I Have Haters or at least people who think I am dumb F&@k.
The
folks
over
at
can’t
stand
me
or
my
paragraph
breaks.
It’s been a good day!!!!!
Thanks for all the support and thanks for all the hate. No one has ever hated me before(that I know of)and while those folks lack the artful use of profanity that our good friend Grumpy Bastard displays, they still made me laugh.
In 2005, my husband and I started the process to adopt a little girl from China. It was a brand new scary process that we knew nothing about. All we knew was that we wanted a child.
When I am passionate about something, I want to know everything I can about it. So, I did a lot of reading about China and adoption.
One of the people I read about was a woman named Gladys Aylward. She was a poor woman from London who wanted to go to China in the 1930’s to be a missionary. but she had no skills, no education and she didn’t speak the language, so no formal organization would allow her to go.
She was angry and frustrated, but she didn’t give up. She spent a year working and saving, so she could make the trek on her own.
As she spent time in China, it become more and more her home. More and more a place she belonged and eventually, a place, she never wanted to leave.
Things got very ugly in China when the Japanese invaded and her family wanted her to leave, but she refused.
No matter how dangerous it got, she would not walk away from the people she had grown to love.
She said, “Greater Love Has No One Than This, That He Lay Down His Life For A Friend”- John15:13.
She said, “These are my people”.
Unlike Gladys, I didn’t want to be in this community.
I came here purely out of a desperate need.
A need to save my life.
What I found here is rare.
The gun community is a generous community. It is unlike any other I have been associated with.
I did, for a while, belong to the adoption community for a few years and though I am still crazy passionate about children and orphans.
Those are not my people.
I did, for a while, belong to the church going Christian community and though I am still crazy passionate about God.
Those are not my people.
Generally a group, any group, has an agenda. Stated or not. Conscious or not. No matter how well meaning, they almost always want something.
That something is usually steeped in power and control.
Politicians, religions, schools, the anti gun crowd, you name it. They want to bring you for what you can give them, which is often nothing more than a feeling of power and self worth for the leaders of the group.
They want to take something from you in order to gain something for themselves.
Not this group.
In the past 10 months, I have gained so much more than the ability to line Up my front site on the target.
This group has welcomed me when I had absolutely nothing to offer them.
I was empty.
I was broken.
I needed things I was too weak to even know I needed.
I came here desperate and searching.
Day by day this community, these gun people, built me up.
They never once pretend to be anything other than exactly who they are.
They didn’t try to wrap themselves up in a pretty little package to draw me in.
They didn’t use smoke and mirrors and they never, not once, lied to me.
They told me things I didn’t want to hear. They showed me things I didn’t want to see. They made me face thing I didn’t want to face.
All while holding my hand and guiding me and nurturing me and givng me a safe place to grow.
They wanted me to grow.
They wanted me to be stronger.
They wanted me to be able to depend on myself.
They gave me everything they had, so I wouldn’t need them any more.
They gave me tools and guidance, so that I could soar and each and every time I took a step forward, they have been there, to say, good for you. Job well done.
They did this, not because of me.
Not because I am something special.
They did it because they are special.
They are rare and they are so very, very special.
It is who they are.
Dig deep. Dig into the core of their being.
This is who they are.
You, you who hate guns, you gave me nothing.
No hope.
No tools.
All that was offered me was a life of fear, of resentment, of bitterness, of dependance…
The gun community has offered me hope and strength, and courage.
They have taught me to have belief in myself.
They have asked nothing of me in return and, yet, I would give them my life.
Funny thing is, they would never ask me to.
This is where I belong.
These are my people.
First, I want to say thank you again to everyone who has entered the Give-A-Way. I truly thought maybe 20 people would enter and after the 3rd day with only entry, I thought, well this is going to be easy, but on day 6, here I sit with hundreds of entries.
I think it is remarkable how many of you are taking a proactive steps in defense of your life and freedoms. You rock!!!
Second, I really want to apologize. This blog thing is kicking my butt. I had no idea how many emails I would get from so many of you.
I love it.
I love not getting an ounce of sleep because there is something about me, that has compelled you to want to share part of your life’s story with me. I promise you I am reading them all and I care very much. I am humbled and blessed by each of you. I am trying to respond and to visit everyone’s blogs, but sometime I read one and think I will get to it, but then more pour in and I don’t back to it. I need a better system.
Let me tell you that it never, ever, not once occurred to me that anyone would read this blog. I was woefully unprepared for the way it has exploded over the past few months. I am trying to balance my real life with my virtual life. I have made real friends through this blog. People I have connected with and who have impacted my life on a deeper more personal level and it is important to me that I nurture those relationships. I want to give back by commenting on their blogs, sending emails, and just being there for them. I also have a ton of kids and a hubby who need me plus I am still trying to learn all things guns. So, if I have not gotten back to you please know that it is an oversight. I can not guarantee I will get back to you, but I am trying. I appreciate your comments on this blog and through email. Really, I do.
Thirdly, to all you bloggers out there…sorry again. I am realizing(I kind of suspected) I don’t know what the heck I am doing. If I have forgot to credit you or ask your permission or broke a rule, I really didn’t mean to. Thank God for North sending me emails from time to time to tell me how jacked up I am and telling me how to fix it, or this could have been even uglier.
Basically, what I am trying to say is that I am all kinds of whacked, but I am having a blast and trying extremely hard.
That is all. Carry on.
As I have mentioned before, I don’t cuss, but if I were going to, this is how I would do it.
I have never read this blog before and I know he is seriously frustrated and he should be. Very good points, but I nearly peed my pants from laughing.
Excellent use of profanity.
*He is probably a huge blogger, but I am new and just now making my way around the blog-o-sphere, so I am late coming to all the jewels that are out there. I am finding that I have been very, very sheltered.
An excellent post over at Home On The Range.
I am spending so much time on this dang computer reading gun blog after gun blog that I need to hire some folks to clean my house, take care of my kids and service my husband.
And by service my husband I mean cook him meals and care for his children.
The prostitute is for me.
I am hoping she can give me a few pointers on how to move things a long a little quicker and still knock his socks off.
I wonder if anyone has ever incorporated blogging into foreplay.
Dang, now I am getting excited. Where’s my husband?
Collin Goddard and The Brady Campaign have a very interesting approach to violence.
The basic principal is for people to walk around blindly hoping nothing bad happens to them and if something bad does happen, you are to give the bad guy everything he wants.
In the event that things starts to get ugly, just play dead and again hope you make it out alive, but whatever you do, do not fight back.
The bad guy might get mad.
If by some miracle you do make it out of there, then you have a new mission.
Spend the rest of your life trying to convenience the rest of the world what a great plan being a victim is.
The only thing stupider then their plan, would be me. I actually followed it to a “T”.
I walked around blindly giving no thought to my safety, until the bad guy wouldn’t let me any longer.
Their plan didn’t serve me to well and it sucked the day my eyes were slammed wide open.
Let me just say…
IT ISN’T A GOOD PLAN!
Here’s a better one…
STOP walking around blindly.
STOP with the victim mindset.
It is isn’t serving you or me or anyone well.
Make a plan.
One that includes being responsible for your own life.
Carry a gun, don’t carry a gun, I don’t care(except you really should carry a gun and actually, I care deeply), but have a plan to be proactive in defense of YOUR life.
I can promise you, the bad guy has a plan for you and it ain’t pretty.
Here is one of the many things I do as part of my plan…
This is my holster. This is my gun. It is loaded. It is chambered. And except for the very rare occasion when the law prevents me, it resides on my left hip.
For more on this go to Weer’d World
A woman sent me a very lovely email telling me about her story and asking to be entered in the Give-A-Way and at the end of her email she said…
No offense, but you don’t seem like a person who would have a tattoo, so what’s up with the tats?
She was not being rude and I was not offended or bothered in the least. We have shared a couple emails since and all is good.
I was surprised a little by the question because it seems like now a days everyone has a tattoo or at least someone from every walk of life.
However, she is not the first person to ask me about them. I used to get that a lot.
A few years ago, I was a youth leader at a church and one day when I bent over to pick something up, my blouse revealed one of my tattoos. A parent was standing there and when she saw it she was shocked and not a happy camper. She was so upset by it that she went to the pastor to complain. She couldn’t believe a person like me had a tattoo and she wanted me to get up in front of the church to renounce all tattoos and admit my mistake.
I did not do that.
I like tattoos, especially mine.
I was a little late coming to the game though.
I was not a rebellious teenager, but a 26 year old college professor.
Getting a tat was not something I had ever thought to do. Not because I was against them, I just never thought about them one way or the other.
One day I was at a local brewery with some colleagues when one of the women suggested we get tattoos. I think it started out as a joke, but 3 days later we were at Beachin Tattoo in southern California getting all tatted up.
I am sure getting a tattoo is not considered wild anymore, but for me it was the closest thing to wild as I had ever gotten.
Plus I was nervous.
The thought of some person jamming a needle into my flesh didn’t sound all that appealing.
I was the not the cool cat that I am now.
Anyhoo, since I had never thought about a tattoo, I had no idea what I wanted to have permanently poked into me.
After looking at a ton of pictures, I finally just had a friend draw a design for me.
My first tattoo is of an AT-6 carrying a banner that reads Women Can. I like airplanes and I love the spirit of women, especially those that have overcome life’s obstacles.
Women flew the AT-6 in WWII and the banner is an homage to Rosie The Riveter.
My second tattoo came just a few months later. It’s an abstract symbol, again done by a friend, representing a quote. I forget who said it, but it comes from a book of women’s quotes, that I have misplaced.
The quote is “In My Friend, I Find A Second Self”
I have no idea what the woman meant when she said it, but to me it doesn’t mean someone exactly like me. It doesn’t mean when I look at them, I see myself. I like who I am, but I don’t want the whole world to be me.
To me, the quote means, someone who I am as comfortable being myself with, as I actually am being myself.
I always am who I am, but not everyone appreciates that. Those who do, they are my friends.
My 3rd tattoo didn’t come for many years later. I was probably 36. It was after our daughters came home from China.
I wanted to do more for the kids still waiting for homes, so my husband and I, along with our good friend and her husband, opened a non- profit organization. We placed grants on special needs children waiting in China.
The non-profit was named after our daughters and since I loved helping the children and I loved our daughters, I got a tattoo to represent both.
I almost got another tattoo a few months ago. I had a local tattoo artist draw up a design with my Glock and the American flag that was to be placed on my right thigh, but life got busy and I just haven’t got back there.
I am not sure that I will. It’s not cheap and I think I would rather spend the money on an actual gun or say a Give-A-Way.
So, that’s what’s up.
Please review the Give-A-Way post for updated requirements.
The age for this Give -A- Way is 21 or older.
I did consult with some people and 21 years of age or older is what was recommended to me.
Sorry for any confusion.
I am absolutely for training children, girls and boys, very early, but for the purpose of this Give-A-Way, the requirement is that the winner be at least 21 years old.
Thank you again to all who have spread the word, donated and especially to those who have entered.
You have kept me very, very busy, but I could not be more thrilled.
I am crazy in love with my handgun and I am beyond anxious to purchase my next one later this month, but, after my trip to the range a few weeks ago and getting to shoot some rifles, I now have a new love.
The thing about me, is that I don’t have to know you well or even understand you to be in love with you. I knew my husband for about a minute and married him, but eventually, I kind of like to move past the shiny fun parts and get to the heart of the matter.
I have been blog hopping and reading and trying to learn about all things long gun. So far it has been fun, but not much learning has taken place.
You people know to much. I mean that in the best possible, you knock my socks off, but I can’t keep up, kind of way.
It all starts to blend together after a while. I think it will get much better for me after my trip to North Carolina for the Appleseed event, where I get to shoot more rifles or shotguns, not sure, but until then I could use some clarification.
I need a basic explanation of the difference between a rifle and a shotgun and what the heck they are used for.
Here is what I know or what I think I know…
A riffle uses a regular bullet and can reach a target farther away than a hand gun??
A shotgun uses that casing thing with a lot of tiny “balls”?? Mostly used for hunting??
I know a lot of people talk about a shotgun for home defense, but others talk about an AR or AK which are riffles?? Which one has the pump action?? Shotgun??
A gentleman from my husband’s office sent him home with this pretty little number
Amber Dot Sight, what would it be called, an attachment?
My husband explained what it does and I spent time scooping out all the knick knacks in my house in case any of them ever revolt, but do I need that?
I realize this is probably a long and exhaustive discussion with many opinions, but I would be most grateful for the basic run down.
Any takers?