Insomno-maniacs!

It's been a while since I have had the energy to post.  It's been a while since I had the energy to do anything....OH WELL.  This sums up my life in general these days.  Funny how you find the energy when you need though, isn't it?

Times are hard, and getting harder.  We got a bonus at work.  I used it to stock up on meat and buy another gun.  Why would I buy a gun?  You might ask.  It is not just to protect the meat, if that's what you're thinking.

This summer our small little town has had a lot of theft.  Not your ordinary kind of theft that happens when no one is home.  Our thefts have happened right in our houses in the dead of night while we sleep.  Those of us who can sleep, that is.  Our thief likes to pop out screens and rummage through our bathroom cabinets and even our bedside tables.  It makes me shudder to even imagine it, but my neighborhood got hit at least 5 times.  

Have you ever seen the movie Stealing Home?  It starred Jodi Foster and Keven Cosner. In one of my favorite scenes, Kevin Cosner is an adult who has met up with his childhood friend in his hometown.  They go out and get drunk and then decide to go to his friend's childhood home and rummage around for their old baseball uniforms.  The friend's parents still live in the house he grew up in, but have for some crazy reason locked their doors.  This leads them to climb up and fall through a window that just happens to be between the beds of the friend's now-elderly parents.  The mother wakes up, sees Kevin Cosner, and instead of being alarmed that someone just broke into her house, let alone her bedroom, recognizes Kevin, pats him on the cheek and says "Oh, hello, dear.  How is your mother?"  He replies that his mother is fine and then she gives them a general direction to go find their old baseball uniforms and then goes back to sleep.

Until this year, this endearingly remarkable scene would have been pretty much exactly what you could expect to happen around here.  Until this year.

That was then.  This is now.

Without going into any more details I can say that the thief has been identified, caught twice, and let go.  You can probably imagine how happy and safe that makes us all feel.  Being from Missouri, and hence being armed, we don't let it get us down too much.  Instead we pay a lot more attention and sleep a lot less.

I might be able to tell myself that this is just a passing phase except for the fact that I have two sons still at home whom I consider "kids", but whom are as big as grown men.

Last weekend I had agreed to let one of their friends spend the night.  The boys had the not uncommon idea when walking home after dark to see is they could scare me.  I had the dogs in and all the windows open when I heard a strange knocking.  I was just looking to see what the dog's tails were knocking against when Jack growled.  Immediately after that, I heard my youngest baby say from right outside the window, "Jack!  You growled at me!!" and then realize that the knocking was not a dog's tail at all, but one of the boys walking on the porch up to the front door.  It was a good feeling to know that Jack would at least growl in a circumstance like this, as up until this point I was figuring that the only warning I would have would be the dog's tails knocking against the walls as they went to greet the thief.

We all laughed and I did not make a big deal out of it because I did not want to scare the boys.  Why put that worry into their sweet little heads if it wasn't, by whatever miracle, already there?

They spent the rest of the evening between our own house and that of a dear neighbor's, running back and forth and through a pond occasionally, playing hide and seek and running into electric fences and, most memorably, clothes-lining themselves.  They got to stay out till midnight.  It was a big night for 15 years olds, and a good one.  I just drank enough coffee to keep myself up until midnight, got the house locked up after they got home, and went to bed.

About 10 minutes later my oldest baby knocked on my bedroom door and said he had forgotten his phone charger at the other house, could he go get it?  Yes, he could, but come right home.  10 minutes after that he was home and I felt secure enough to go to sleep, for good this time.

About 1:45 am I was woken by the dogs barking.  Outside.  The dogs had been inside when I thought we had all gone to bed.  I immediately got up, opened the door to the basement, and called down to the boys.  My oldest baby gave a big sigh, as he always does when woken from a dead sleep, and blearily answered in the affirmative when I asked if everything was all right.  He replied, and I quote "we are sleeping".  I didn't investigate further because I didn't want to wake them all up.  That was my first mistake.

Have I ever told you what a good kid my oldest baby is?  I don't say it enough because it causes immense guilt about what light that puts my youngest baby in.  Something about twins makes you drive yourself insane trying to keep everything "equal".  You know it is insane but you still cannot stop.  I've learned to live with it but it is also the curse of my life.  And I do it to myself.  Anyway......

It was very suspicious that the dogs were out.  The one saving grace of my youngest baby is that he is stupid enough to always, always get caught.  I let the dogs in and went out to the front porch, where everything was quiet and peaceful.  I did not have long to wait until I saw two shadows walking down the street from the direction of the other house that the boys had spent the night playing at.  The two shadows are talking at normal volume, completely oblivious that there are most certainly several pairs of eyes and not a few gun barrels following their progress.  So oblivious are they that when they start to cut through to my own back yard my voice startles them.

My voice startled them because they had gotten caught sneaking back home, which was the biggest threat their little minds could imagine.

In their youth, and therefore incredible stupidity, they had taken the opportunity to go with my oldest baby to get the forgotten charger, and then stayed for awhile, getting my oldest baby to believe that they would not be long, and  thinking I was asleep and would never know the difference.  Last year I probably wouldn't have. 

But that was then. 

Then, they could have wandered the neighborhood they have grown up in at any hour of the night with the only consequence being that they would have "gotten caught" and been grounded.  That is exactly the kind of childhood I wanted for them, and a big reason why I live where I do.

But this is now.

We had a small confrontation on the front porch in the dead of night where their biggest concern was simply getting caught and being grounded.  That was the worst thing they could imagine.  That changed pretty quick once we got inside the house and I said "Do you have any idea how lucky you are that I didn't pull a gun on you?"

Dead silence, big eyes.  Blink, blink, blink.

"Do you have any idea how lucky you are that someone else didn't??"

Faces going dead white due to the blood draining away into the bottoms of their feet.  Know the feeling?  I daresay you do.  It was the feeling you got the first time you realized how much bigger the stakes were and how you had been sheltered from them because you were a child, and now you were not.

I have talked before about how the boys are old enough to start being grown up, but now it is vital that they get it through their heads and that it stays there.

So, between the hours of 2 and 3am last weekend, they received a long lecture from an exhausted, weeping, somewhat hysterical woman about how "we" (we being the adults in the neighborhood, the town, and America in general) were "hyper-alert" (scared, a little bit crazy, and with itchy trigger fingers, especially in the MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT) and how they needed to "think" (assume the worst and take the necessary precautions) before they acted on some hare-brained teenage scheme (which constitutes most of what passes for their lives at this point).  I am sorry that they don't get to act on their crazy, hare-brained schemes.  What is being a teenager without crazy, hare-brained schemes????  But it is just too dangerous, and could have consequences that are irreversible, not to mention deadly.  Let's face it:  the chances of them being shot dead are not great.  However, the chances of them being shot are very good.  Very good indeed.

I think I got through to them, but then I always think that.  It's a fine line, parenting teenagers, between trying to protect them and trying to scare the holy living sh*t out of them.  For their own good, of course, not to mention yours.  They professed how sorry they were, admitted how stupid it was, assured me that it would not happen again, and we all went to bed.  For real this time.

I grew up in a town small enough that we did not have police.  Nor did we need them.  We had parents.  There was nothing we did that they did not find out, and yes, everyone had a gun.  Perhaps because of this, few ever needed to be drawn.

Maybe you believe that the police can protect you.  If so, I can only say God bless your little heart.  I don't want to burst your bubble, but I also don't want to have to defend you, too, when your dreams don't work out the way you thought.  I have enough on my plate as it is and it's nothing I can't handle, usually.  But every once in a while.......well, there is just a peace that comes with knowing that you can defend yourself if you have to.

And if you happen to be in Brookfield Missouri and get a hare-brained idea?  You should think twice.  We have police, but we do not necessarily feel the need to call and bother them for every little thing.  When things go bad, they seem to go bad real fast.  Have you noticed?

I wish I could say this was a phase.  God willing it is.  Just remember: better safe than sorry and act accordingly.  I could have made this a funny post but the fact is that this isn't funny, and I don't see any end in sight.  I hope that we will laugh about it for years to come.  Good years, where people are not getting robbed or worse.  I guess all we can do is hope and be ready to defend ourselves if necessary.

Until then, do not be surprised in insomno-maniacs are seen in your own town.

Blowing stuff to Kingdom Come!

Last week I went to a women's self defense course held at the Middle of Nowhere Ranch near Harris MO.
To begin with, it is indeed in the middle of nowhere, among the rolling hills of northern MO and situated on a dead end road.  If you are from the country, you immediately get a comforting feeling.  I have known city people to get scared so far from what they see as "everything", poor souls.  Fortunately, we were all country girls.  In fact, I was a little late because there was a cow out on my way there and I stopped to tell a farmer, who knew exactly whose cow it was, and this is why you should want to live in the country, my friends.  You may not have a lot of privacy but that's only because everybody knows you and your habits, and that, more often than not, will help save your property and maybe your life.  Even if you are not a cow.
We spent the morning going over how to be aware of our surroundings, how to protect yourself and hearing stories from the instructors on actual situations they had been in, what they did and what they could have done differently.  In the afternoon, we got to shoot.
We shot all manner of guns, from hand guns to shotguns to a sniper rifle and an AK-47.  It was a very good course to get familiar with different kinds of guns and to see what it was like to actually shoot them.  Going in I was certain I would do better with the smaller handguns, but was surprised to see how well I did with a 44 caliber.  For those of you unfamiliar with what that is, it would be the gun that Clint Eastwood carried in his role as Dirty Harry.  They are long guns, and heavy.  I was afraid I would get knocked back from the kick, but I did not.  Well, I should probably mention that there was an instructor bracing my back with his hand between my shoulder blades so that I did NOT, in fact, get knocked down from the kick.  But it wasn't nearly as bad as I feared, and I was thrilled to death to see that I hit the target in the range that would kill a man every single time.  He still would have died. Eight times.  I didn't waste time feeling inadequate because I tended to hit a little to the right every single time.  I was thrilled to know that I could shoot a gun at a man coming at me and not have to worry about missing!  With the smaller guns, even the 357 caliber, my arm moved and I missed a lot more. 
I was very disappointed with this information for the simple fact that I want to get a conceal and carry permit and the 44's are simply too big to put in a purse, let alone to wear on your person.  The smaller guns would have fit perfectly.  Who knew ? This is precisely why you want to shoot different kinds of guns before you spend the money to buy one. 
I passed on the AK-47, believing that if things ever get THAT bad, I might as well just give up.  The shotgun was a little disappointing, only because I have shot a LOT of blue rock (clay pigeons), and this was very much a course for beginners.  It was perfect for beginners, though, because there was an instructor there who loaded the shell (and only one at a time), told you where to point the gun and then follow it and shoot.  For those of you unfamiliar with shotguns, instead of a bullet, they spray little lead balls all over the place in the general direction that you shoot.  Most children shoot a shotgun first, for the simple fact that if you get even the least bit close you will hit what you are aiming at.  It is pretty hard to miss with a shotgun, but it can be done, which is why, if you are not concerned with the "rules", you always load two shells so you can shoot again if you miss the first time.  The third time I told somebody to shoot again, somebody finally told me that they couldn't, because it was against the rules to load more than one shell.  Like I said, it was perfect for beginners.  And I must say I had really enjoyed seeing some of the younger girls shoot.  It was really fun for everybody.
The best thing for me was the sniper's rifle.  I forget what he even called it, but this baby was SSSCCHHWWEEEETTTT.  It barely moved when you shot it, and honey, I hit every single thing.  It had a beautiful scope, which always helps, and a little tripod thing on the front so you didn't have to actually steady it yourself.  Should the occasion ever arise, I could shoot one of those ALL DAY LONG.  Accurately.  God only knows what one of those would cost and they certainly are not easily to conceal, but I could make exceptions for one of those.  It wouldn't surprise me if the scope cost almost as much as the gun.  Totally worth it, too.
They happened to have some guns for sale at the Middle of Nowhere  Ranch, and I was just elated to find a little 22 pistol with pearl handles!!  This was exactly what I had wanted, due to how cute it was and how small it was.  It was also very reasonable priced.  But that was before I shot the other guns, and after that I realized that not only did that cutest of all little pistol only hold two shots, but it was way too small for my hand and I would probably not be very accurate.
Did you know that 85% of people shot with handguns survive?  Yeah.  I decided that this information would probably only add to my confidence if, God forbid, I should ever be in the position to have to actually shoot anyone.  It also would be quite a comfort if I was ever in the position of being shot back at, for that matter.  Who knows what could happen, but with those kind of odds, I say let the chips fall where they may. 
I highly recommend taking a course like this.  This one was called Refuse to Be a Victim, was only for women "because if we let you bring your men, they would tell you how to shoot and you might get mad, and this way you can learn a little on your own, and then when you get home you can do it however you want".  In other words, they thought of everything.  I found it very empowering.  Some of the women said their husbands told them that they could teach them to shoot, and were surprised that the Cyclist was so supportive.  I put this down to the fact that the Cyclist and I have never so much as asked each other anything about our respective bank accounts.  But it was very reasonably priced at $35 for the entire day, and that included lunch and all the ammo.  Very reasonable.  If only I could have gotten a conceal and carry permit for that same money it would have been perfect.  It was perfect for what it was.
The Cyclist was thrilled to death, if a little jealous of the sniper rifle action I saw.  He can't wait to go shoot guns and then once I know what I want for sure we are going to go shopping for it.  I plan to call her Lady Madonna, which fits in with the whole protection theme, and I am SO hoping that she will have pearl handles.  Wish me luck.

Guardian Angels

I am continually amazed at the "help" I get from what seems like the oddest places.  I think everyone gets help like this, the trick is just to notice sometimes.

Whether you actually believe in Guardian Angels or not, I believe angels are everywhere.  Not necessarily the kind with wings that shine with a light and speak for God, although that wouldn't really surprise me too much anymore.  In fact, I have to wonder if I would consider that more or less odd than those people I saw the other night on TV with split tongues and plastic ....additions?  things.....implanted under their skin to make them look like lizards and stuff.  If you did that to someone else, what do you suppose the charge would be?  I'm pretty sure it would land you in prison. But these people wanted to do that to themselves.  Which is their right in this country.  Ok, now I'm wandering again.  Back to Angels, who, if I know God, will put one of those lizard-people in place to help me with something next week.  He does that to me all the time. I'm pretty sure I'm currently supposed to be learning "humble".  Don't ask me if that was a joke.  It was and it wasn't.  Just stay tuned and mark my words.  It's happened to me MANY times. Now back to Angels.

It can be a random person holding a door for you when you are struggling to get into a store with a couple of infants.  In seats.  That weigh about 25 lbs. each.  Maybe more.  It always seems like more if it's raining.  Or dark.

It can be the supporting squeeze on the shoulder from the person behind you (whom you may or may not know)when you are in line at Wal Mart and you have two toddlers who decide to have simultaneous melt downs and you are 4th in line for the checkout. 

It can be someone who offers you a job, sets you up on a date that works out ( I freely admit this is more rare), or moves in next to you.

It can even be a sales clerk who intercedes between a mother and a teenage daughter and saves someones eyes from rolling right out of their joints.

You may not believe this, but it can even be someone who breaks your heart or betrays you in a way you think you will never get over.
Yes, it can!

Case in point:  I have a real life Guardian Angel right here on earth.  This person has been in my life for decades and has time and time again treated me like a child/sister/daughter in a way---and this is key for me with my pride and all----in which I have never been embarrassed or tried to resist.  And might I add, they have never steered me wrong.  Their concern has only ever been for my own best interests. 

My angel is.... how can I put this.... used to being obeyed/in charge and has a way of taking control of situations, so that it seems as if it's the most natural thing in the world to.........obey.   There are very few people in this world for whom I will fall into line.  But this Angel makes falling into line feel like the most natural thing in the world.  They have a gift.

So, today I mention to the Angel that I have signed up for a self defense course tomorrow and will happily spend the day blowing some stuff to Kingdom Come!  The Angel immediately draws a  pistol out of their pocket and asks if I want to take that.  Yeah, you read that right.  No self consciousness at all in just pulling out a gun at the drop of a hat.  I have gotten used to this over the years.  It used to make me want to shut doors and "hide the evidence", so to speak, and act in all manner of suspicious ways.  But not now.  I've come a long way, baby.

"No, it's too short, I need a longer stock so my wrists don't ache".

So the Angel says "Come by the house and I'll get you some more to pick from".  I go to said house and am treated to a small collection of lovely firearms, (all legally registered), and a little practice session with the one I pick.  9mm all the way,  Because I'm worth it.  (I hope you are getting a kick out of my using phrases taken from products usually marketed to women here, because I think it's hilariously ironic.  Cigarettes and hair color, respectively.  If women listened to advertising they would indeed be lost, no?  We lose a lot of the good ones that way.)

This gun is light, has smooth action, and doesn't make my wrists ache at all.  Believe it or not, when you get older your wrists are going to betray you, honey.  In all the worst ways.  Mine have lost their strength and ache all the time to boot.  WHICH is why it's important not to pick a gun too quickly.  And to take Aleve every day.

Listen to me.  You will need to know all this information sooner or later.  It will happen to you.  When it does, I expect you to be able to defend yourself and your children.  There will be none of this standing around crying waiting to be rescued for my readers, understand?  That scenario is not for us.  If that is your plan, you need to get with the program or find yourself some other blog to read.  Please.  I cannot abide whining.  There really is no reason for it and it is *very* unattractive.  Don't do it.  Just say no.  (Not a product marketed to women, but an equally useless and expensive program that they used a woman to promote.  Poor Nancy.  She should have pointed a gun at their head and just said "no".  Very politely, of course.  You would be surprised how much easier it is be to be very polite when you are holding a gun.)

Be ready with the knowledge that you are equal to the task.  Get a gun and get to know it.  Know it so well you get used to feeling secure when you are lost in bad neighborhoods late at night after you took a wrong turn.  Can you imagine this?  It can be you.  It will be me.  

Wish me luck!  Me and 99 other women are going to train to make the world a safer place today.  I cannot wait! 

This is just the latest way my Angel has guided me.

What about you?  Have you seen any Angels lately?