True talent...

When you set you sight on a goal, does accuracy matter? I believe effort accounts for something, right?

I guess you could say, we needed something more challenging when Russell decided he would double fist it - shootin' style. I was intrigued, yet nervous. I'm not confident enough to pull the hammer back on the .357 while holding the gun with one hand and it not slipping in the process. I was certain Russell had not only the confidence, but the talent to pull it off.

Pull it off, he did. But, 3 out of 13 shots on the target?

Come on honey, can't you do better than that?

Don't get me wrong, I was impressed. We attempted to capture his second attempt to time his speed - it was much more impressive, but silly me forgot to hit the "rec" button - opps!

While my confidence with the .357 has increased significantly, I still have to overcome the fear of the hammer slipping. In the mean time, I was inspired to try shootin' my Bersa one handed. If your interested in seeing how it's really done, take a peak.

.45 ACP. . .

A few weeks back, Russell and I went to check out a shooting range here in the Houston area. I brought my Bersa, but we decided that we would rent a 9mm. Long story short, Russell asked for the .45 ACP. We purchased a 100 rounds and we set off to do some shootin'.

After firing a few rounds with the .380, Russell loaded the .45 magazine and left me on my own. Here's my first shot...

Whew! I was shaking in my tennis shoes. Adrenaline rush doesn't do justice to describe how I felt. Russell enjoyed firing a few rounds too, but allowed (or pressured) me to enjoy firing the majority of the ammo. I must say, I loved every minute of it. It was a challenge to fire a weapon of that magnitude, remain steady and not be completely stiff in my stance.

Russell was a proud man (or so he said) and I think I might have impressed a few others at the range that day.

I'm ready to go back and rent her again!!

Mission Caw Caw Rescue - Success!

Thanks to all those who aided with the successful return of Caw Caw. Much to Nauti Girl's relief, they were reunited last week. We are pleased to report that Caw Caw was unharmed by the demented Yarn Donkey.

To commemorate his homecoming, Nauti Girl and Caw Caw had a night out on the town. They met up with a few friends for a drink.

In honor of Caw Caw, the local game warden even stopped in to have a drink with his pal.

It's time for shots!

Oh no, wait... Coondog did you hit your head again? Nauti Girl needs a light, not Caw Caw's tail.

Poor Caw Caw!

The night was a hit, but had to end before Nauti Girl and Caw Caw could sing their duet (whew!).

We're glad your home Caw Caw. Take care and stay away from Yarn Donkey and Coondog.

BTW, I hear the girl scout cookies were yummy.

Fly Birdie, Fly

Have you ever made a spontaneous decision that left you wondering if you may have made a fatal choice? I've made several decisions that left me questioning my sanity. Russell and I were having a weak moment last Thursday and he decided to purchase an airline ticket for me to visit Mississippi for the weekend using his frequent flyer miles. We were excited that we weren't going to sulk for another long week before seeing one another.

As the sun was rising Friday morning I headed off to the airport with anticipation of seeing Russell, shooting my Bersa and... whatever our hearts desired. All seemed well. The airport was fairly empty, declaring my firearm was a breeze, security was uneventful and I was on my way. We boarded the plane, which was relatively empty - however, three loud sisters decided to sit behind me! They were chatting it up as we head down the run way talking about others salvation and neediness.

I wasn't quiet sure what to do with my time as napping was no longer an option and starting a book would be impossible. I opted to peruse my magazines to occupy my time. We began our climb in the air and as we were about to reach our cruising altitude, we immediately began to descend and the pilot took a hard left back towards Houston. We had been in the air for maybe ten minutes. Soon thereafter, the stewardess came on the intercom announcing that we were in fact turning around and heading back towards the airport as the pilot wanted to have ground maintenance "check something out" but assured us we were safe. And indicated the pilot would soon come be on to explain, but we had nothing to worry about.

Our descent and return to the airport took twice as long. And, the pilot never made any announcements. Most of the travelers seemed unconcerned, with the exception of the sisters behind me. I was calm until I remember the 7:00 a.m. phone call from my brother who eventually said he was just calling because he'd had a bad dream and was just checking on me!

Okay, so should I be concerned? I don't think so. Am I ready to die? Ready? That's a hard question to answer. Of course I don't want to leave my children, family nor Russell. But I was at peace. Should I make a call on my cell phone just in case? Well, that haven't told us to assume crash position, the oxygen mask have been ejected and it sounds like we have both engines running.

Obviously, we made it. The landing was smooth. But it was apparent that there was something was awry as the airport emergency crews were nearby upon our arrival. They immediately boarded the plane and asked us to obtain our belongings and de-board the plane. Grateful we returned safely. Needless to say, we boarded another plane and arrived two hours late. I MADE IT! Safe and sound.

But somehow, I found myself flapping my wings trying to fly like a birdie! Leave it to Russell to catch me at my very best. This was captured during our hour long walk around Camp Burning Toast with Wildcat. As I stood across from Russell with my Bersa in tow, I was certain that my 5'2 frame would not reach across the bank and I would find myself planted face down in the muddy water.

Luckily, I landed it... barely. So this was as embarrassing as it gets despite the neck brace I'm wearing today.

On another note, we attended the Great Southern Gun and Knife Show - I'm not sure, but I think Russell is trying to hint at certain sumtin sumtin. What do you think? If I counted correctly, I believe we passed by a booth with a similar gun three times and then googoo'd over it at Bass Pro Shop when we purchased ammo.

Where in the world...

is Caw Caw? He was last seen jamming at the Cross Canadian Ragweed festivities in Spring, Texas this past weekend.

If you have any information on the whereabouts of Caw Caw, you are asked to leave details in the comments. An award* is being offered to the individual that provides information that results in the safe return of Caw Caw safely to the arms of his beloved owner, Nauti Girl.



Nauti Girl is fearful that he may have left the country. Our prayers and wishes for his safe return.

* Information on the award is being gathered and will be shared upon release.

Another year older...

Thought I would pass along my wishes for Mama to have a year full of joy and happiness. Happy Birthday Mama!!




The adult celebratory plans have yet to be firmed. Whether it be fine dining, dancing like we're twenty, hitting the casinos hoping to cash in a big win or competing against the men at the bowling alley, I'm sure there will be a story or two to follow. After all, I'm not graceful, Mama has a low tolerance level (and, I believe her words were "I just wanna get drunk"), my Redneck brother - well, he's just entertaining irregardless of where we are or what we're doing and Russell, he could careless what others think... so fun is sure to come.

So Mama, put your red dancing shoes on and bowling shoes in your purse. I'll need to purchase elbow and knee pads either way. Redneck, grab the Budlight and Russell, pack the camera and few hangover remedies.

Meanwhile, we'll celebrate this evening playing some Rockband with the kidos to appease Mama's addiction to play her guitar.

What a girl wants...

What a girl needs. But the reality is we don't always get what we want. Besides, do we really know what we want or need for that matter? And what fun would it be to have it all. What would we strive for?

This past weekend, all I wanted was to spend time with Russell and his Pop. And, there were a few other things on my lists of wants...

1) nice weather
2) good food
3) shooting my Bersa
4) a little gardening
5) catching a fish or two
6) reclaiming my Scrabble Champion title

I don't ask for much.

As it turns out, the weather was spectacular. Pleasantly warm days followed by cool evenings. The food was quiet tasty... veggie frittata, a juicy sirloin, roasted potatoes, grilled zucchini, vegetable lasagna, grilled chicken and pork ribs. Huh, I'm stuffed.

In between the cooking preparations, we attacked the garden. I was fortunate enough to have the privilege of driving the riding lawn mower. Whoa! Then came the real work of weeding the beds and turning the dirt.

Luckily I was rewarded! We moved on to our firing range. This week we used the Russell's new fire barrel as our target. While it's only my third time to shoot my Bersa, my comfort level with operating and firing her is more apparent. My body doesn't tense up, my hands aren't shaking, I don't shut my eyes when firing the first round and when the magazine is empty and I've lost count of the rounds I've unloaded, I don't jump when she doesn't fire as I pull the trigger.

For kicks, we decided to make our target a little more difficult, so Russell opted for an empty can of Fix-a-Flat. Guess what? He missed and I sent it off in to the woods about 20 feet on my second shot. Awww... life is good! Oh, but fair warning... when setting off three bottle rockets from an empty can, you may want to wear ear protection.

However, my fishing expenditure and the Scrabble stand off wasn't much of a success. It's like this, I bought a rod and reel to have on stand by as I sit on the porch and watch the "big one" flop around several times a day. I just want to know... why is it that I can't hook'em?

Russell on the other hand takes the rod, casts 'er out and within about two or three casts, BAM! Another nice bass. On my rod, but not by my hand. Nauti Girl? What's up with that? See, I told you what I girl wants, she doesn't always get. If I caught one each time I casted, would I have the desire to fish again? Duh, of course I would. And Scrabble, well, there's not much to say other than I didn't reclaim my title.

Despite my failed effort to catch the fish that continues to haunt me in my dreams and my ability to reclaim my Scrabble Champion title, I wouldn't trade it for anything. The only regret I have is not being able to watch Russell purchase my feminine hygiene (yes, there really are men who don't panic at such requests and suddenly remember that he needs to repair the ceiling fan that's been broken for ten months) and ammunition in Wal-mart. All the while, cracking a joke at the female cashier who asked if he was certain that he wanted to make the transaction because it was non-refundable, to which he exclaims "You mean I can't return the tampons?".

Good times!

Dear Toast...

Sincerely,
Bea

Redneck New Year...

Ya might be a redneck when your baby pool is hanging out of the garage attic.

And ur' reindeer is hanging in the tree!

From one redneck to another....

Here's to 2009...

Here's to us Russell!

The diet starts...

tomorrow! The girls and I decided that we'd ring in the New Year by indulging on sweets this evening. This morning began by heading off to the kitchen to begin our baking. Our creations included Chewy Amaretti Sandwich Cookies, the good ole trustworthy Nestle Toll House Chocolate Chip cookies - minus the macadamia nuts at the request of my picky girls and Chocolate Mascarpone Petits Fours.

Tonight’s festivities include eating, drinking and playin' a little bit of rock-n-roll. Yep! Our music entertainment will be provided courtesy of our very own family Rock Band performance. If for no other reason than to annoy my brother at his inability to master the guitar. Hey bro? Maybe Russell can give you a private lesson or two during his next trip to Texas.

No matter how you decide to bring in the New Year, be safe. Happy New Year to all...

All I want for Christmas...

As a result of Burnt Toast’s (who I will refer to as Russell) persuasion I, or should I say we, have created The Bulletin. Over the past few days I’ve been questioning what I could write about. And in all honesty, I’m still not certain what is to come. None the less, I’ll start with this…

About four years ago, my home was burglarized while I was away for a holiday weekend. When I returned I was stunned to find that the backdoor had been kicked in, glass was everywhere and all of my belongings had been searched through with the invaders choice to take as they pleased.

Put the material loss aside, there was a fear embedded within me that is hard to shake after an unwelcomed intrusion. There is rarely a time that I pull around the corner without to studying the entrances of my home as I pull up. Nor am I able to disregard strange noises that may have once gone unnoticed.

Ever since, I have given consideration to purchasing a handgun to protect myself and my children. The idea was there but I lacked the encouragement to give it any real consideration. During one of my trips to Mississippi, I asked Russell to look at handguns with me. And we did. Pondering over which gun would be best for me.

The next few weeks we researched and corresponded, but nothing came of it. Until… Santa decided that the Bersa Thunder .380 was the best choice. She’s pretty, feels good and is exciting to fire. Perhaps the thrill was Russell’s paparazzo stance while I unloaded on the target.

Last night I was quickly reminded of my need to obtain by permit to carry a concealed weapon. My son was in the store and as I sat in the car waiting for him, an unsightly man on foot approached the back of my car wanting me to roll down my window or step out – of which I did neither. My initial thought, after locking the doors and rolling up the window, was of my Bersa.

On my list of “to do’s” this week – enroll in the CCW course.

Thanks Santa!!

And a special thanks to Breda for sealing the deal!