Last Commented Lifestyle Blogs (2,471)

Yesterday I deleted my blog because someone said something that offended me. Today I think I will hide my profile; possibly reinstating it tomorrow but without a profile pic. Tomorrow I will probably write a blog about another blogger who said something to me in one of my blogs that I didn’t like. I won’t actually mention their name but I will leave enough clues to make it very clear who I am having a tantrum over. After a day or two, if I’m feeling up to it, I might put my picture back on my profile. But then, out of the blue, will come my announcement that I am leaving the site forever, due to my total disillusionment with the human race, particularly its representatives who are members of this site.

But what I will never, ever, ever do, is take this place too seriously.

Nothing really to blog about. I figured I would try about the reptilians but nobody thought that was dinner conversation. I was going to write a series II about men and their nipples, but figured that would be equally not appealing at the dinner table. Maybe about my Saturday? I figured, why not.

Got drunk...for the first time since Thanksgiving....same result as that too.

It seems that I am a very happy drunk.

I bought two pitchers of Snake Nuts at the first bar, me about 3 other people finished those off. A friend of mine brought up the perfect idea at the perfect time....take a shot of Snake Nuts through our nose. So, I tried it.

It was fun. lol

So, my buddy Bert and his girlfriend decided it would be a good idea to go to another bar. There, I had an equally good time. I bought another pitcher of Snake Nuts and I was throwing shot plastic glasses down the bar at others who just had to try it with me...and...yes...I told them about my new found way of taking shots. For some reason, I was the only one snorting it through my nose. Geez...people don't know how to have fun
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radio stories so interesting, I'm missing out on sleep. So, this debate over endless growth (Economic, population), in the face of limited space and resources. As usual, it's much more nuanced than either side admits. Thesis, antithesis, synthesis.....the ancient Greeks knew.

As I mentioned in my previous blog I had a dream. Well we found a sailboat in the Azores. Let me show you my boat.


Cockpit and entrance



Galley



Lounge



Indoor dining area



Navigation table.

Words do not adequately describe how annoying and frustrating it can be to even work with screws or bolts this tiny (shown on a quarter), much less drill and tap accurately placed bolt holes for them in tough hardened steels.



An even greater joy occurs when a hardened tap snaps in two half way down the new bolt hole and said tap turns out to be made of harder steel than the drill bits available. Of course when that happens, even after you somehow manage to more or less remove the tap, the hole is now over sized and must be welded shut, then smoothed and re-drilled, then re-tapped (with a new not yet broken tap) and threaded.

So what things do you do for fun?

The man at the check out next to mine at the supermarket last Saturday had a funny turn recently; I know that because I heard his wife telling someone. I was glad she wasn’t my wife; I wouldn’t like my funny turns to become public knowledge. For an habitual eavesdropper like me, supermarkets are good places to indulge the habit. Many is the time I have taken longer than necessary to come to a decision about which washing up liquid I most like the look of in order not to miss vital information being exchanged between chatting shoppers, mistakenly thinking they are having a private conversation.

I find women's conversations are the most interesting. Men usually just talk about work or sport, whereas women seem to be more interested in things of a personal nature. It can be quite an eye opener. I often wonder how many thousands of husbands there must be up and down the country under the delusion that their embarrassing medical conditions are family secrets.

If I see someone I know when I am shopping, I usually dodge down the next aisle in order to avoid them. I can’t see the attraction of prolonging my shopping trip by wasting time nattering, but I appreciate those who can.

At first, I was daunted at the thought of living on my own. For the previous sixty years of my life I had no need of the rocket science necessary to operate a washing machine, nor the skilful dexterity necessary to neatly fold a fitted bed sheet. When it came to it, I was relieved to find that what I required of myself wasn’t nearly as challenging as I had feared.

The trick is to not be a perfectionist. I learnt that lesson early on and have stuck to the principle rigorously. Another thing I’ve realised is that lots of chores I always assumed to be essential aren’t always even necessary, and can be dispensed with completely. Ironing is one such mystic art that I do not concern myself with; I find that wrinkled clothes not only match my complexion, they also suit my personality.

Regular cleaning is another concept I have debunked. Working out the frequency at which it should be performed confused me to begin with, but I have refined a strategy whereby I can tell when it needs doing by the prominence of the patterns my daily activities have left in the dust on my furniture. My rule is to do something about it within one month of it starting to bother me. My wall calendar enables me to keep track of how long I have exceeded my deadline by.

Cooking seems to be my biggest problem area. Co-ordinating varying cooking times so that everything crosses the finishing line simultaneously can only be coped with when the variants are no more than two in number. Having no one else here to vent my temper on means I need to avoid losing it, so I try to keep things as simple as possible. This makes maintaining an interesting diet difficult, but thanks to patient advice from a much appreciated source, I feel I am making steady progress. Seldom in my life have I felt more proud than when I achieved my first edible risotto.

All in all I don’t think I’m doing too badly. My daughter was amazed; she expected me to be living in squalor and popping out to McDonald’s every night. I think she’s impressed.

It's a great feeling on Friday night, knowing I don't have to get up on Saturday at the same time as I do in the week; yet I always do get up at the same time.

Texas -2017
The old man in Texas I talked to on the phone told me it was his grandfather's. Allegedly his grandfather, a town constable back then, had picked it up at the scene of a shooting back around the turn of the century. Back in those days that meant the grandfather now owned it.

There was some haggling over the price. A true negative was the seller had no idea what the caliber was and that all inscriptions that may answer that had worn off long, long ago. His father had told him he and the grandfather had fired off the last of the ammunition they had for the pistol back when the father was a boy. Then it was wrapped in a rag and pretty much forgotten about for the next 40 years.

We finally agreed upon a $200 price for what was essentially a paperweight or just a curio without ammunition and a little paperwork and a mailed money order later UPS delivered a package to my front door.

Oh, it was rough. The rag they wrapped it in had acted like a wick and held moisture against the iron frame.. Oil and fine steel wool. Almost every vestige or writing had literally pitted away. Still there was no denying what it was. A Colt 'Peace Maker' Model 1873 Single Action Army (SAA) revolver, 1st Generation. Hot damn.



What more could be learned about this 'paper weight'? Only vestiges of a serial number remained, but the number appears in 4 places and filling in the missing numbers of one location was thus easily done. A letter to Colt Firearms soliciting information regarding that serial number was soon sent. Later it was learned Colt had shipped the weapon off to a sporting goods store in Colorado in 1881. At that time the caliber was .44-40 and the barrel was 7 1/2" long.

I confirmed the barrel's ID was still 0.42". However, someone had installed a shorter 4 3/4" barrel. This was not uncommon in the bad old days of the Wild Wild West. I tried a .44-40 round, it didn't fit. Too wide. Someone had swapped out the cylinder for a different caliber. I tried a .44 Special (invented in 1904) but that was about 0.2" too long. Research determined the only cartridge in America in the 1880s that would fit was .44 S&W Russian a black powder cartridge. AKA 11.18X24R mm. A very popular cartridge in both the US and Europe and even Asia. From 1889 through 1905 Colt offered barrels, cylinders and complete firearms in this caliber. In 1905 such items were marked as .44 Special/.44 Russian and both cartridges would fit in the post 1905 cylinders. So mine is an early cylinder type.

Like automobiles and PCs, every few years gun makers and ammunition makers introduce a new model and cartridge, then discontinue support for older models. My problem was both S&W and Winchester, America's two top ammo makers, had not made .44 S&W ammunition since the 1960s.

So I visited a public firing range and from the floor there I collected a few dozen used .44 Special and .44 magnum cases. Bringing them home I shortened them and with some black powder and my bullet mould I made new .44 S&W Russian ammunition.



I am pleased to report the old pistol functions like new. The mechanism timing is perfect and with the new ammunition supply the gun speaks with a flash and a roar as it should.