As my dad likes to say.  The cold in my throat that I had last weekend apparently went into hiding for a few days and reappeared in my sinuses.  I'm so stopped up that I can't hardly walk straight, and my nose feels like it's on fire.  So it looks like my day off will be spent at home, taking cold medicine and maybe sleeping a little.

Last night we had another school function, this time for kindergarten (my son's grade), which I suffered through for him even though the room was spinning around me the whole time.  They demonstrated some Texas history and stuff they had been learning, and sang a few songs like "Ol' Tex" and "Deep in the Heart of Texas."  Some of the kids held up pictures of various Texan places and things and spoke about them, like the bluebonnet, the mockingbird, the armadillo, and the Alamo.  For the Alamo, they said something like, "At the Alamo, Texan forces fought for independence.  The Alamo is a symbol of our freedom."  Simplistic, yes, but there was an uproar of applause.  It was very heart-warming.

Having some bad allergy problems today, just when I felt like I was completely recovered from the throat cold I had last weekend.

Friday is the big Fiesta Friday, a paid day off for certain employees in the area such as myself.


I'm planning on a long-overdue range day on Friday at Bullethole.  And possibly some strategic browsing at Sportsman's Warehouse.

The picture has nothing to do with anything.

Last night we went to a school function put on by the first graders.  Each kid had to dress up as some famous person and learn a short (30-second) spiel about that person.  They also had to use at least one "prop" as part of their costume.  There were several kids who used a toy gun as a prop, like Davy Crockett, Daniel Boone, William Travis, and Annie Oakley.  There was one kid running around before everything got started who I couldn't guess.  My best guess was that he was Elliot Ness.  I was wrong.  He was Al Capone.  That really cracked me up.

My daughter went as Reba McEntire.

Yesterday I left a final cut-off notice at a certain house and as I turned to walk away I heard a woman inside the house shout, "Excuse me sir!"

[Insert Napoleon Dynamite sigh of exasperation here.]

So I turned around, expecting to hear some excuses or something, but instead I heard, "Do you have any matches?"

That question was so unexpected that I thought I had misunderstood, so I said, "What?"

"Matches," she insisted.  "Do you have any matches?"

"No...sorry."  And then I tried to add, "I'm just delivering--"

But it was too late.  She had already shut the door.

So...she saw a strange person suddenly show up on her doorstep and the only thing was was concerned about was if I had any matches.

I just don't get some people.

Getting a very good return, but won't be buying a gun with it.  A little of it will go to buying fencing materials and bulk of it will go into savings.

I don't much automobile blogging because to me a vehicle is just a way to get somewhere, not something I've ever been emotionally attached to.

Last week the idiot light came on in my 2003 Ford Ranger and it started idling very rough.  One time it died while I was sitting at a stop light, so I've been circumventing that by shutting off the a/c unless I'm moving.

Today I took a day off work to accompany my son's kindergarten class on their field trip to the zoo, so we dropped the truck off at our local shop.  They hooked it up to the computer and eventually found a small hose with a tiny crack in it.

But apparently this small hose is some kind of sooper-seekrit dealer part.  Can't get it at NAPA or anywhere else.

So he calls up a dealer.  Calls another.  Both tell him that part doesn't go in a 2003 Ford Ranger.  Yet he is holding the very part in his hand, which he took out of a 2003 Ford Ranger only minutes before.  Maybe I should have just wrapped it in duct tape and kept going.

So they're sending him some hoses that are supposed to go in a Taurus because they think one of them will fit.  He should have been able to take of this in a couple of hours this morning, but now my truck is in the shop for an overnight stay while he waits for these top-secret parts to arrive.

In a related story, two weeks ago the idiot light came on in my wife's Dodge Durango.  Another hose problem.  Why was the hose torn apart with ragged edges on the ends?  Squirrels.  Squirrels chewed the hose apart.

I was shopping in a Walmart or some place like that when the zombie holocaust hit.  For some reason, I wasn't carrying my own gun.  Why not?  I guess it was just one of those dream things.

So I'm running around trying to find something to defend myself with.  Most of the guns are gone from this Walmart (the bastidges), but finally I come across a pistol that looks like an olive drab Kel-Tec except I discover that it's only a prop gun that shoots 7mm blanks (thanks, James).  Then I discover a coach gun, it's only a 20-gauge but I figure if I can come up with some slugs or buckshot that I should be okay.  The problem is, the only 20-gauge ammo they have in the whole place is #9 birdshot, which only makes them mad(der).  So I run around trying to find some more effective ammo and vainly peppering them with birdshot until finally I guess the stress became too much and I woke up.

The "original" zombie who started the whole thing was a horrifyingly Shirley Temple-like little girl who would trick people by skipping up them to licking on a lollipop.  Then when the victim's guard was down, she would scream "BRAAAIIIINNNNSSSSS!!!" and jump them.

What, you don't have zombie holocaust nightmares?