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The Steel-Toed Wellington Boots
Jun. 2nd, 2018 12:20 amIt's sometime around noon, I'm in the basement, and I've just loaded a fresh CO2 cartridge into Christopher Crosman. Then the phone rings. I look at the screen and it's the grandson, so I answer it.
"Yup?"
"Poppa!"
"Yup!"
"What're ya doing?"
"Shooting. What's up?"
"Do you think we could get something to eat?"
"Why aren't you in school?"
"They're on a field trip and I don't do field trips."
"Hmm. Well, OK, I just bought the stuff to make chili. Should I pick you up before or after I make it?"
"Can you just pick me up now?"
"OK, see you in a few."
Actually, I wasn't quite ready to leave. You can't leave an open CO2 cartridge in a 2300KT because it'll ruin the seals.
So I proceeded to take the 20 or so shots that I'd found Christopher Crosman was good for before the .22 pellets start dropping below the aim point. No point in wasting a perfectly good 12g cartridge. Or wrecking the seals on a virtually new custom build.
After that, I ditched the spent cartridge, capped the 3-9x32 scope, and removed the adjustable extension that I'd built for the stock. And then shut off the lights and brought Christopher upstairs.
Because I've always told the kids that we treat these things like firearms, I stowed "CC" in his case and locked him away before leaving the house.
On the way back from picking up the grandson, I stopped at Wegman's to pick up a ready-made garden salad and croissants to go with the chili. The salad's a little pricey, but I figure for the time saved and the waste avoided by not buying ingredients that I'd likely never get around to using, it's actually better to buy it that way.
While I was in the store, the grandson sat in the car and fiddled with his phone, as he usually does, but I still got him a donut for dessert. I didn't get one for myself because I don't eat that crap.
Back at the house, he did some more fiddling with the phone while I divvied up the salad and made the chili. It's a recipe that I got from one of the sisters-in-law, some years ago, and adjusted over time into something that we all like. The grandson's little sister, the famously-mouthy Ashley, said that if he could, that's all her brother would eat.
Over dinner, we talked about things like the NBA playoffs, his aversion to socializing with people he doesn't know, and how you go about getting your first job. I mentioned words like "entry level" and "networking" and suggested that he make an early start at building his Social Security account--because he'd asked how retirement works.
He opined that his dad was like a kid because he'd never stayed at a job very long, due to his short attention span, and I agreed. But he also said that his dad had gotten a promotion, where he now works, and I said that I hoped it would work out for him. I've gotten over holding my breath.
I also bored him with a story from the old 35th Street neighborhood where I grew up. I'll probably tell the same one here, at some point, so be sure and stay tuned. It'll likely be as painful for adults as it was for the kid. I mention that in case you need something to look forward to.
After that, we finished up and I asked him if he wanted some of the chili to take home and he said yes. I also reminded him to grab the donut to take home too.
As I was dropping him off at his mom's, he asked if I'd come back later to drive him to a friend's house where he sometimes spends part of the weekend.
I said that I would, as long as he cleared it with his mom.
Then I drove over to the local Target (pronounced "Tar-jhe," around here, because we're just that classy) and bought an olive green denim sports jacket that was on sale for half price. Because, if you're classy like we are, you've gotta walk the walk, as well as talk the talk.
Anyway, I figure it'll look good with my Mossy Oak tee shirt and Dickies carpenter pants. Especially when worn with, you know, the steel-toed Wellington boots...
LPK
Dreamwidth
6.2.2018
"Yup?"
"Poppa!"
"Yup!"
"What're ya doing?"
"Shooting. What's up?"
"Do you think we could get something to eat?"
"Why aren't you in school?"
"They're on a field trip and I don't do field trips."
"Hmm. Well, OK, I just bought the stuff to make chili. Should I pick you up before or after I make it?"
"Can you just pick me up now?"
"OK, see you in a few."
Actually, I wasn't quite ready to leave. You can't leave an open CO2 cartridge in a 2300KT because it'll ruin the seals.
So I proceeded to take the 20 or so shots that I'd found Christopher Crosman was good for before the .22 pellets start dropping below the aim point. No point in wasting a perfectly good 12g cartridge. Or wrecking the seals on a virtually new custom build.
After that, I ditched the spent cartridge, capped the 3-9x32 scope, and removed the adjustable extension that I'd built for the stock. And then shut off the lights and brought Christopher upstairs.
Because I've always told the kids that we treat these things like firearms, I stowed "CC" in his case and locked him away before leaving the house.
On the way back from picking up the grandson, I stopped at Wegman's to pick up a ready-made garden salad and croissants to go with the chili. The salad's a little pricey, but I figure for the time saved and the waste avoided by not buying ingredients that I'd likely never get around to using, it's actually better to buy it that way.
While I was in the store, the grandson sat in the car and fiddled with his phone, as he usually does, but I still got him a donut for dessert. I didn't get one for myself because I don't eat that crap.
Back at the house, he did some more fiddling with the phone while I divvied up the salad and made the chili. It's a recipe that I got from one of the sisters-in-law, some years ago, and adjusted over time into something that we all like. The grandson's little sister, the famously-mouthy Ashley, said that if he could, that's all her brother would eat.
Over dinner, we talked about things like the NBA playoffs, his aversion to socializing with people he doesn't know, and how you go about getting your first job. I mentioned words like "entry level" and "networking" and suggested that he make an early start at building his Social Security account--because he'd asked how retirement works.
He opined that his dad was like a kid because he'd never stayed at a job very long, due to his short attention span, and I agreed. But he also said that his dad had gotten a promotion, where he now works, and I said that I hoped it would work out for him. I've gotten over holding my breath.
I also bored him with a story from the old 35th Street neighborhood where I grew up. I'll probably tell the same one here, at some point, so be sure and stay tuned. It'll likely be as painful for adults as it was for the kid. I mention that in case you need something to look forward to.
After that, we finished up and I asked him if he wanted some of the chili to take home and he said yes. I also reminded him to grab the donut to take home too.
As I was dropping him off at his mom's, he asked if I'd come back later to drive him to a friend's house where he sometimes spends part of the weekend.
I said that I would, as long as he cleared it with his mom.
Then I drove over to the local Target (pronounced "Tar-jhe," around here, because we're just that classy) and bought an olive green denim sports jacket that was on sale for half price. Because, if you're classy like we are, you've gotta walk the walk, as well as talk the talk.
Anyway, I figure it'll look good with my Mossy Oak tee shirt and Dickies carpenter pants. Especially when worn with, you know, the steel-toed Wellington boots...
LPK
Dreamwidth
6.2.2018
