10:32 And Nothing Up?

I'm off my game!  --I have an excuse, yesterday was a busy day: I stomped all over my fear of going to new places and meeting new people and made it to a Writer's Center of Indiana  class on writing Speculative Fiction; the prospectus spoke of "world-building" and markets for fiction, and I need more rigor in the first and more of a clue in the second, so...  Off I went to class.

     Marian University is barely a long like ride down the Central Canal* Towpath trail from Roseholme Cottage.  Parking at MU made me wish I had.  But a long walk is good for both spirit and heart and barely 20-odd minutes after entering campus, I was in class.

     Very small class. Very good class and an especially gifted instructor, the engaging Maurice Broaddus; any man who manages to move Arthurian legend to the mean streets of Indy's rougher neighborhoods, Merlin, magic and all is a guy worth listening to -- and how often do you get to shake the hand of a preacher/horror writer? I learned a lot and was glad I'd attended.


     ...And from there to a quick snack and on to Eagle Creek Pistol Range.  The ever-patient gunsmiths at Coal Creek Armory had fixed my Ruger Mk. II (a loose ejector I really should have noticed) and it needed to be checked out.
     1. Oh, wow: shooting .22 revolvers the past few months has helped out my semi-auto shooting a lot.
     2. Rear sight had crept to the right, which I noticed 'cos I was making a half-moon right of center in the target.  I centered it up on the receiver/barrel. I'm not so all-fired good that I will use my own shooting as the standard of accuracy; either Tactical Solutions got the barrel and housing concentric when they built the aftermarket upper or there's no point.
     3.  Still plenty fun to make small holes in a piece of paper thirty feet away.  Why people point these things at others and inquire as to their valuables is a mystery to me; it can't possibly be as enjoyable.

     Also seen at Eagle Creek: LEO Assumption of Specialness yet again: officer from one of the outlying counties, older but lean and fit, badge and sidearm on his belt, shows up with a student and proceeds to go right up to the line.
     Range Officer: "Sir, may I see your lane assignment card?  Have you shot here before?"
     LEO (hands over card): "No."
     RO: "Have you had the safety orientation?"
     LEO: "I don't need that."
     RO: "Um, it's required.  Insurance.  Is your friend shooting?  She needs it, too."
     LEO: departs for orientation, grumpily.

     Later on, he had to be reminded that there's no drawing-from-holster at ECPR; the gun on his hip had to stay there, or take a trip to the unloading barrel before it returned to the firing line in a proper case. To his credit, he took it well (perhaps he had noticed the varying levels of skill and training up and down the line?) and when he took a break from teaching to shoot a little, he was fast and accurate.  This city's public range: it's a learning experience for all involved.


     A busy day, a long night's sleep and then I awoke and made an omelet filled with a bit of left-over ground sausage, a little thin-sliced sandwich ham, the last of our "Mexican" shredded cheese, diced onion, carrot and red bell pepper; ate that while Tam proofread my latest fiction and finally got 'round to Posting Something On The Internet.  Ain't you glad you came back to check?
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* Fortuitous Typos: "Central Cabal Towpath."  What are they towing?  Their unfortunate victims?  ...Given Indiana's canal history, "the State's budget" is more a more likely answer.