Mid Leave Report

15 days. That sounds like a lot, like you could easily fit in an evening for everyone. You can't. And I'm not going to try. And you shouldn't try to make me because I'm immune to guilt trips.

Guns and meat day

I fired a few pistols and almost every rifle that was present, including several variants of the Russian Mosin-Nagant rifle, a Springfield 1903, and several others whose type escapes my memory. The carbine M-N in particular had a kick like a mule and belched a foot of flame. It's hard to shoot straight when you are afraid to pull the trigger.

Mom rules

Another card, letter, and package today--all from Mom. Mom rules.

A few more things

More pictures, cookies, and a memorial.

Cove and Mrs. Cove

Cove and Mrs. Cove

My little brother and his wife. They are expecting sometime later this year.

It took a lot more work than it should have, and a fair bit of yelling at the computer, but Sweetie's new Wordpress-based site is now up and running at

Still alive

In which Sig goes home, is busy and productive, comes back, and does nothing for a solid week.


I haven't mentioned it, partially because I'm still absorbing it myself, but in a surprise reversal, my little brother is now ETSing from the regular Army not into silly villain life, but into the Army Reserve, going from an arty puke to (this is cool) chaplain assistant.

He's hoping, so I am told, that he can use this as his internship for school, where he wants to study to eventually become an actual chaplain himself.

On the one hand, this is really obscenely cool. I'm glad for him, especially because he didn't take any crap from the recruiters and got what he wanted. I love recruiters dearly--they've got a really hard mission to do, but just the same, I'm happier when they're not doing it to me or my family.

On the other hand, my wife says that he will be getting E-5 right away, and probably E-6 before too long. It's bad enough that I will be calling AT EASE when he comes in the room, but the idea that he might then become a chaplain--and thus an officer--and I'd have to salute him? That's just too much to digest right now.

But in case it was not apparent, it is worth noting that I am insanely proud of my little brother and have been through all of his military endeavors.


Self-inflicted wounds

In which Sig may be spending a lot of money when he could have spent a good deal less.

Happy Father's Day

Some really unfortunate people don't have much in the way of father figures, and they often turn out all jacked up because of it. I am supremely blessed, since I have father figures all over the place. But in particular, I want to wish a happy Father's Day to Dad, Pop, and John, because you all rule, and I know I have to live my life right since I'm bound to run into at least one of you no matter where I go.

And a happy day also to my elder brother, who now has two little girls to cause him stress and joy, not necessarily in that order.

All I got is a psychotic cat, but we're making long-range plans...


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