For the first time in many, many months, Wednesday night I got eight hours’ sleep. I don’t know what I did to deserve that — the day’s work wasn’t especially taxing and didn’t leave me exhausted — but waking up restored was, in a word, exquisite.
If I could point to any one explanation, it’d be the overwhelming (and growing) sense of personal peace I feel in my waking hours. The joy and inescapable rightness of this place and the life I’ve built on The Mountain cut to the core of who I am.
It’s great to be here.
I was in the mood Thursday morning to pick up where I’d left off with the shooting lanes on the east slope. On my way there, I stopped at the wood yard and loaded the three remaining plywood disks salvaged from cable spools.
I kept those for a reason. I just didn’t know what the reason was ’til this week.
Arriving at Daybreak Point, I pulled two of the disks out of the bed and placed them on the handgun range — one at 21 feet, the other at 12 yards.
There they’ll serve as backer boards for targets. I’ll build a stand for the closer target, either from two-by-four scraps or pole wood.
Next, I laid out the firing position for the rifle range. Eventually, it’ll get a shooting bench — I haven’t yet decided if I’ll improvise or build a proper one from scrap.
Then, after felling three small hickories standing in the middle of the lane, I set up the third disk at 35 yards. (It’s a little hard to see in the photo below, but zoom in — it’s right in the center.)
I didn’t let those dropped hickories go to waste, of course. I bucked them before I left…
…and stacked the stove lengths at the wood yard to begin seasoning.
Even without the shooting bench and target stand, my new range is ready to use now. A little time and a little effort was all it took to create it. I’m satisfied.
When I cut back the tangle of dormant volunteer growth earlier this spring, I did so indiscriminately, or at least unsentimentally. Of all the plants I hoped would find a way to somehow re-establish and behave, purple passionflower (Passiflora incarnata, also known as “maypop”) topped the list.
Imagine my delight the other day, then, when I found three young maypop vines (pictured) thriving near the crest of the bank.
There’s a fourth, too, just out of the frame.
This makes me happy. Life is good.
Everything but the biscuits (Pillsbury) was store brand or the cheapest choice available. Not including the propane consumed by the oven and range, or ingredients like spices, oil and butter, the total cost of the food itself was less than three bucks.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable