Made It

Here is the odd thing about this whole NaBloPoMo stuff. I made it, barely...but I don't feel like I have really posted anything of substance. Part of this is because I think there may be strangers reading this, part of it is because I suck at writing regularly. I suspect with time I could force that to change...and I could become a little less abashed about my personal life.
However, I gave you folks something everyday, for a month and now I am not going to touch this keyboard for a whole weekend, unless I actually think of something to say to you.
There is a small part of me thinking "I conquered NaBloPoMo, yay me!" Because I always win.

Confession

I am a dog person. I tell people that I am a fuzzy companion person, but that is a lie. Cats are okay, but I am not terribly torn up about my boyfriend's declaration that I will never be allowed to have one. Dogs are sweet and cuddly and you can boss them around. Try that with a cat.
"Kitty, sit!" It is possible, but extraordinarily difficult to train an animal that has the ability to go feral and only sticks around for the kibble and back scratches. I trained a couple of cats once-upon-a-time and they would only do one of their tricks if there was something tangible in it for them.
I guess it comes down to the same thing everyone tells you; cats are cool and independent while dogs are sociable and dependant. I prefer the dogs.
That all being said, one day I will own a cat. Because I am stubborn. Here's my argument: children who are raised around cats are far less likely to develop severe environmental allergies as adults. However, we all know the reason is that I kind of like cats and I want one, and I tend to get what I want.

Signing off,
Spoiled Dog Lover

Bang, Bang

I learned to handle myself around guns when I was very young. I had to learn how to shoot rifles around the time I was ten or so. When you grow up in Alaska and you have a cabin in the middle of nowhere, and there are bears and wolves and mean moose to contend with you need to be able to try to save yourself. Consequently, I can shoot a rifle well enough to bruise my shoulder and save my ass.
In the last 10 years however, I haven't touched any type of gun other than to place it back in a drawer, closet, or safe. I have recently been thinking that shooting would be an interesting hobby to pick up and the self-defense factor wouldn't be too shabby, either. I don't want to shoot rifles though, they are big, and heavy, and as I said, they bruise my shoulder. I might want to shoot handguns, and especially to really figure out target shooting--and to become good at it. I would need a gun, lessons, and free time. If I rode my bike out to the shooting range, I could call myself a biathlete, which would be spiffy (if a bit of a fib).
Bang, bang--right on target!

Thank You

Special thanks to friend of friends, DGM Saw Owner. I am without internet at my house and posting slipped my mind at work and at the boyfriend's house...Saw Owner saved me! Or saved my NaBloPoMo. I have guilt though, oh the guilt, I may have to post again today-you know, if I remember.
The boar we had Sunday night was really good. Apparently, soaking your game in milk for 3-4 hours actually does draw out the gaminess. I was skeptical about that one, but now we know! The traveling we did Sunday sucked, but could have been worse. Left around 8:30 which put us back in town a little before midnight, traffic was pretty clear and smooth the whole way. However, arriving at midnight when you need to unpack and settle back in means no sleeping until 1:30 at the earliest. Hence my fatigue and crankiness. However, with boyfriend's finals coming up, I get to pretend to be single, which means that I go home after work and sleep.

Guest Blog!

Guess who forgot to blog today? Ellen! Because she's blogging daily and won't be able to, I will do it for her. I am DGM Saw Owner. Hear me blog!