Interlude, with Fireflies

My schedule had me flying into Hotlanta to to perform Acts of Mass Deconstruction this week.
On a whim I reached out to the Famous Borepatch to see if he and the illustrious markswoman extraordinaire Mrs.Borepach would like to get together for a bite and to wax poetic about politics, glowball warmening, caliber requirements and Other Topics of Common Interest.

To my surprise a) Borepatch was in town b) not overly encumbered with domestic tasking and c) willing to entertain Yours Truly at Camp Fortress Borepatch.
(Item C is most important- I am seldom if ever a good house-guest; Only marginal housebroken, poor table manners, and often household pets go missing after my visits.)
Famous the Borepatch suggested some recoil therapy followed by a sumptuous repast provided by the Borepatch household.
I eagerly accepted, and shortly after noon on Sunday I braved the Atlanta traffic and arrived at Fortress Borepatch to begin festivities.

After a short "How the hell ya been?" sit down (it's been a year and a half since the last time we occupied the relatively same geographic coordinates) we loaded up and headed to the local range.
(Non-paid endorsement - SharpShooters in Roswell is a waaay cool range. Good, knowledgeable folks, indoor range with very nice target trolleys and an amazing air handling system.)

I got to shoot BP's Citadel .45... As nice a compact 1911 as you'll find.
Smooth action, accurate, fun to shoot.
My first shot was dead-bang on the center X. The rest of the first mag was all over the map, including a few shots that might have hit a target hanging in a range in Birmingham...I was anticipating way too much.
I never shoot .45s so it took me a bit to adjust to it.
The amazing Mrs Borepatch was punching tight groups in her Paris Hilton/Zombie target with her little Sig .380. After exhausting her supply of .380, she went out and rented a FN Five-seveN and proceeded to put the plastic needle-shooter through it's paces. It had (IMHO) an overly long take-up pull. I was curious about the trigger reset- BP & Mrs looked for it and found it crisp when they actually felt for it.
Crowd opinion: Not bad; Loud, but not unmanageable handling. Itty-bitty holes made by fairly expensive non-reloadable ammo.

We retired from the field of battle, returning to the Secure Perimeter and the safety thereof, and a veritable feast was arranged. Grilled pork chops a la BP's private label spice rub. The tomato patch was raided to provide a side dish of fried green tomatoes (omg, they were awesome - nothing like a fresh vegetable side made with ingredients that only minutes before had been out on the vine, cavorting in the Georgia sunshine) and a pan of scratch-made biscuits.
Through dinner and into the evening we told tales, discussed topics ranging from pets to politics to kids to travel to Torchwood to topics ad infinitum.
We also kicked around plans for arranging the Great Southern Blogmeet & Blogshoot sometime RSN (Real Soon Now)...Stay tuned for details, Southern Gunbloggers.

As we sat on the back veranda of Fortress Borepatch I was treated to a phenomenon I haven't seen in years- Fireflies floating like will-o-the-wisps in the neighboring yards...
(None inside the actual Secure Perimeter- I think the automated laser turrets zap them as they cross into the no-fly zone of Fortress Borepatch airspace.)

I haven't seen fireflies in I-don't-know-how-long... We never had 'em when I was a kid down in the Keys. We'd see them when we went on vacation up in Central Fl. But we don't have them at the Estrogen Palace either, so it was kinda cool to see them as we discussed the matters of state.

All in all, it was an excellent break in my hectic schedule-
A little relaxation, recharge the bullshit buffers, recoil therapy and home-cooked meal...
What more could an ogre desire?

I extend my thanks to BP & The Mrs for a marvelous day- y'all were awesome.

TBG- ΜΟΛΩΝ ΛΑΒE