The body of Christ.

  The final backstraps out of the last package of Boxelder deer.  It was a doe shot in October with my 1942 1903A3, new front sight blade a C stock and a 1969 FMJ from Lake City.  She was standing at the treeline, a little suspicious when I broke the second stage of the trigger out the front window of Alan's new blind.

  Turned out, she wasn't suspicious enough.  Viva el Lake City, verdad.

  Noonday onions and some garlic sauteed alongside.  I made the final martini from a remnant of a bottle from Mary Burton, who resides in redheaded heaven.

  We're drunk, of course.  One two-oz martini.  (never make it to the Emerald City now...)  What a couple of lightweights.  Trying to remember not to operate heavy equipment.

  Just went to the lab to pull some brass out of the shaker and load tomorrows equipment for the shoot at Panola.  MidwayU!S!A!, the gunnies Santa Claus equivalent had brought me a package today with many wonders: fresh media for the tumbler.  Oh, the shining!  Oh the polish!  Attracted to shiny objects.  Could be drinking Old Crow. 

  Watching Sopranos second season with a live redhead not in heaven, though we would settle for what we have, before the Obamatine darkness descends.