my impatience, snobbishness, lack of empathy, selfishness, whatever - but it's also because I know how a lot of these gatherings end...

The Bitchfest.

Women bitch about everything: their families, their jobs, their kids, their husbands - and they especially love to bitch about other women. The undercurrents of meanness - both spoken and unspoken - in many of these conversations would probably astonish the uninitiated but I, like most other women, have been witness to it my entire life.

Well behaved women, it's said, seldom make history...but women who aren't well behaved seldom make friends. There is sometimes an element of fear and mistrust when women interact with each other, and rightly so. We learn early that if you dare be yourself, your life will soon become fodder for the gossip mill. (trust me, there are few things in this world more vicious than a middle school girl) Women, long been thought to be the ones best at communicating and conveying emotions, fail miserably when they have to deal with anger and jealousy - and frequently turn to cattiness to compensate.

The entire world recently got a glimpse of this dirty little secret, this long running psychological war. Professional, educated female writers were so rattled by the GOP's vice presidential nomination of Sarah Palin that their illusion of a great supportive sisterhood slipped away, leaving only the ugly truth - "real" feminists have to be exactly the same. Fall out of line by unapologetically believing something different than the rest of them and suddenly you're not even a real woman. And so, with carefully crafted "grrlpower" façades completely shattered and their true selves fully exposed, these women reduced themselves to nothing more than spiteful, malicious little girls in the the locker room, spreading lies about a rival.

"She's such a bimbo!" one crows. Another giggles and adds, "...oh my Gawd - and what's with her shoes?" Laughter ensues and someone else says, "Puh-lease...have you seen her hair?" At this, there is much disgusted eye-rolling. "And, did you know? She hunts- with guns. Eeeew, like how totally redneck!" Another nods in agreement, saying, "Yeah...and she's not really that smart, you know."

We all know that women like this are secretly miserable, insecure creatures at their core, seething with adolescent hatred and envy. I suppose I should pity them, but I can't. They're worse than a nest of vipers. My only hope is that they'll soon be poisoned by their own venom...and oh, and how it will sting.

on the radio. (again)

My buddy Caleb of Call Me Ahab practically begged me to fill in on his radio show, now that Bonnie is on hiatus. He sounded kind of pathetic and he's really very sweet - how could I possibly say no?

So I guess I'm going to be trying my hand at guest-co-hosting on Gun Nuts: The Next Generation for a little while. Tune in tonight at 9PM (new! earlier time!) for 60 minutes (new! longer show!) of me flying by the seat of my pants, live! Whoohoo!

UPDATE: I guess I passed the co-host test - my first stint as a Gun Nut went really well! Thank you so much to those of you who called in. I think getting feedback from listeners is my favorite part of the show.

And if you missed the show - you can listen to it here.

First Dude

Todd Palin - rugged Alaskan, hardworking husband, loving father of 5 - admires his wife so much that he's always believed she was destined for greatness.

No wonder Sarah grins when she says that after 20 years, he's "still her guy."

wait for it....

I've got a post or three coming, I swear. There are some issues that have really been bugging me but unfortunately, the library is busy this morning and this is about all I can manage.

But in the meantime...seems someone found more evidence of my (not so) stealthy plans to take over the world. I have my own beer, shotguns, and now buses. You never know where The Breda will strike next. Keep your eyes peeled! (eew.)

TWACK! ZOT! BIFF!

Mousy librarian goes batty!

Friday funny!

Pundit Barbie! Now with 50% more silicone!

(and I'm sure The Sarahcuda is thrilled to be getting such good advice, seeing how it's come from a renowned expert and all.)

Happy Friday!

I have a thrilling day off planned for myself. I'm going to go scoop 6 cats' worth of poop out of the litterbox and then lug the vacuum up the stairs to our bedroom. I will hoover the place very thoroughly because there are spiders lurking in there, I just know it. I might make myself an egg and cheese sandwich if I get hungry and then sneak in a little chocolate ice cream for dessert - I'm wild like that, you know. I've got plans to fold that big laundry basket full of sheets and then - if I survive all this excitement, I'll make a casserole! Whoopee! Somebody stop me! And maybe a little later, I'll go really crazy and shave my legs. The glamorous life of a blogstress never stops.

a day like any other

The library is the same today as it's always been...books are being checked in and out, children are running through the stacks, the toilet in the men's room is overflowing, the mouse for computer #2 has stopped working, and people are laughing - even on a day so heavy with emotion.

Business as usual can be a comfort but I had to go into the library director's office this morning and remind her to ask the janitor to lower the flag to half staff. She seemed surprised in an "Oh! is that today?" sort of way, as blasé about it as if she had forgotten to pick up her drycleaning. So much for a sunrise-to-sunset remembrance...it was late morning before anyone got around to it.

People shuffled past my desk as they always do, sometimes stopping to ask for help or just to sign in for a computer. A woman spent three hours putting together an online jigsaw puzzle, I went to the basement to get movies out of storage, people asked for today's newspaper, and it was 2 o'clock in the afternoon before anyone even mentioned what happened on this date. Jimmy B. came in, more solemn than usual. He stood on a rooftop in New York City 7 years ago today and took pictures of the towers crumbling down. He packed up his life and moved back to Ohio not long after. Each September, he totes around a little black photo album filled with images of unspeakable horror, of the moment the world changed forever, of the day that reminded us all that we should love and live like there is no tomorrow.

The kids came in after school at 3 and I wondered if their teachers mentioned 9/11 at all, seeing how history classes have become a minefield of political correctness and guilt. News moves so fast, facts get distorted and suddenly no one knows the truth anymore, so what's the point? Teenagers check their Myspace pages and move through a world with no sharp edges - they're too young to know life as it was before thousands of innocents were murdered on American soil.

The great forgetting has begun, and although I suppose I should be reassured with such glaring evidence that life does indeed go on, I've felt very alone all day in my remembering.

Out of the blue...

Who of us will ever forget that September sky?

...and how such beauty can be blotted out by hate and horror and ash.

If you can, watch this poem by Simon Armitage.
4 parts: to help you remember.

excuse me?

What did you say?
Oh, it's on now, Barack. It's on.

Barack “even if I want to take [your guns] away, I don’t have the votes in Congress’’ Obama - the same man, incidentally, who promised to bar citizens nationwide from receiving concealed carry permits during his 2004 Senate campaign - suddenly thinks guns are perfectly fine and useful objects...but only if they are used to protect his daughters.

Not all of us are so privileged. So, until the day comes that I have my very own Secret Service detail, I will protect myself. I will carry my own gun. I deserve to be safe - I am somebody's daughter too, Mr. Obama.

(found over at SayUncle)

ugh.

I woke up at 4 AM feeling slightly more than marginally awful, read the whole internet (which was the same internet as the night before), and managed to get back to sleep at 7.

I had breakfast at noon.

I'll write something later, promise. In the meantime, here's an amusing cat photo.

(looks like Tighe had a little too much catnip)

gunnie love

Some husbands might bring their wives a bouquet of flowers or maybe a box of chocolates when they come home late from the gun show...I got a new magazine for the Ruger Mark II.

And while shopping for deals on reloading supplies, Mike also found inspiration for a new blog post.
Go read.

sweet meat

The company Mike works for had their annual steak roast yesterday and, as usual, the wives were instructed to bring an appetizer. I'm not fond of making appetizers - they always seems like a waste. All that work and you usually end up with a runny mess of leftover dip, a tray of flaccid vegetables, and a platter of cold soggy sauerkraut balls that you have to throw in the trash at the end of the night - or the next morning, depending on how much you drank.

But having been given the task of presenting something delicious to Mike's boss(!) and the other wives(!), I started to get anxious. I deliberated between brie en croute and Vietnamese summer rolls. Delicious, sure - but too fancy, too complicated. So just as I was about to throw up my hands in defeat and resort to cocktail weenies, Mike made a suggestion...

Pig Candy

The ingredients couldn't be simpler - bacon, brown sugar, some ginger powder and maybe a little cayenne for heat.

Cut the bacon in half, coat both sides of each slice in the sugar mixture and put the slices on a broiler pan. Add a little more of the sugar on top and bake at 350°F for 18-20 minutes. Cool on a rack over some newspaper or paper towels.

(Be very careful when you take the bacon out of the oven. The mixture of hot grease and melted sugar would be very painful indeed.)






Sticky, sweet, spicy, crunchy, chewy, salty, smoky...
perfection.






The pig candy was a hit and confirmed my theory that, unless you're going to a mosque or a bar mitzvah, you can't ever go wrong with bacon. I was repeatedly asked for the recipe and mine was the only appetizer plate on the buffet* that was empty. Always make more than you think you'll need.

*A chocolate fountain was also on the buffet. And yes, chocolate covered pig candy is as decadent and as scrumptious as it sounds.

freedom isn't free

(found at Ace of Spades)

slo-mo

(thanks to my WarhammerFRP buddy, Mark, for emailing me the video)

tapped out

Mike gave me a beer and sent me to the basement to sit in front of the computer until I come up with something since I haven't written anything today. I think my last post plumb wore me out. I was so inspired after watching Sarah Palin's speech that I immediately had a blog post just burbling up inside me, but I was so excited that I just couldn't do it justice. I wrote a little, read speech analyses, went to bed and then lay awake a long time until I decided to get up again. I padded down to the computer in my pajamas and glasses trying to not disturb my husband and thoroughly confusing the cats, determined to get my thoughts in order... and it was 3 AM before I was finally able to make sense of that jumble of words and emotion. I woke up early(-ish) Thursday morning and edited some more before I was satisfied enough to publish.

And today? Well, today I was at the library. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

Hope.

I sat in front of the television last night, hands tightly clasped and heart in my throat. The stakes were high - this speech was so important. "Oh, please. Please let it be great," I whispered.

I wasn't disappointed.

Strong and beautiful, Sarah Palin walked across that big stage alone and, despite knowing that millions of eyes were watching her carry the weight of history and the future of the GOP on her shoulders, she never faltered. And amidst wild applause, she stood before the nation and accepted the party's nomination for Vice President of the United States. She looked sure. She looked ready.

Her speech was, in a word, brilliant. I'll leave the analysis for those who do that sort of thing for a living because all I can honestly do is gush and wax poetic. We all know a woman like Sarah - the unapologetically smart, boldly determined chick who can hang with the guys without ever losing the best qualities of being female. The one who puts on lipgloss to beat you in a debate. The one who has read books you've never even heard of and laughs at jokes that would make your mother blush. The one who works hard and loves fearlessly. The one who can shoot a moose in the morning and cook it for dinner that night. The one who lives her life as she chooses, never asking for approval. The one who lesser women hate and real women want as a best friend. The one who you should never, ever underestimate because she will make it her life's work to prove you wrong.

America has a new hero - and she wears heels.

close to home

There was a school shooting in Willoughby yesterday, one mile from my house.

A boy entered the school distraught, heartbroken, and intent on suicide. He fired two shots, put the gun to his head and was quickly talked down by school administrators. Just a very dramatic and dangerous cry for help and thankfully, no one was injured.

Calls for metal detectors and armed guards have already begun because parents are left terrified by the idea that someone could actually smuggle a gun into the school....it is a gun-free zone and all, you know.

*little rant: How long will it take before people put 2 and 2 together? That the gun-free zone sign means nothing? It is not a magical object, warding off evil. No crazed murderer with a gun, intent on mayhem and bloodshed will be stopped by that sign. It only limits my ability to protect myself. Every day that I go to work I pass through a door with one of those signs on it and I am unarmed because...because...actually I don't know why. Is it because I am dangerous? More dangerous than the policeman who comes in fully armed to the library? I had a full background check, got my fingerprints taken, deemed A-OK by the state. Is it because guns are scary? If that's the case, get over it - I did. I am (so very very) tired of babying people who choose to remain ignorant. I am sorry if guns make you nervous but the thought of being attacked, murdered, or raped because I was stripped of the best tool to defend myself with makes me even more uncomfortable.

Listen to me!

If you missed the last time I was on Gun Nuts: TNG, you now have another chance to hear me live on BlogTalkRadio! (I'll be less nervous this time, promise.)

I'll be chatting with Caleb of Call Me Ahab about my first Appleseed shoot*, and hopefully some other shooty stuff too. All callers with comments and personal experiences would be very welcome because, as you all know, I'm no expert on rifles or the Appleseed program. I'll also be happy to answer all non-Appleseed related questions, too.

Be sure to tune in tonight! Gun Nuts starts at 11PM!

*(blogged: pt.1, pt. 2, pt.3)

hooray for Jay!

My friend JayG at MArooned has joined the Chicks With Guns cause! Over the holiday weekend, he introduced a woman to the shooting sports. He did everything right (double plug, start with a .22, etc) and was rewarded with the renowned gunchick grin and a rave review from the newbie shooter herself!

Bristol

It happens so quickly...a heartbeat, ten perfect toes, a face. I have seen a miracle - infinite potential created from a single, small moment in time. And even if it's conceived under less than ideal circumstances, I wouldn't ever call a baby, a new human life, a punishment.

So a young girl had an error in judgment...but she has been treated with love and compassion and has been given unconditional support. She has chosen life - may she know the full joy of it.


*not interested in the pro-choice/pro-life debate. If you simply must have that argument, do it elsewhere, because I don't want to hear it. My views on the topic will not change.

Leisure

Writing is not exactly back-breaking work, but I still took today off to enjoy cheeseburgers, beer and a nap in the shade of my magnolia tree. (I meant to read but, well...you know how things go).

An evening of ice cream and watching the sun set over Lake Erie should ensure a Labor-free Day.