Neanderpundit

there isn’t much in the way of anything you can say. I think today of my uncle Calvin, and I realize words can’t do very much to portray the things that happened, the feelings of those it happened to, the memories.

Today we went to the Indy 1500, (though it seemed more like the Indy 250), and Partner bought a 1911 Infantry rifle, damn his eyes. I haven’t seen such a fine example in my life. We got the old timer selling it down to (undisclosed amount far below it’s value). He also took home an excellent smle, with only a few stock patches and a perfect bore.

And then he found a Krag bayonet. Looking so perfect it looked like it was all stainless, in the steel scabbard.

I managed to buy nothing at all, probably a good idea, for me.

Then we retired to Brigid’s, where we ate outselves stupid, Partner, Rich, and I. We were joined in our gustatory adventures by Midwest Chick and Mr B.

We could probably have sat and yapped all afternoon, but the opiate laced dessert was taking it’s toll on me, and the time came to leave.

I suppose that enjoying ourselves on D day is the very best way we can remember and celebrate the sacrifice of all those that came- and went- before. They died so we could have enjoyable sunday afternoons with friends in little fear. Say a little prayer tonight in remembrance. And be jealous of those of us who were lucky enough to eat Brigid’s cooking today.

in even modest quantities tend to be, to me, like eating a hand grenade. And I love them so.

Today, i managed to make it to westforths unaffected, but on the way to Blythes I felt the Call, and manged to do things to their customer crapper that are best undescribed.

At least it flushed.