Day 1

This is me in my best super hero pose.  Another absolutely gorgeous day.  85 degrees, sunny, slight breeze, with no chance of rain.  Carrying my Glock 27 in a Crossbreed Super Tuck Deluxe.

These shorts as with, all of my clothes right now, are a bit big, so the back-end sags more than is typical for me.  Even when my pants fit right, with my Glock it is imperative that I wear a good quality thick belt to keep my pants from sagging to much. Before I carried a gun, I never, ever wore a belt, now I do, almost daily.

Since it was such a beautiful day and I knew I was going to be inside a great deal, where I am always cold, I didn’t mind wearing a cover garment, so I chose the bigger gun.

I have 3 vest in 3 different colors that I wear a lot in the summer as cover garments. This is my first summer carrying, but we had a very hot spring, so I have actually worn these quite a lot. My daughter-in-law says I always look like I am heading out on Safari. Perhaps not the most attractive look ever, but it is the best solution I have come up with so far.


I think if you look extremely close to the pictures, you can see that there is something on my left side. When I first started carrying I was paranoid about not printing(showing the outline of the gun through clothes) at all. Now, as long as no one can easily tell that it is a gun, I don’t mind if people can see “something”. Again, I do not think anyone is looking at me and thinking gun.

My day was full.  I took the kids to swim team where the gun went into the car safe.  My kids are deaf which requires me to interpret for them and I have had to jump into the pool before, so I leave the gun in the car.

After swim team, I went to Tar*et, Wal-M*rt, Low*s, and the grocery store.  Then I came home to change my clothes and head to the gym.  My son needed my car, so he dropped me off at the gym. I can’t wear my gun while working out, of course, I am not leaving it in a gym locker and my car was not going to be in the parking lot, so I left my gun at home in the safe.  After the gym, we came home.  My husband was here and both he and my son had guns on, so I did not immediately retrieve mine.  I took a shower and got ready and then got my gun from the safe. I did not put it on, but did bring it downstairs to our handy dandy hiding spot, where it remained until bedtime.

About midnight my son called to tell me he and his wife were headed to the hospital and he would call me if she was in labor.  We had made this trip several times before, but the doctors always sent her home.  At 3am, he called to say this was indeed it and to get up there.  I changed my clothes, brushed my teeth, pulled my hair back and left.  I did not take my gun.

Leading up to this night, I wrestled a lot with the idea of taking my gun.  I knew it was a possibility that my daughter-in-law could go into labor in the middle of the night, so I thought about what I would do if she did.

Our hospital has signs everywhere that clearly state, NO Weapons of any kind with a picture of a gun and a big red slash through it, so I knew bringing it into the hospital was out, but I thought about leaving it in the car.

We have had some car jacking incidents here and recently several places have been held up at night.  I wasn’t planning on stopping anywhere, but at 3am, I just prefer to have my gun. I don’t mind leaving my gun in the car if I can see my car, but I am uncomfortable with leaving my gun for long periods of time unattended.  Even though it is in a safe wrapped around a steel pole with a heavy duty cord in a locked car, still, it doesn’t feel right for me, so I left my Glock at home.  My son met me at the car and walked me into the hospital. Not the ideal situation, but it worked out fine.

With few exceptions, for the next 2 days, I did not have my gun with me.

I did have the Ruger on here.

Not A Gun Post

When I was 20, I married the boy of my dreams. When I was 22 I had his baby.

We were young and idealistic and well, stupid.  We had all kinds of ideas of how life would be and who our child would become.

I dreamed he would be kind of nerdy like me.  He would love to read and he would hate violence and guns.  I prayed he would be kind and loving and relentlessly compassionate.

My son, was born sweet and absolutely loved.  He grew up not loving to read so much, but crazy about guns.  I have no idea how he ended up to be so different from me.

My husband says, it is my fault.  I consciously raised him to be his own person and I willfully, made the choice to stand back and let him discover his own passions and dreams, encouraged it even.

He and I are so vastly opposite in almost every way, except that he, like me, has a spirit that is unquenchable and a love for life and family that is never ending.  He is indeed kind and compassionate and he is fiercely protective and fiercely passionate about country, God, and those he loves.

On July 1st, my baby had his first baby, my granddaughter. 

In so many ways our son is exactly the child we hoped him to be and in so many ways, he is more than we ever dreamed.

I wonder what his daughter will be become.