Care Packages!

Yesterday I had a phone call from Ian, who was coming up in the evening: “Hey, Joel! I’m standing here in Dillon Precision (because Ian does things like that) and they’ve got .44 bullets. Plus I’ve got your money from [a writing gig which shall for now remain unmentioned.] You want?”

Yes. Yes, I did. So this morning I got something you’ve probably never gotten, you underprivileged waifs, you. I got home bullet delivery.

Now I can shoot till I run out of primers, which is 300-400 rounds away. I’m gravitating to lighter loads with lighter bullets, which I think the Taurus will appreciate.

He also brought me a very welcome – and what would have been a very expensive – care package from a prosthetist I’ve never met, contacted on my behalf by generous reader AS…

A box of disembodied feet! Yes! Just what I always wanted. Three of them definitely won’t fit the prosthetic, but the other two have possibilities I can only explore by taking the one I have apart, a prospect I don’t relish since I’ve never done it before and something going wrong could leave me crippled*. But I’ll do it anyway. Later. The socks and sheaths, much more straightforward, are definitely welcome as water to a dehydrated man.

What I’m going to do now is go play with the kind gift of generous reader Nosmo King:
…while it’s still fairly early and I’ve got good sun for drying. I do expect 10-gallon containers to work much better for laundry purposes than mud buckets do. And I have other uses for the mud buckets I’d really enjoy diverting them to.

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*In ze old days, when prosthetics contained a great deal more wood which tended to dry and split over time, “something going wrong” was always a real possibility and I approached home repair with serious trepidation. Now it’s high-quality nonferrous metal parts bolted together, and disaster is a far more remote prospect. But I worry anyway.