I was asked to review a pair of sun glasses from Be The Ball(BTB). The man I was emailing back and forth with told me to go to the site and pick out a pair I would like to try. I have sunglasses, so I went for the unusual, at least for me. I chose something in white.

The company’s claim to excellence is the ability of their lens to withstand pretty much any kind impact to include a bullet. They have a neat video on their site proving that point.

The glasses arrived in a very nice package which probably shouldn’t matter to me, but it does. If the item I am order is of good quality than a crappy package isn’t going to keep me from making the purchase, but still, I like things that are presented well.

I was impressed with the web site. Very easy to navigate, nice pictures of their products, and a comprehensive description of each item they are selling. The price can’t be beat as most all of their products are under $40.

When I took the sunglasses out of the package, I was pleased. The glasses looked nice and were very light weight. I put them on and discovered quickly that white is not my color.

This is me going, “Oooo, not a good look.” No problem. I am not reviewing for my own vanity, moving on. I wore the glasses for a couple of weeks and overall I liked them. Not super flattering, but that is a personal style and shouldn’t reflect on the product itself. They have several styles to choose from and most people will probably be able find something to fit their taste.

I liked the fact that the frame was so lightweight. When I am on the range all day a heavy pair of shooting glasses is no fun. However that lightweight-ness might compromise the longevity of the glasses. My frames came bent. Not bent exactly, but the glasses do not sit squarely on my face. They tilt to the left ever so slightly. It’s not much and perhaps is a fluke, but glasses that doesn’t sit straight is pretty annoying.

I don’t have enough experience with these sunglasses to know if the pair I received were the result of a quality control issue or simply a quality issue.

I am impressed enough with all other aspects of the company and the product that I am going to purchase a pair of BTB glasses for my very active 14 year old daughter. I will let you know the condition her frames arrive in.

Over the weekend my friend Dann of God, Gals, Guns, Grub blog emailed me about a young girl his family knows. Unfortunately, this was not a happy email. The young lady was a victim of a violent crime. My heart broke as I read his words.

Dann has written about the incident on his blog. Please go check it out.

That was the theme for the birthday celebration we had for E yesterday. Birthdays are a ginormous deal in our house. I love celebrating the lives of the people I care about. We never do a big party. I find nothing wrong with big parties. I am going to one soon for a boy I adore and every year I have a grand time. We just do things differently in our family. For us we let the kids pick a friend and a place they want to go and then we spend the day making a big deal about their lives. We write on their bathroom mirrors, write on the chalk board in our front hallway, and write notes all over pretty much ever surface in our home. E woke up to a giant balloon and beautiful plant by her bedside. I like to prolong the ordeal, so instead of sitting down and unwrapping presents at one time, I hide them throughout the house and then as she goes about her day she will find a treat here and there..

This was her loot. This year she got her first air soft pistol and a pocket knife. She also got a small flashlight to carry with her, but it hasn’t arrived yet. My oldest son thinks this is total bologna as when he was 16 I would not allow him to carry a pocket knife. I told him, yeah, mommy has changed just a tiny bit. I want a knife, a flashlight, a gun, a solid mindset to be natural everyday things in my kids’ lives. Something they have always had or at least something that isn’t brand new to them when they are 40.

We sat down with E and told her the responsibilities of carrying a knife. About not letting it sit around because younger people might get a hold of it, that she can’t have it in school etc. She also got a safe. It’s a small gun safe with a code she got to pick. We talked about never sharing that code with anyone and that a knife was not something to show off to her friends to be cool. We told her that because she has younger siblings in the house it was her responsibility to either have the knife on her person or in the safe. At night when she is sleeping the knife should put in the safe. If at anytime she can’t handle the responsibility we will take the knife from her.

Guess who’s job it is to be sure she is doing the right things? Hers of course and mine and her daddy’s. We need to ask her occasionally, “Where is your knife?” We need to check to be sure it is in the safe, that the safe is locked, and that she is making good choices.The knife is not all that sharp especially compared to the butcher knife in my kitchen, but we are using this tiny little tool to teach her to be responsible.

She spent the day finding reasons to use her knife. When she opened her other presents she wanted to use the knife to cut open the package.When her dad was cutting some tape for her she was mortified that he used the cutter that came on the tape dispenser. She said, “Ugh, dad, use the scissors on my knife.” He just looked at me and smiled like, I know where she gets this from.

The night before when my husband gave me the Gerber tool he used in Iraq, I did the same thing. Except it was late and I couldn’t really find anything to cut, stab, or file, so I asked if I could remove one of his nipples using, either the pliers or the wire cutters, his choice. He figured since he hadn’t lost a nipple in Iraq, he certainly wasn’t going to sacrifice one to an overzealous wife. I suppose that seems reasonable. My point…the girl comes by it honestly.

E is probably the most responsible 9 year old I have ever met. Like her mama, she is a rule follower, Type A(not in everything just what matters to her), very serious, and wants to get things right, but also like her mama, she is not perfect.

As she went about her day finding surprises she eventually came to find her air soft gun. When she opened a cupboard and found the air soft gun, she grabbed it,(still in it’s packaging)ran upstairs and showed me.

Me- E whatcha got there?

E- I think it’s a gun.

Me- What is the rule in our house when we find a gun?

Her face immediately loses it’s smile and she stares at me blankly.

Me- What’s the rule babe?

E- Don’t touch it and find you or dad.

Me- Is there ever an exception to that rule?

E- Nope.

Me- Nope. I know it’s your birthday and I know you were expecting to find things and I know you assumed the gun was for you, but the rules are there to keep everyone safe. There is never a time when it is ok to break them. Ok?

E- Ok. Are you mad at me?

Me- Nope.

Her smile returns.

E- Can we shoot it?

Me- Let’s go.

I set her up. I put the gun in a place I knew was easy to access and I said to my husband, “I wonder if she will touch it or come get us?” She came to get us when she saw the Nerf guns laying on the center island a few months back, but because she was expecting to find things for her, I wasn’t sure if she would just grab the gun or not. She grabbed.

Not a big deal at all. It is why we set up layers upon layers of safety in our house and it is why I continually set up opportunities for my kids to succeed and to fail. Interesting enough our 6 year old son who we have yet to take shooting because the kid will not keep his finger off the Wii gun trigger, saw the air soft gun first, closed the cupboard, came and told me he found a gun and that he did not touch it. Progress.

Back to her day. I made her a special breakfast. We took her to a special lunch at a “cook- in-front-of-you” place also know as Japanese Teppanyaki. We were suppose to go to a local theme park, but the weather called for thunderstorms and her sister wasn’t feeling well, so she graciously agreed to plan B.

For dinner she requested homemade hamburgers and shrimp cocktail.

I think she had a good day and I am pretty sure she knows how much she is loved. Happy Day After Your Birthday, E.

 

 

People ask, do you carry because of fear?  No, I only fear the places I can’t carry.  It’s not fear, it’s awareness, of what stirs in the dark, what quietly walks our streets.  Most people, certainly too many young women, are oblivious to it.  I was too, until I saw violence up close.  It was like someone opened the window, suddenly letting in sound.  It doesn’t come in all at once, the dull whoosh of the wind, the cry of a hawk, the deep throated huff of an animal out in the dark.  Perhaps I’d been aware of the sound all along, but just never really listened to it, the sound being so far beyond my experience and naivety.

Go here for the entire post.

Blog Video

Well, actually that is a scene from Shake It Up on Disney Channel, but that is pretty much how things go at the park. The only real difference is that I almost never wear blue and Arete has a beard.

I sent my husband to the store to pick up a few things. We kind of like each other, so even though the store is only a few blocks away, when he got there he texted me.

Him- U miss my already?

Me- Indeed. Hurry

Him- R u hungry?

Me- I saw the “h” and assumed you were gonna say horny, but yes.

Him-There are no cheese brots.

Me- There are cheese brots.

Him- Never mind found them.

Him- Are your horny?

Me-I assumed you were gonna say hungry, but YES!

Him-Figured I would send you a nude picture of me!

Racy, I know. Clearly he hasn’t seen this post.

P.S. This is an old pic one of the kids took. He was not texting and driving.

 

 

Last week I read an article by Greg Ellifritz about Timing during an attack. It’s a very good article and you really should read it.

Greg talks about his experience training people. He has found that many of them do not see themselves as worthy of defending. I have heard that from several other instructors as well, so I am sure it is true, but for me, that was not my issue.

You know I have spent a great deal of time trying to figure out why I didn’t fight back when I was mugged. During the process I heard this theory before, “people don’t think their life is valuable” and because I was so passive, I thought that must be what my problem was. “I can’t hurt him, so I must being placing a higher value on him than me.” Seems logical, but in my case it was something completely different.

I do not now nor have I ever had low self esteem. I have always, for the most part, liked who I was and I believed my life had value. What I didn’t understand was that it was ok to hurt someone in defense of that value. For me I had two factors at work. A very violent childhood that left a very nasty taste in my mouth.  I did not want any part of that life inside my home as an adult. I practiced a life of passiveness. I practiced it so long that it became how I reacted “instinctively.” I put that in quotes because I think people believe that instinct means only what you are born with and it can’t be changed or influenced, when in fact it can. Mine has changed drastically over the last 15 months.

The other reason is that I was raised to believe that in order to be safe I should do what the bad guy wanted. It wasn’t that the bad guy had more value, but my parents believed that if a person complied with the bad guy and gave him the car, money, whatever, then in the end the person’s life would be spared. They truly believed that. No surprise that my parents were raised in violent households. These things tend to get passed on. In their houses as in mine, the best way to deal with a violent, drunk, abusive parent was to comply. I didn’t think my parents had more worth, but I learned quickly that the punching stopped quicker if I just said nothing or promised to stop doing whatever pissed them off in the first place.

Not fighting back for me was the result of learned behaviors on how to survive a lifetime of violence, not as the result of thinking my life had no value.

The second part of the article talks about the knee jerk reaction of some people to believe that the gun is the be all end all answer to ever situation. I hear this all the time. People ask me why I bother carrying a knife or learning combative because the reason they carry a gun is to avoid all that other messy self defense crap. “I will just whip my gun out and blow their brains out.” Or maybe not.  I think training to be effective with your gun is paramount which is why I do it, but knowing when it might not be the best solution is just as important.

I make this claim all the time. No matter what if I am ever attacked again, I will fight back and I mean that. But to me “fight back” means make a conscious choices about how best to survive. It may be to wait or feign compliance. It may be to run, avoid, lie, pretend, punch, kick, shank, shoot, or all of those things, but regardless of what I do or don’t do, it won’t be nothing.

What I did in the parking lot was nothing.  Not because I didn’t punch and kick, but because their was no conscious thought.  I did not make a choice that said not kicking, not screaming, not fighting back is what will be best for my and my daughter’s survival. The problem wasn’t my actions or inaction, but it was in my lack of  thinking. I allowed him to be in full control. I never even thought of an option. I freely and willing handed him over my money, my body, my will without so much as a one second thought.  That is my definition of not fighting back.

In general I think most cases will require some action on my part. Running, screaming get back, or something more aggressive, but I may “fight back”, by choosing not to fight. If I see that as my best option, so be it, but it will be a choice as a result of doing something…thinking. Either way, the outcome is not guaranteed. The bad guy may get my money, my body, my life, but he will never again get my will.

Go read the article if you haven’t already. It just may help you survive or at the very least get you to think.

This didn’t transfer over from Blogger so I’m putting it here:

I have had so many issues with Blogger and since I have zero computer skills, dealing with the issues has been a drain on my time and energy.  When Barron from The Minuteman generously offered to make me a new site at WordPress, I took him up on it.

It was actually a hard move to make. This morning when I got the email from Barron telling me the new blog was ready, I got a few little butterflies in my tummy. I grow emotionally attached to things and I am attached to this blog. I still miss the picture of my Glock, but the Blogger format isn’t really serving me well anymore, so it’s time to move on. The look, the blogroll, the creative use of the English language will pretty much be the same over there as it is here, but it might take some time to get everything ironed out. Barron is walking me through each step which has been easier than I thought it was going to be.

Ok, new blog is located at http://www.agirlandhergun.org  The new RSS feed is at http://www.agirlandhergun.org/feed

Hope to see you all over there.

Obviously since you’re reading this, you’re here. 😉

-The Admin

Ok, I don’t know what happened to the Blogger site. I did something Barron told me to do, but clearly I did it wrong.  That site will be back up as soon as he fixes what I messed up:)

Really sorry about that.

Last night the guys from my husband’s office were meeting for a little rendezvous at a local spot and they invited me along. My husband assured me there would be other people of the female persuasion in attendance, but as per the usual, that turned out not to be the case. In fact other than the waitress I was the only gal in the entire place most of the night.

I have met these men my husband works with, but other than a brief conversation at the gun show or the polite chit chat that is required at the company Christmas party, I haven’t socialized with them. I am the closest with Arete, of course, but even he and I have not really spent much time together outside of training, so it was fun to hang with them.

Here was the group make up…my hubby, me, Arete, and 2 other guys, let’s call them Esquire and Tiger.  There are an eclectic group. One is a very casual shorts, muscle shirt, covered in tats dude, one is a t-shirt, shorts, tennis shoe guy and one is a youngster, under 25 that looks like he is right off the cover of Esquire, thus the name. He wore a bright yellow shirt and tie. I think he came straight from the office, but the point is, he was pretty spiffy looking. Then there was me and the hubs. All very different from each other, but even so, every single one of them is a gun person. Some shoot more than others, but  all Second Amendment people. I even noticed Esquire had a knife and I think a flashlight in his right front pocket. I thought, “Nice guys.” “They like guns and knives, all have jobs, even though I am the only woman in attendance, how bad can this be?”

Hold that thought.

Everything was going along swimmingly until I inadvertently made a comment about Tiger and something like, Hey, roll tide boy. Tiger is from Alabama, so that seemed logical. Logical yes, smart, no. He is from Alabama, but and this a big but, he attended Auburn University. If you know anything at all about college football then you see my problem. That. Was. Not. A. Good. Thing. To. Say.

It was so bad that not a single person at the table had my back. Not Arete and not my husband. I had hung myself and I was going to have to untie the noose all by my lonesome. I apologized profusely, I begged, I cried, I pleaded, to no avail. I was desperate and in the fight of my life. I composed myself, did some tactical breathing. I remembered that I had trained for this very moment. The words of Sir Winston Churchill echoed in my mind…

Victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory however long and hard the road may be; for without victory, there is no survival.

Eventually I did prevail and victory was indeed mine. Drinks were spilled, chairs were knocked over. It was a long battle. So long that it’s little vague in my mind as to exactly how I accomplished victory, but I am pretty sure at some point I offered to purchase one of these.

Once back in the good graces of Tiger and the rest of the crew, things went fairly smooth the remainder of the evening. We talked about Tim Tebow, murder, politics, politicians, broke ribs, Belgium, guns, plumbers, gun laws, and I listened to the boys talk a lot of shop. All and all not a bad way to spend a Wednesday evening.