June 15
We go into town, and I drop Sarah at the Wal-Mart to buy wheat and canned goods. I drive over to the hardware store, which sells reloading supplies. Their prices have gone up again, but they have what I need: hollow point bullets and H4350 smokeless powder for the bolt-action .270, and flat-nose bullets and BL-C(2) powder for the lever action 30-30. I pick up enough to reload five hundred rounds of each.
I didn’t used to have much use for guns. In the city, people live too close together. Tempers flare too easily, and having a gun handy can create results that cannot be undone. Up here in the country, things are different. We don’t live so close together. In fact, we’re so spread out that a handful of sheriff’s deputies patrol an area of 3,300 square miles. The first time I went out of town on business, someone came to the gate in the middle of the night and scared the hell out of Sarah. The dogs scared him away, but it made me change my attitude. I don’t ever want her to get hurt, and with a cop maybe an hour or more away, that means she needs to be able to defend herself. I got her a nine millimeter pistol and a twelve-gauge shotgun, and taught her how to shoot them both. She got pretty good. When we got the chickens, we had to start worrying about coyotes, and that meant a rifle. And since we had to practice in order to stay comfortable, that meant shooting. I found that I liked it, and over the years I acquired more guns. Sarah didn’t object, but she didn’t fully share my enthusiasm. She recognizes the utility of having firearms around. She’s quite good with both the pistol and the 30-30. We just pray neither of us ever has to use one in self defense.
Sarah calls me on my cell phone and asks where I am.
"Still at the hardware store," I tell her. "I'm leaving now to come pick you up." I don't mention that I'm at the sporting goods counter, coveting a Springfield Model 1911 .45 caliber pistol. I don't have the money for it anyway.
A few minutes later, we're loading a hundred pounds of wheat berries and fifty pounds of flour into the trunk of the car, along with bags and bags of canned goods.
"I bought out the store," Sarah says.
I assume she's joking.
I didn’t used to have much use for guns. In the city, people live too close together. Tempers flare too easily, and having a gun handy can create results that cannot be undone. Up here in the country, things are different. We don’t live so close together. In fact, we’re so spread out that a handful of sheriff’s deputies patrol an area of 3,300 square miles. The first time I went out of town on business, someone came to the gate in the middle of the night and scared the hell out of Sarah. The dogs scared him away, but it made me change my attitude. I don’t ever want her to get hurt, and with a cop maybe an hour or more away, that means she needs to be able to defend herself. I got her a nine millimeter pistol and a twelve-gauge shotgun, and taught her how to shoot them both. She got pretty good. When we got the chickens, we had to start worrying about coyotes, and that meant a rifle. And since we had to practice in order to stay comfortable, that meant shooting. I found that I liked it, and over the years I acquired more guns. Sarah didn’t object, but she didn’t fully share my enthusiasm. She recognizes the utility of having firearms around. She’s quite good with both the pistol and the 30-30. We just pray neither of us ever has to use one in self defense.
Sarah calls me on my cell phone and asks where I am.
"Still at the hardware store," I tell her. "I'm leaving now to come pick you up." I don't mention that I'm at the sporting goods counter, coveting a Springfield Model 1911 .45 caliber pistol. I don't have the money for it anyway.
A few minutes later, we're loading a hundred pounds of wheat berries and fifty pounds of flour into the trunk of the car, along with bags and bags of canned goods.
"I bought out the store," Sarah says.
I assume she's joking.
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