Reviewing the topic, we've weathered pretty much most of the storm.
Our Daughter Jen is well established in my home, along with her Son, Patrick. She's working 6 days a week as a chef/cook at the Crystal Palace Restaurant in Tombstone, AZ. Her work schedule is all over the place, but she's happy with the arrangement, they're happy, and I am too. Personally I want for very little, although the VA and Social Security dropped out Celia's income, and we're making do on about 40% less. We're making it, and this is not a plea for monetary assistance. Any recriminations I may have had about including Daughter Jen in my household have proven to be baseless; we are getting along quite wonderfully.
My lifestyle is much slower and quieter. Shooting is a very sometime thing for me these days. Between the weather and my health it's kind 'blink and you missed it' situation. Activity does and will continue, albeit at a more leisurely pace. The weather here, between the desert climate and the Altitude well above 4000ft make Spring and Autumn my preferred times for outings, and they go through like an express train. FWIW, my brain housing group still appears to remain in order.
There are now some days when I can get by with little or no O2. Others, not so much; and I still use the O2 when I'm sleeping (or driving...), religiously. I'm off it right now.
I've transferred most of my 'lesser' guns to my next generation, but retain the 'interesting' ones for active play and accuracy exploration. I've kept the .30-'06, .308/7.62x51, .260 Rem, .223/5.56, 20ga, and 9mm stuff. The only thing I'm shooting that isn't using my own handloads is the 9mm and the 20ga; and I'm in the process of bringing them online in the handloading shop. Shop is a misnomer, it's just the deep end of the garage with no environmental enhancement or significantly serious infrastructure. There's a solid bench that supports the RL550b like it's bolted into granite.
The main thrust of the reloading will be split between load development and ammo to replace the stuff I use in shooting outings; so this will be a minimalist operation.
Celia's ashes are in an exquisitely beautiful urn which resides on the beam which spans our living room. She is in plain sight right there among us. I tend to be up latest watching TV, and sometimes I'll have a little silent conversation directed her way. I realize I may be spinning my wheels and that there's no point in straining to hear a response. But it's calming and cheering, and does no harm either way. Sometimes I'll tell her about my life, the family, the friends, and the neighborhood. If I've got confusions, I'll request her assistance at getting these mental cats in a herd. It takes the edge off the sadness, and who knows, it could be helpful both ways. I do it, I feel good doing it, and somehow, it seems to help.
And maybe I'm a fruitcake; so be it.
La Migra activity is there, but it's well hidden. Most folks around here go around strapped. We see helicopters and caravans of Border Agents buzzing by, all busy as bees, but still maintaining an even strain. Some of the Agents are members of our local VFW Post. Any interactions between 'hikers' and our neighbors remains minimal. It's there, but it's not any kid of commotion. Nobody needs to be warned not to pick up hitchhikers. The general direction of the activity needle continues to trend upward; but folks are prepared for quite a lot, if needed.
Life goes on at El Rancho Langelius...
Greg
PS, FWIW, I can still get hold of any needed powder, primer, and projectiles, but it's a considerable search, and prices are not amenable to jumping and leapin about with joy. I Use RMR (Rocky Mountain Reloading) for bullets, Hodgdon (directly) for Powders, and just bagged a couple of bricks of new Win Primers on a one-time deal. Not the cheapest, but stuff cost what stuff costs. My purchases are minuscule in the long view.
Enjoy the cool weather while she lasts as our summer is coming shortly and we will long for winter once again. Keep on with those conversations with the misses as it may save you an ass chewing for ignoring her down the road when you see her again.
