There are advantages to building up on top of a ridge in the high desert. And there are disadvantages.
Second only to lightning strikes, the big disadvantage is that when the wind blows you can’t be sure anything will stay built. I knew the wind was blowing when I went out for morning shit-shoveling, but I didn’t know how much effort this skinny old guy would have to spend to keep from careening off into the nothin’ like an unusually ugly Dorothy.
But I got that done, and now the boys and I are cocooning in the Lair. Not even Ghost wants to go outside, and we’re down in a hollow where the wind just gusts to and fro. I do have to fix the powershed door, though, which I foolishly left chained open. It’s not any more, but at least it didn’t come off its hinges.
We’re getting a lot more sun than the weatherman promised, and the batteries are already up to float, but I’m not going to risk complacency on that score either. Supposedly the cold and snow are returning tonight and tomorrow. We’ll see, but I’m pretty sure it won’t be anything like the big northeast storm I heard about on the Jeep’s radio. You guys stay safe.
In the meantime, I’m spending the day re-reading the first of Larry Correia’s Grimnoir Chronicles. If you like alternate history pulp fiction, you’ll love these. Like his MHI books, the premise is old as the hills but he handles it marvelously. I truly enjoy Correia’s characters and plots.
Speaking of that, I did something evil and materialistic yesterday. I (finally) ordered myself a holster for this big clunky .44 right here, to celebrate the first time it got fired in anger and to correct the fact that with its current bag’o’nylon it’s hard to draw and damn near impossible to reholster without dropping my pants. The best deal I can find is a Fobus belt holster. I hate their paddle holsters but don’t mind the ones with belt loops. This one’s made for a four-inch barrel and I may get around to modifying the length at some point. But their retention is at the trigger guard so it really doesn’t matter much.
While I was at it, I splurged and ordered Monster Hunter Legion, the only MHI book I haven’t read yet. Normally I hate long, drawn-out series like this, but I’m still a long way from sick of MHI. Which is just about the highest praise I can offer.
When MHI gets made into a movie, I’ll play Skippy’s part for expenses.