Sportsman's Guide

Mrs. Yeoman Farmer and I have found a new supplier that we like a lot and have begun telling our friends about: Sportsman’s Guide. They are an online discount seller of outdoor goods, and their primary focus seems to be hunters and fishermen (note their name), but they carry an enormous variety of related products that just about anyone --- especially those of us who live in the country --- will find useful. And they have some of the best prices we’ve seen.

We’re big believers in buying things in bulk whenever possible. Not just to save money, but also to make sure we always have a supply on hand of things we need. There’s nothing worse than discovering you’re out of something, having to make a special trip to the store, and paying more than you need to.

In particular, I like to buy ammunition in bulk; prices for a 20 or 50 round box at Wal-Mart or the local gun shop can be pretty steep, especially compared to buying by the case. Ammo doesn’t go bad if it’s stored in a dry place, and I know I’ll eventually go through it. And given the unpredictability of supply in certain calibers, I like the peace of mind of knowing I’m immune to production disruptions. I’ve had good experiences buying bulk ammo from various online dealers, but in the last few months I’ve found Sportsman’s Guide tends to have the best prices, most consistent availability, and widest variety of calibers of pretty much anyone else out there. And their Ammo page on the website is easy to navigate.

Sportsman’s Guide has a “Buyers Club” that you’ll be asked to join when you place your first order. This is definitely worth the $30 cost. You not only get discounted prices on pretty much every product, but you’ll get extra savings and free shipping on your first order. Then, as a Club member, you’ll get frequent email offers for “$10 off your next order of $99 or more” or “free shipping on your next order of $99 or more.” Within two orders, my club membership had easily paid for itself. (The free shipping offers, in particular, were a nice opportunity to stock up on bulk ammo. That stuff can get HEAVY.)

The most interesting part of club membership has been the catalogs we get in the mail. We get at least one (and sometimes more) per week. I didn’t pay much attention to these, as I usually just go on their website and order when there’s something I need. I figured they send all these catalogs because so many of their customers are rural and therefore don’t have high speed internet.

But then Mrs. Yeoman Farmer noticed one of these catalogs laying on the dining room table, and began browsing it. She was soon perusing these things every time Yeoman Farm Baby had her pinned for a feeding. And she discovered something: Sportsman’s Guide carries all kinds of cool military and outdoor surplus stuff, that we’ve never seen elsewhere, at great prices. She ordered boots for her and the kids for something like $30 per pair. She got herself a heavy wool cape at a good price. Heavy wool military coats and hats and sweaters. They sometimes don’t have exactly the right size, but kids grow quickly and we just order an extra size up.

Our biggest frustration with boots in particular, from places like Wal-Mart, is how quickly the kids destroy them. And yet we’ve hesitated to buy the kids the really nice Muck Boots, like MYF and I wear around the farm, because they are so expensive. Military surplus boots are looking like they may be a good compromise: Just $30, and built to survive a march across Austria. As I hold these things in my hands and lace them up, I seriously doubt any kid could wear them out even if he wanted to. (I will post an update if Homeschooled Farm Boy or Big Little Brother manage to succeed, however.)

Anyway, this is not to discourage you from supporting local retailers or merchants. MYF and I are big believers in localism --- but sometimes local merchants don’t have what we need, or don’t have what we need at a reasonable price. We’ve been very happy with Sportsman’s Guide, and would encourage you to check them out.

The Stinker Slips Away

We've had our share of tangles with skunks over the years, and I must say something: I've never smelled anything worse than what they let loose. I'm sure there's something even more putrid out there, but I haven't yet encountered it. They are nasty little creatures, nothing at all like the cutsie children's book characters. Or Pepe Le Pew (who, for the record, is high on my list of most annoying cartoon characters. Right behind Tweetie Bird. But don't get me started.)

Our first skunk was in Illinois, just a few months after we'd moved to the country. I spotted it entering the chicken house, where I had our first batch of 25 pullet chicks in a very vulnerable area. The thing could've wiped out the whole brood, easy. I ran into the house for my shotgun, and kept hoping it'd come back out. Instead, it wandered into a corner where it was trapped. I shot it once, but not with a direct enough hit to kill. It filled the air with its stink bomb, which I had to approach so I could line up a second shot. I smelled so bad, Mrs Yeoman Famer made me sleep in a separate room. I think I ended up burning the clothes I'd been wearing. And the smell was in my hair for days.

Our next skunk came some time later, still in Illinois. I had a large batch of goslings I was brooding in an outbuilding. They were young and quite vulnerable. I was about to call it a night, and was taking one last look at them, when I noticed some kind of dark shape moving aggressively inside their pen. The goslings were in panic, running every which way. In the fading light, I managed to spot the white stripe down the animal's back and tail...and again sprinted for my shotgun. (I can't repeat often enough what an essential farm tool a good twelve gauge pump is.) This time, I took the thing out with a single shot. Unfortunately took a gosling or two out with it, and the skunk had already managed to kill a gosling or two, but the rest of the brood was safe. Covered with skunk stench, released as pieces of shot tore the animal open, but safe.

Here in Michigan, we've had a skunk visit our property occasionally. At 9pm or so, when coming in from my office, there have been several nights where the smell of skunk has hung heavy in the air. I imagine it released the scent when a dog or cat had startled it. Regardless, no matter how much I searched the yard and under the porch with a flashlight, I never managed to actually spot the skunk itself.

Until last night. I awakened at 2am, and couldn't get back to sleep. There was a certain project from work that I couldn't get off my mind, and couldn't shake a gnawing anxiety that I may have done a particular thing wrong and allowed a particular error to get into my data. At 3:30, unable to get back to sleep, I decided I might as well go out to my office and check the data.

I got dressed, went downstairs, got my spotlight, and switched on the back porch light. The instant I stepped onto the porch, I spotted the skunk. There was absolutely no missing the white stripe and angular body. He was running up the slope toward our barn, about 50 feet from where I was standing. I shone the spotlight on him, and he looked back. And then ran faster.

I sprinted back upstairs, retrieved the shotgun, and hoped I'd get back down before he disappeared. Fortunately, he was now up against the barn and moving slowly toward the six foot drop-off that our firewood pile is currently stacked in. But I had a special challenge with him that I wouldn't have had with a raccoon or possum: get too close, and even a perfect shot means I get covered with skunk stench. So I kept my distance, and tried to position myself for the best possible shot.

Where he was right then, a shot would've blown holes in the barn door. As he moved toward the woodpile, he crossed in front of a window. Didn't want to blow the window out --- killing a skunk isn't worth all that. Then he was on the woodpile, and dropping six feet or so from it to the ground. That would've been a perfect time to have blasted him, except my nice huge metal pot was sitting there on the ground, from butchering chickens earlier in the day. Didn't want to blow holes in that.

He continued moving, and was about to disappear into the high weeds along the barn, and I knew I was running out of time. The big problem now was my spotlight. I had a clear shot, but couldn't fire a twelve gauge one-handed while holding a spotlight in my other hand. I tried putting the spotlight between my legs, but couldn't keep the beam focused. (Note to self: You REALLY need to get an aftermarket tactical light to mount to this shotgun.) Figuring this was my only chance, I lined him up as best I could...and pulled the trigger. And waited for the smoke to clear.

And soon realized he was still moving. And definitely disappearing unhurt into the high weeds. Not wanting to get close, I swung wide around the barn and tried to see if he'd emerge, but there was no sign of him. Never saw him come back out, on either side. My light now getting dim, I decided I should count my blessings: even with the noisy report of the shotgun, the skunk didn't let loose with a stink bomb. And hopefully I scared him enough to stay away for awhile. And he stayed outside; the barn had been closed up securely enough to protect our livestock.

Out in my office, I quickly put my mind at ease about the project; everything was fine. I headed back to the house, scanning the barnyard one last time as the last of my battery power faded, but the skunk was nowhere to be seen. I plugged the light in for a recharge, and then headed upstairs to catch a few hours of recharging for my own body.

And dreamed about someday finally actually getting to take that skunk down once and for all.

The Takedown

Late yesterday evening, I secured the barn and began walking back toward the house to call it a night. Remember that post over the summer, where I talked about what an important farm tool a pistol-grip spotlight is? I take that thing with me every time I go out at night, and am more or less constantly scanning the trees and fields as I walk. Last night, it proved itself especially useful. As I approached the house, I used the spotlight to illuminate the tall bushes near the back porch. Suddenly, a pair of eyes lit up in the middle of one of those bushes, about eight feet off the ground.

The eyes weren't moving, and my first thought was that they belonged to a cat. After all, when you have as many barn cats running around as we do, that's what these things usually end up being. And this animal's fur even appeared to be the same color as one of our cats. But as I drew closer, something about it didn't seem quite right. The head wasn't the right shape. And it wasn't sitting like a cat.

It looked like a possum. But since its tail was hidden in the bushes, and branches covered a fair amount of its body, I wanted to be sure before I did anything rash. I summoned Mrs. Yeoman Farmer, lit the animal up with the spotlight, and asked MYF if she thought it was a cat. "No way," she replied. We agreed it was definitely a possum. And I figured it was stalking the barn cats which congregate on the back porch at night.

MYF held the spotlight on the possum, to "freeze" it, while I dashed upstairs to retrieve what may be the most essential of farm tools: a 12-gauge Mossberg pump action shotgun. Back on the porch, I racked a shell of 00 Buck into the chamber, disengaged the safety, and lined the little predator up in my sights from about 25 feet away. One squeeze of the trigger, and he fell through the branches. He was still gripping the branch with that long muscular tail, and at first I wasn't sure I'd landed a lethal blow. But before I had to waste a second shot, he dropped to the lawn with a thud --- and it was clear from the wound that he wasn't "playing possum."

Just another night, living in the country, and marveling at the way all these different tools can work together for the safety of our property. And grateful that I'd remembered to give the spotlight a full charge the night before. And invested in a bulk case of 00 Buckshot, so we'd never have to worry about having some close at hand when we needed it.

More Options on Guns

With this week marking the the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall, there have been a number of stories about the event --- and some interesting stories about Communist consumer goods making a comeback. One "commie good" that has largely gone unremarked in press reports, however, is surplus military firearms and ammunition. The Eastern Bloc produced a lot of really nice weapons, and these are now available in the West at quite reasonable prices. Many gun shops only focus on newer-type firearms, and only carry the Eastern Bloc stuff if a customer sells it to them or consigns it --- but, if you know where to look, picking up an old Commie gun can literally yield a lot of bang for the buck.

First, I'd like to provide a more general update about firearms. Several months ago, I put up posts with thoughts about basic guns that are useful on a farm or ranch, and about the remarkable surge in gun / ammo sales that followed the previous Presidential election. I will reiterate: every farm should have a good pump-action shotgun, preferably a 12-gauge, for home defense and predator control. A longer range rifle can also be very useful, for varmint shooting or hunting larger game, but many find they can can do just fine with a basic .22 rifle. (They are cheap, and so is the ammo.) It all depends on your circumstances, and what you think you might need to shoot. I've personally found that a handgun is nice to have as well; it can be easily grabbed and carried to the barn, and either mounted with a tactical light or used with one hand while the other hand holds a spotlight.

Although ammo in some popular pistol calibers, such as .380 ACP, is still quite expensive and extremely difficult to find (our local Wal-Mart and Meijer stores have been sold out for months, and our gun shop imposes a limit of one 50-round box per customer, and that box costs $26), it appears that production of semi-auto rifles and ammo has caught up with demand. The gun shops I've visited tend to have a good supply of both AR-style and AK-style rifles, and online dealers are again stocking bulk packages of ammo in popular calibers (other than .380 ACP, of course). One online retailer, which just a year ago was "sold out to the bare walls," has lately been offering outstanding cut-rate deals because they are so overstocked. As they admit:

OKAY FOLKS. HERE IS THE DEAL. AFTER AN INCREDIBLE FALL AND SPRING SEASON IT HAS SLOWED DOWN HERE A GREAT DEAL. IT IS NO SECRET THAT IT GETS SLOW IN THE GUN BUSINESS IN THE SUMMER AND EVEN WITH THE THREAT OF NEW LEGISLATION, THIS YEAR SEEMS TO BE NO EXCEPTION.

TO COMPOUND THE PROBLEM OF THE SLOWNESS, WE HAD SUCH A BIG WINTER AND SPRING THAT WE HIRED EXTRA STAFF AND WE WANT TO CONTINUE TO KEEP THEM ON STAFF. AS SUCH, THE ONLY THING WE KNOW TO DO TO KEEP OUR NUMBERS UP IS TO SLASH PROFIT TO THE BONE AND SELL, SELL, SELL.

--- and they are even offering 7.62x39 ammo by the pallet load, something that would've been unheard of just a few months ago. Yep, you can get 40,320 rounds for $7,600 (plus freight), which works out to about .19/round. Since most of us aren't resellers, or preparing for TEOTWAWKI, they also offer 1260-round cases for $250 each. That's not quite as cheap as buying by the pallet, but still considerably cheaper than prices earlier this year.

Which brings us back to Eastern Bloc weapons. One good source for such firearms is gun shows; one can find a dizzying array of items there that a typical gun shop would not be able to stock. But if gun shows are an impractical option, there are other sources. Classic Arms, the online retailer mentioned above, updates its website daily --- and usually offers a fascinating array of firearms. They tend heavily toward AK-variant rifles, but carry the whole spectrum. I usually browse their site once a day, just for the entertainment value and to see what's available.

One of the more interesting firearms they're currently offering is the Draco pistol; think "sawed-off, semi-auto submachine gun version of the AK-47." It's not terribly accurate, and I have no need of one, but for just $350, you can get what might be the ideal survival tool if you're ever stuck in an urban riot situation. It can be fitted with a 30 or 40-round clip of powerful 7.62x39 rifle ammo, but is as compact and maneuverable as a large pistol.

In most cases, if you want to buy a firearm from them, it is necessary to have it shipped to a FFL (Federal Firearms License) holder (typically, a local gun shop), who will complete the background check and record the transaction. This usually entails a fee of about forty bucks, but it varies from shop to shop. However, many of Classic's guns are legally classified "Curio and Relic" --- meaning anyone who has a C&R FFL can purchase such guns from them directly and have them shipped right to one's door. I don't have a C&R FFL, but they are fairly easy to get and not very expensive. Basically, buying one C&R firearm with a C&R FFL saves enough money on the transfer fee to cover the cost of the license.

And what kind of Eastern Bloc bang can you get for your buck? I recently picked up a Mosin-Nagant M91/30 rifle for $80, plus $20 shipping and $40 for the transfer. The Mosin-Nagant is one of the most popular battle rifles of all time, and was used in the Soviet empire up until about 1960. It's a five-shot bolt action rifle that is as powerful as a 30-06 --- but uses military surplus 7.62x54r ammo that comes in a 440-round metal tin and costs about a fourth of what 30-06 ammo does. It comes with iron sights, but optical scopes and mounting kits run about $110 total and can be installed without gunsmithing. Presto: instant deer rifle or long range varmint gun. I haven't yet invested in a scope; I've been basically breaking the thing in, shooting in my back yard.

Actually, what I've been "breaking in" is my shoulder: the Mosin-Nagant kicks like a mule, and it takes some practice to learn how to handle it properly. But this beast is in great shape and is as cool as can be. Mine has "1941" and various Cyrillic characters stamped on it --- and comes with a wicked looking bayonet that's about as long as my forearm (and doubles as a flathead screwdriver when disassembling the rifle). One can only imagine the stories that this rifle could tell. Most remarkable, IMO, is the following that these rifles have attracted; one quick Google search reveals a great many user groups, support forums, and sources for parts/accessories.

And there are lots of similarly powerful Eastern Bloc surplus rifles you can get, also at reasonable prices. How about a Yugoslavian-made M24/47 that fires 8mm Mauser ($.29/round military surplus) ammo? Sometimes they also carry ex-Nazi Mauser rifles, which the Soviets captured at the end of WWII and then shipped around the world to their proxy armies. Or, if you're looking for a powerful semi-auto handgun that uses inexpensive ammo, it's hard to do better than a Romanian TT-33 pistol; the list price is $209, and the 7.62x25 Tokarev ammo is around .11/round. Classic also carries CZ-82 ex-police pistols, chambered in 9x18 Makarov, for around the same price; the Makarov holds more rounds, but is not as powerful as the Tokarev, and 9x18 ammo tends to cost more.

I guess what I'm trying to say is this: if you've been looking for a powerful but affordable bolt action rifle, but have been discouraged by the high prices for brand new American-made 30-30s and 30-06s at the local gun shop (not to mention the cost of ammo), take a look at Eastern Bloc military surplus weapons. Ditto if you've been trying to find a good semi-automatic handgun. These Eastern Bloc firearms are very good; the Soviets may have made lousy consumer products, but they did know how to make effective weaponry. And with the Berlin Wall down, these guns are available here for reasonable prices.

That, to me, is one of the most remarkable legacies of the last 20 years: I can buy in the free market, and own, a rifle that for decades was employed by those who sought to destroy our freedom and way of life. And how can one put a price on that?

Dispactched

As I pulled up to the house at about 6:30 this evening, I spotted an animal running erratically along the shoulder of the road about 50 feet or so ahead. It was roughly the size of a large cat, but I'd never seen one of our barn cats that far off our property --- and certainly not running along the side of the road in this manner. Not able to get a better look at the animal's markings, I dismissed it and turned into the driveway.

As Mrs Yeoman Farmer used a hose to water newly-planted bushes in the front yard, I went inside and began cooking dinner. A moment later, she came running into the house with an urgent request: "Get your gun! There is a sick, rabid-looking raccoon wandering around in the street."

So that was it. No wonder I hadn't been able to recognize the animal at first --- raccoons are never out in the daytime, and they certainly never run around like this one was. Unless, of course, they're rapid.

I dashed upstairs, grabbed the 12-gauge pump shotgun we use for home defense, and then hurried out to the road. The raccoon had now crossed to our side of the street, and was looking as disoriented as ever. Two cars were coming, so I stood just off the road. Strange as I must have looked, standing there holding a large shotgun, neither car so much as slowed down to get a better look at me. Once both had passed, I raised the shotgun to my shoulder, lined the coon up, and blasted.

Because rabid animals are known to charge and attack, I hadn't wanted to get too close to my target. As a result, I didn't score a direct hit with enough of my nine pieces of 00 buckshot to kill the coon. He was definitely wounded, but still on his feet.

I racked another shell into the chamber, and took a couple of steps toward him before firing again. This blast took him off his feet. As he rolled around on the shoulder of the road, I knew he'd never survive these wounds --- but I wanted him all the way dead. Now.

Except there was a small problem: another car was coming. I stepped back from the road, sheepishly holding the shotgun in my arms, wondering if the driver was at all curious as to what I was doing. If he was, he didn't indicate it by slowing down. Once he was safely past, I racked a third shell and again approached the coon. As he was now unable to charge me, I got to within about ten feet before letting go with my final shot --- and this one left no doubt.

MYF and I were both concerned about leaving a dead rabid coon on the side of the road, especially with the propensity our dogs and cats have for poking around and exploring. And what would happen if some scavenger cleaned up this carcass? Could the disease spread wider into the local wildlife population? Plus, we weren't sure if the game department needed to be informed about the situation.

I made a quick call to the local Department of Natural Resources, and the woman I spoke with assured me that there was no need for them to catalog the kill. Coons are terrible spreaders of disease, she said, and I shouldn't hesitate to dispatch them any time they come on our property. As for this one, she told me, I could either bury it or carefully dispose of it in the trash. I chose the latter. After donning latex gloves, I dropped the carcass into a large paper feed bag and then secured it in the trash can. And then washed my hands thoroughly.

What I still can't get over is how totally nonplussed the drivers were as they went past me. As one who grew up in a quiet Seattle subdivision, and lived in fairly densely populated neighborhoods for most of my adult life, I can imagine the utter panic (and calls to the police) that would have ensued if I had walked any of those streets with a 12-gauge pump shotgun over my shoulder.

It really is different out here. And I can't imagine living anywhere else.

Ultimate Security Flashlight

Too bad the FMG9 is still just a prototype, because I really want one of these. And am not sure I'd want to go out and walk my dog at night in an urban area without one handy. Heck, even on the farm, one of these would make it infinitely easier to go investigate what the dog was barking his head off at in the middle of the night.

This brief video really must be seen to be believed:



H/T: Baseball Crank

Clarification

It has come to my attention that in recent days a particular website has begun linking to this blog. That site, which I will not name and to which I will not provide a link, specializes in providing seeds and supplies for growing a particular kind of "grass" which we do not cultivate on this farm and have never cultivated elsewhere. I have asked for that site's link to be removed, but I'm not sure how long it will take. And in the meantime, that link may still be generating traffic and readership.

So, let me clarify and emphasize an important core philosophy of The Yeoman Farmer: if you don't like the rules in your state or your country, advocate for and work to change them --- but don't flaunt and break them unless you're being asked to do something immoral or unconscionable. As one of William Golding's characters put it, "We've got to have rules and obey them. After all, we're not savages."

This blog discusses grape cultivation and home winemaking, but will not tell you how to brew a batch of moonshine or build a backyard still. I discuss firearms and support responsible gun ownership, but would not explain (even if I had the knowledge, which I don't) how to build a silencer for your pistol or convert your rifle to fully-automatic fire. Our family strongly opposes the NAIS, but will (reluctantly) register our livestock with it if we are eventually required by law to do so.

Longtime readers may have observed that the War on Drugs has never before been the subject of a post on this blog. The reason for that is simple: it's not a subject that interests me much, and I don't have strong opinions about it one way or the other. Neither Mrs Yeoman Farmer nor I have consumed marijuana (or any other illegal controlled substance) in any form, and have no desire to do so, even if we were visiting a place where it was legal. That said, I am not unsympathetic to those who would like to change some of the drug laws in this country. But if you're looking for advice on cultivating a crop that isn't currently legal, you won't find it on this blog. We do hope you stick around and enjoy the commentary about everything else related to farming, family, faith, and citizenship --- and work to change the law rather than break it.

The .380 Mystery

Last week, I noted the strong sales of guns --- and now, particularly, ammunition. Among other things, I pointed out that no retailers around here, even the local gun shop with high prices, seem to have .380 pistol ammunition in stock.

Ruger makes an extremely popular concealed carry weapon, the LCP, chambered in .380. It's so small, it can literally fit in the palm of an average man's hand. And while .380 isn't the most powerful cartridge, the LCP can hold seven rounds. Our local gun shop cannot keep them in stock, and only sells them on a wait list. No doubt this is one reason why Sturm Ruger's stock is trading near its 52-week high. (Also, Smith & Wesson released earnings data last night: Adjusted net income for the third quarter 2008 was $9.2 million, compared to $3.7 million in the 2007 third quarter.)

Anyhow, I wondered if the popularity of the LCP, and the shortage of .380 ammunition, were unique to our area. A story today from Tulsa suggests otherwise:

The surprise sales come with .380 caliber semi- automatic pistols. A relatively small self-protection weapon, it's not one that people typically fire in great quantity at the firing range, Prall said. Yet, the ammunition is now hard to find. "Nobody would have predicted that," he said.

"We ran completely out here of 9 mm and .380," said Johny Mathews, product and service manager at the U.S. Shooting Sports Academy on East 66th Street North. "We were begging, borrowing and stealing from wherever."

Concealed-carry classes at the academy are booked through April. "We used to do 15-person classes, and now we do 24 because of the demand," he said.

Mathews believes that politics are partly to blame, but the economy also has people worried. "It's 50/50, I think" he said. "When people lose jobs and get desperate, good people can sometimes do bad things. People hear more about home invasions, robberies, and they think it will only get worse. Then they're afraid they might lose their guns or ammo, so they stock up."

Sales are so intense that Stone has limited sales of .380 ammo to one box per customer at Dong's. He has .380-caliber handguns for sale, and likes to be able to sell ammunition to whoever buys a gun, he said.

A shipment of 10 Ruger .380 LCP handguns was sold in 24 hours this week — seven the first day, three the next. "Last week I had 28 boxes of .380, rationed to one per person, and it was gone in three days," Stone said.

Academy Sporting Goods stores also are low on .380 ammo. "The other day we got 16 boxes of .380 and a guy came in first thing and bought all 16," said Jon Ide, hunting and fishing sales associate at the 41st Street store. "A few people are doing all the buying, and it's the people who are trying to just get a box or two that can't find any."

I'm just glad I got my LCP, and a good supply of .380, when I could. Now, if only I'd invested an equal amount of money in Sturm Ruger stock at the same time...

Just a Couple More Numbers

A quick follow-up to a post from earlier this week, about the increase in sales of firearms and ammunition. Not only do the sales numbers appear to be real...but they're having a real impact on the value of those companies. Most gun and ammunition makers are privately-held corporations, but two in particular are publicly-traded.

Sturm, Ruger and Company (RGR) closed today at $10.32. It opened the year at $5.97 and was at $6.02 on Innauguration Day. Since the innauguration, it has increased 71%.

Smith & Wesson (SWHC) opened the year at $2.27. The day Barack Obama was innaugurated, it had inched up to $2.45. It closed today at $4.43. That's an increase of 81% since Innauguration Day.



By comparison, the S&P 500 closed today at $683. That's a decline of 15% since the Innaugural.

And, to follow up on my previous post about the price of gold: the spot price of gold exceeded the value of the S&P 500 on Innauguration Day (for the first time since the 1991 Gulf War), and has remained comfortably ahead of that index ever since. The two were at a rough parity on January 20th; one ounce of gold is now 37% higher than the weighted average of the 500 largest publicly-traded companies.

I don't offer investment advice on this blog, and I'm not an economist or financial analyst. And I didn't have the foresight to buy stock in either of the gun companies above. But I think these trends are fascinating indicators of what's going on in the marketplace --- and in the sentiment of this nation's investors. And the ways in which Americans are now "voting with their wallets."

Ready for Some Numbers?

In December, I reported on the surge in sales of semiautomatic rifles at our local gun shop; in January, I posted about the remarkable news that the BATFE had actually run out of original forms used to conduct federal background checks on gun buyers, and was allowing gun dealers to use photocopies of the forms.

Semiautomatic rifles and handguns continue flying off the shelves of gun shops across the country, and it's also getting very difficult to find ammunition. The online dealer I usually buy from in bulk is now sold out of .223 (AR rifle ammo), 7.62x39 (AK-47), 9mm Luger, 12-ga buckshot, and many many other popular rounds. He's not even listing .380 Auto on his site anymore, and I can't find that size in any local stores (am glad I stocked up when I could). He finally got some .45 ACP back on his site this morning.

Another dealer I buy from listed a whole bunch of new ammo last Thursday, and I tried calling to place an order. The lines were busy all afternoon, and I never got through. On Monday, they posted a notice that all the new 7.62x39 rounds they'd just listed were now gone (and keep in mind that this was Wolf brand ammo, which is far from the first choice for most serious shooters). Here's what they've posted today:

IT HAS BEEN A MADHOUSE HERE.
WHAT IS UP WITH OUR PHONES?
WE ARE GETTING A LOT OF COMPLAINTS ABOUT HOW DIFFICULT IT IS TO GET THROUGH TO US ON OUR PHONES.

BELIEVE ME, WE KNOW, AND TO QUOTE A FORMER PRESIDENT, WE FEEL YOUR PAIN. HERE IS THE PROBLEM.WE HAVE 7 INCOMING PHONE LINES HERE AT CLASSIC . DURING NORMAL TIMES THIS IS MORE THAN ADEQUATE. HOWEVER, THESE ARE NOT NORMAL TIMES. THE FIREARMS MARKET IS JUST EXPLODING RIGHT NOW WITH THE DEMAND FAR EXCEEDING THE SUPPLY.

FOR EXAMPLE:- IF WE GET IN A BATCH OF 200 AK RIFLES, AND POST THEM TO OUR SITE, IT WILL LITERALLY GENERATE THOUSANDS OF PHONE CALLS TRYING TO PURCHASE.THE SAME THING IS HAPPENING WITH AMMO. WE WILL GET IN A COUPLE OF PALLETS OF AMMO IN AND AS SOON AS WE POST IT TO THE SITE IT WILL GENERATE HUNDREDS AND HUNDREDS OF CALLS.

WE DO HAVE HELPFUL CUSTOMER SERVICE REPRESENTATIVES WHO ARE DOING THEIR BEST TO TAKE ALL OF YOUR ORDERS.BUT THE PHONES ARE LITERALLY RINGING OFF OF THE HOOK.

Since I couldn't get through on their phones, I stopped by Wal-Mart yesterday afternoon, looking for some .45 ACP. They had exactly one box of 50 rounds, and very little in other handgun calibers. (No .380, no .40 S&W, and no 9mm Luger.)

I bought that one box of .45 ACP for $15, and drove to the local gun shop. The place was jammed. After browsing a few 9mm handguns, I turned my attention to their ammo shelf. They had cases upon cases available, in nearly every caliber (except .380 and 7.62x39). It was all the ammo you could ever want --- but at a very high price. A box of 100 rounds of .45 ACP was $45. You read that right: Fifty Percent more than Wal-Mart! But at least they had it in stock. I suppose Wal-Mart could also keep it in stock, if they wanted to jack their prices --- but that doesn't seem to be Wal-Mart's business model. Speaking of Wal-Mart, there are some fascinating discussion threads on various message boards, where people report how difficult it is to find ammo at WM these days. (As for me, I'm seriously wondering if Wal-Mart is deliberately keeping most of their ammo off the shelf, and putting it out a couple of boxes at a time, to ration it and thwart bulk sales.)

There are no readily-available numbers for ammo sales, but there is one indisputably reliable indicator for gun sales: the number of NICS background checks conducted by the FBI. Each background check does not necessarily translate into an actual gun transfer; some sales may not go through after the background check, and I believe some people may be purchasing multiple firearms on the same background check. But it's still a good rough indicator of volume --- and how that volume has changed over time. The raw numbers for the last ten years are available from the FBI. For the last four months (beginning the month Barack Obama was elected), here are the totals:

Nov-08: 1,529,635

Dec-08: 1,523,426

Jan-09: 1,213,885
Feb-09: 1,259,078

Being a social scientist, my first question was "Compared to what?" Well, November and December were 47% and 46% higher, respectively, than the next-highest month last year (March, 2008). January (+17%) and February (+21%) of 2009 were also considerably higher than last March. But the typical sales reporting compares a month's results to the same month one year previously. Here are each month's percentage increases compared to that same month the year before:

What's driving these numbers? For the gun sales, no doubt part of it is concern that the Clinton-era ban on sales of semiautomatic rifles will be reinstituted. (Indeed, the new Attorney General is already beginning to talk about a new ban.) But I think there's a lot more to these numbers than that. All of that increase can't be accounted for by AK-47s and AR-15s. And even if it is, why the run on popular handgun calibers like .45 ACP and 9mm Luger? There is no talk in Washington about banning sales of those.

My gut tells me that these sales are being driven by a deep anxiety that all you-know-what is about to break loose in this country. With increasing economic troubles, the specter of large numbers of people losing their homes, uncertainty about the future of the banking system, the possibility of hyperinflation...I think a lot of people are growing concerned about a widespread breakdown in civil order. Most of us are familiar with the video from the Los Angeles riots in the early 1990s, and remember how business owners had to take their security into their own hands when the police were unable or unwilling to assist.

As for our family...we're relieved beyond words to be far from urban centers, particularly this year. But we're also painfully aware of how far we are from police assistance should we ever need it.

Which is why we are continuing to take prudent measures to augment our own personal security here on the farm. And, should there be serious disruptions in the food supply chain, we are making sure we have plenty of firepower available for bringing home our own game.

How Much Have Gun Sales Increased?

An interesting notice was recently sent to all holders of Federal Firearms Licenses. I am not a FFL holder, but found the notice on the BATFE website:

January 6, 2009

Notice to All Federal Firearms Licensees

Regarding ATF Form 4473 Shortage

As a result of an unprecedented increase in demand for ATF Forms 4473 (5300.9) Part I Revised August 2008, inventory of the form at the ATF Distribution Center is running low.

As a temporary measure, ATF is allowing FFLs to photocopy the form 4473 in it’s [sic] entirety until they receive their orders from the ATF Distribution Center.

A notice will be posted at the expiration of this temporary authorized change.

For those not familiar, Form 4473 is the one that the gun dealer must fill out at the time a firearm is purchased, so a background check on the purchaser can be performed. If there have been so many gun purchases in recent weeks that the BATFE can't even supply FFL holders with forms to conduct background checks...all I can say is, "Wow."

But I am left a bit taken aback that the authorities entrusted with determining who is qualified to purchase a firearm seem to be having difficulty determining whether a contraction (it's) or possessive (its) construction is appropriate. And I'm not just picking on the BATFE. Long-time readers will recall that I made the same point about our local hospital in Illinois.

As I said in a post a couple of days ago, misuse of apostrophes drives me crazy.

Practicalities

One of the things that originally attracted me to Mrs Yeoman Farmer was her utter lack of pretension. And her disdain for status symbols, and her preference for the practical over the luxurious or the merely decorative. She never wore makeup, and she didn't even like jewelry very much. Though she earned a good salary as an attorney, she lived in a tiny apartment with almost no furniture. Her preference was to spend every extra dime paying down her law school loans, rather than buying the status items her peers were snapping up. With her, what you saw was what you got --- and I very much liked the person I saw and was getting to know.

I can see now that these qualities are essential for making a successful relocation to the country. Her diligence in reducing the principal balance on her loans meant we saved a fortune on interest...and were able to scrape together a down payment for our first house all the sooner, which put us on the path of building the equity we later needed to get into our first farm.

It's impossible to count all the ways that practicality must trump appearance or luxury if you're going to make a successful go of small farming. We certainly do take care of our property's appearance, and keep it picked up, but we above all strive to keep it in good repair. And when the time comes to choose something like a wood burning stove, our number one priority is function rather than beauty.

I'm also convinced that one's attitude toward material goods is a huge factor in whether one will ultimately be happy with a small farm. I've met many people who look at our farm with stars in their eyes, but who I doubt would really be happy when the time came to opt for practicality over luxury. And that's fine. This life isn't for everyone.

An amusing illustration of this came at Christmas. Mrs Yeoman Farmer and I were annoyed to no end by all the television commercials for luxury cars, spas, pajama grams, and jewelry. This particular J.C. Penny video, while very funny, is a perfect illustration of what we mean.

Anyway, even as I laughed at the J.C. Penny video, I wracked my brain to think of a gift that MYF would find practical --- but also fun and enjoyable. (In other words, a new vacuum cleaner was definitely out.)

Fortunately, it didn't take long. MYF enjoys firearms, and has been a member of the NRA since before we met (or either of us even owned a gun), but hasn't had the chance to do any real target shooting in a very long time. She'd mentioned this in recent weeks, and I'd replied that once the weather warmed up in the spring we could set up some targets and a backstop out in the pasture. Then it occurred to me: why not give MYF the gift of a day at the pistol range at our local gun shop?

Homeschooled Farm Boy and I went up to the gun shop on Christmas Eve, and picked up a gift card that would cover a range session and plenty of paper targets. I then put this into a nice Christmas card, and wrote up everything that was included: the range time, the targets, the use of both of my pistols, up to 500 rounds of ammo for each pistol (I save a small fortune buying it in bulk from an online dealer), and --- most importantly --- a full afternoon out of the house while I entertained the children.

So...how did she react on Christmas morning when she opened the card? She laughed. She beamed. And she called her father to excitedly detail what she'd get to be doing. And she said in no uncertain terms that she planned to go through all 1,000 rounds.

As MYF has continued to tell her friends about her upcoming day at the range, I imagined the television commercial we could put together:

• One session of range time: seventeen dollars.
• Several packages of paper targets: fifteen dollars.
• One thousand rounds of ammo, including shipping: three hundred and three dollars.
• Having a wife who prefers the pistol range to the spa: Priceless.

Here's hoping that all of you had as happy and blessed a Christmas and New Year as our family has had...

Piles

Some of you out there may be wondering if the recent economic downturn has impacted all businesses equally. Has a receding tide lowered all boats? Or have some retailers managed to buck the regressive trend?

A number of media stories have reported that gun shops have been doing booming business in recent weeks. Even before the election, the folks at my local gun shop commented that their sales level seemed directly proportional to Barack Obama's standing in the polls over the course of 2008; there is genuine concern that, if elected, he would move swiftly to outlaw certain semiautomatic rifles in the same way Bill Clinton did.

In recent weeks, I've had occasion to handle and shoot a semiautomatic (civilian) version of the famed AK-47. That experience helped me understand why the AK-47 has become the most popular military rifle in history: it's amazingly light, well-balanced, with a short and easily-maneuverable barrel, and fires round after powerful round from a high-capacity magazine without missing a beat. Anyhow, I happened to be at our local gun shop this afternoon, and made a comment to the owner about the AK-47, and asked, "I imagine you've sold quite a few of them since the election?"

He stopped what he was doing, looked me in the eye, and replied: "We've sold piles of them. Been all I can do to get them in."

Piles. And it's not just our local shop. An online retailer that I've browsed (but never purchased from) posted the following notice on its site about a month ago:

TODAY IS MONDAY 11/17/2008
THERE ARE SOME IMPORTANT THINGS GOING ON IN THE INDUSTRY. I KNOW THE FOLLOWING IS WORDY BUT READING IT MAY HELP YOU DECIDE WHETHER TO BUY NOW.

OKAY - HERE IS THE DEAL. LAST WEEK WE SOLD OUT VIRTUALLY TO THE BARE WALLS. WE HAD A TON OF INVENTORY LAID IN AND STOCKPILED IN ANTICIPATION OF THE PANIC BUYING THAT WOULD BE CREATED BY THE ELECTION. IT SIMPLY WAS NOT ENOUGH. IF IT SHOOTS OR HOLDS ROUNDS OF AMMO IT PRETTY MUCH LEFT HERE LAST WEEK. I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE IT.

AROUND WEDNESDAY OF LAST WEEK WE CHANGED OUR FOCUS FROM SELLING, TO TRYING TO BEG, BUY AND SCROUNGE ANYTHING WE COULD PURCHASE. IT WAS VERY DIFFICULT. MOST OF THE INDUSTRY IS EITHER OUT OF SEMI-AUTO FIREARMS, MAGS, AND AMMO, OR THEY HAVE PUSHED THE PRICE WAY UP IN ORDER TO SLOW SALES AND KEEP FROM BEING WHERE WE BASICALLY ARE NOW. SOLD OUT TO THE BARE WALLS. THE LARGEST IMPORTER IN THE COUNTRY AS OF LAST MONDAY HAS SUSPENDED SALES OF ALL OF THEIR HI-CAPACITY MAGAZINES AND RAISED PRICES ON ENTIRE CLASSES OF FIREARMS BY 25% TO 40% ACROSS
THE BOARD. THE PRICE INCREASE IS REALLY IRREVALENT HOWEVER AS THEY HAVE NO AVAILABLE QUANTITIES ON ANY OF THESE FIREARMS.

LET ME GIVE YOU SOME PERSPECTIVE.IN THE THIRD QUARTER OF THIS YEAR, ( JULY THRU OCTOBER )WE SOLD THE FOLLOWING
7.62X39 AMMO................361 CASES

AK 30 RD MAGS.....................................783
AK RIFLES (ALL TYPES ) .........................243

BY COMPARISON, IN THE 10 DAYS SINCE THE ELECTION WE HAVE SOLD
7.62X39 AMMO................1218 CASES
AK 30 RD MAGS.....................................3855
AK RIFLES (ALL TYPES ) .........................572

THAT IS IN ADDITION TO THE AR RIFLES, GOLANI RIFLES, TANTALS, AND OTHER FIREARMS THAT HAVE ALSO SOLD LIKE WILDFIRE.SOME OF OUR LARGER DEALER CUSTOMERS HAVE BEEN ATTEMPTING TO PLACE ORDERS FOR HUNDREDS OF FIREARMS WITH US WHEN WE ONLY HAD DOZENS IN STOCK.

WE ARE VERY SMALL AND THESE ARE HUGE NUMBERS FOR US. WE WOULD HAVE SOLD MORE TOO EXCEPT WE SIMPLY COULD NOT ANSWER ALL THE CALLS, AND THEN WE SOLD OUT.

THE GOOD NEWS IS WE HAVE HAD SOME SUCCESS IN BUYING. WE PURCHASED PRODUCT ANYWHERE WE COULD FIND IT WITHOUT MUCH REGARD FOR THE PRICE. IT WAS ALL WE KNEW TO DO. IT WAS EITHER THAT OR BE SOLD OUT AND CLOSE THE DOORS.

Interesting times...

Most Astounding

Of all the astonishing news to come out of Illinois today, one particular item shocked me most. No, not that Rod Blagojevich aparently tried to sell an open Senate seat to the highest bidder. Not that the Governor taunted the press (a la Gary Hart) to try to catch him, just the day before. Not that the Governor used an unbelievable amount of profanity in his professional conversations.

Nope. All that is par for the course for Illinois politics, and those of us who worked on Jim Ryan's gubernatorial campaign in 2002 are at last feeling vindicated today. (I can't think of a man in public life with more personal integrity and higher ethical standards than Jim Ryan, and I hope he comes out of retirement soon.)

This news item was what most surprised me:

The bond specifies that Blagojevich will forfeit $4,500 on bond if he fails to make his next court appearance. He was also ordered to turn in his passport and firearm owner's identification card.

Rod Blagojevich, perhaps the most anti-gun governor in Illinois history, has a Firearm Owner ID (FOID) card? Huh? When did that happen? This is the man who, as a state legislator, introduced a bill to raise the fee for a FOID card from $5 every five years to $500. Since an Illinois resident can't legally purchase or possess a firearm without a FOID card, or even purchase ammunition, Blagojevich's bill would have effectively eliminated legal firearm for all but the wealthy. And as Governor, he has supported a wide range of anti-gun legislation, and earned consistent "F" ratings from the NRA.

The story doesn't mention whether Blagojevich actually owns a firearm or not, or whether the FOID card was a campaign gimmick designed to ingratiate himself with rural voters. But trust me: when I lived downstate, even our least politically active neighbors knew during the 2002 campaign that Blago was "that guy who tried to make the FOID card cost five hundred bucks."

Obviously, that issue wasn't enough to save the 2002 election for Jim Ryan. Neither were the corruption issues we raised about Blagojevich's past. But many of us who have tried in vain to stop Rod Blagojevich in the past will be going to bed happy tonight. Vindicated at last.

But still wondering when --- and why --- he ever got that FOID card.

It's 4am...

Hillary Clinton's "3am phone call" ad has been on my mind all morning. What follows is The Yeoman Farmer December 8th version of that ad. I'll leave it to my readers to determine how good of an advertisement this is for "buying that idyllic little place in the country":

It's 4:06am and Mrs Yeoman Farmer and the Yeoman Farm Children are safe and asleep. But there's a Border Collie in the barn with the livestock, and he's barking. The Yeoman Farmer awakens, and listens. It's just the normal "Hey, I think I might have heard something" bark, so TYF rolls over and tries to go back to sleep.

Two minutes later, the bark changes to one of challenge and alarm. TYF is now wide awake, and thinking too hard about the barn to go back to sleep any time soon. He throws on some clothes, loads a .45 auto pistol, finds the high-powered flashlight (grateful he remembered to fully charge it last week), and heads to the barn to investigate.

Heaving open the half-frozen barn door, TYF is immediately met by a wriggling and energetic border collie. He braces himself, then flips on the lights and gives the barn a quick scan. And sees...nothing but livestock and barn cats. Pistol in one hand, and pistol-grip flashlight in the other, he investigates the deepest darkest corners and rafters of the barn. And sees...nothing. Followed by the dog, he circles the barn and illuminates the surrounding fields. Whatever had been in or around the barn seems to have vanished into the frozen winter air.

The livestock had seemed hungry, so he stashes the pistol and the flashlight in a car, then returns to the barn to get an early start on morning chores. He brings a couple of bales down from the hayloft for the sheep and the goats, smashes the ice on their water tanks, and puts some grain out for the chickens and ducks. He then pets the dog, tells him he's a good boy, secures the barn, and returns to the house.

Pistol and flashlight are unloaded and checked and put away. The Yeoman Farmer undresses and crawls back into bed. As he tries to get sleepy, he remembers that December 8th is a Holy Day of Obligation, and Mass isn't until the evening. And the kids will be sleeping in because they get the day off of school. With the animals all fed and safe and happy, and a light day at work, TYF decides he will sleep in, too.

And ignore any additional barking the border collie might feel like doing. Because it's now 4:30am, and all the Yeoman Farm Children are still safe and asleep. Does anyone really want to go back out to that frozen barn again before daybreak?

What I Like about Guns

Firearms are an essential tool on any farmstead, and it's good to get comfortable with them if you plan on living in the country.

Of top priority is a good shotgun, preferably a 12-gauge pump. 10-gauge is overkill (but good for hunting Canada Geese), and 20-gauge or .410 may not have enough stopping power. When the dog starts barking his head off in the night at some predator, a 12-gauge is a wonderful thing to have slung over one's shoulder when going out to investigate. Just a few weeks ago, I blasted a possum which Scooter discovered near the house. In the past, my Mossberg has easily dispatched everything from skunks to coyotes --- and a blast in the air or the ground is very effective for getting the neighbor's dog to high-tail it back to his own property.

A pump action shotgun is generally the most reliable. And if one awakens to the sound of an intruder in one's house, simply working that pump action is usually enough to send the burglar sprinting for the nearest exit.

Which brings us to another important issue: isolation in the country is a two-edged sword. Privacy is golden, but criminals like privacy as well --- and may see a country house as an easy target out of neighbors' earshot. And it takes the sheriff significantly longer to respond to a call out in the country than in town (assuming the burglar hasn't cut your phone lines, and you're even able to call). In the meantime, the family needs defending.

We've fortunately never been the victims of crime, but with increasing economic troubles (particularly in this state), it's hard to know when rising crime rates might touch us.

This is on my mind because just this morning a car pulled into our driveway and down to the back door of the house. From my office, I had a very clear view of it the whole time. I didn't recognize the car, and there were several youngish people inside who I didn't recognize. I placed a quick call to the house, and Mrs Yeoman Farmer said she didn't recognize the car, either. And we weren't expecting visitors.

I locked my office door and tried to think. What's a guy living out in the country to do in a situation like this? The vehicle certainly didn't look threatening enough to justify a call to the police. But were they casing the place? Sending someone to the back door to break in? Minutes passed, and the driver didn't budge. Why was the driver sitting there behind my house with the engine running? There was simply no way for me to know, but not enough justification for dialing 9-1-1.

I decided to go out to the car and investigate, but the number of people in the vehicle concerned me. I was clearly outnumbered, and they looked to be in the prime of youth (also the prime ages for criminality). But I certainly didn't want to stroll out to the driveway carrying a shotgun. Firearms are like golf clubs, and need to be used situationally. A long gun would've been far too intimidating and confrontational. That's why I also keep a very small, easily concealable, semi-auto pistol close at hand in my office. I slid it out of its place, inserted a clip (but for safety reasons did not yet chamber a round), and slipped it into a pocket. Should I need it, it would be easily accessible...and a round could be chambered quickly enough.

Fortunately, that was completely unnecessary. The driver rolled down his window as I approached the car, and one glance told me everyone in it was harmless. A kid in a safety seat was playing with religious literature, and I could tell from their dress that these were some kind of proselytizers from a local church. The driver explained that "a friend of ours is inside visiting," and I smiled and returned to my office...because I knew Mrs Yeoman Farmer, a highly trained apologist and catechist, would be skillfully handling everything the visitor might want to discuss. An encyclopedic knowledge of both the Bible and Catholic doctrine, coupled with a cheerful and upbeat personality, means MYF usually throws these kinds of visitors for a complete loop. She always invites them in, and they always depart befuddled. And they seldom come back to try again.

As I replaced the pistol in its hiding place and returned to my desk, I said a quick prayer and began offering up my work for the fruitfulness of MYF's encounter with the visitor inside. Roughly 20 minutes later, the car pulled away and MYF jogged out to my office with a report: Jehovah's Witnesses (or "JWs," as we call them). We used to get them all the time when we lived in residential areas, but this was our first since moving to the country (which is another nice thing about living this far out of town). She gave me a run-down of the conversation, which I won't trouble you with here. The bottom line, though, is it's doubtful these people will be returning any time soon.

But back to the firearms...did I feel a little foolish for my overreaction to these people? Sure. And if that car does come back, I probably won't arm myself before going out to greet them. But do I regret carrying a pistol this morning? Not in the least. Because it never hurts to think ahead, or to take prudent measures. And I felt much more comfortable approaching that car than I would have otherwise.

I was never a Boy Scout, but I do remain a firm believer in their motto. And sometimes a firearm is the most effective way for a guy who lives this far out in the country to "be prepared."

Don't Mess with the Goose

We're down to two geese, and both of them are a few years old. We got some eggs from them this spring, but they've stopped laying for the year. For various reasons (especially that we still have several geese in the freezer), we decided not to raise any this year. Older geese are tough as shoe leather, so I've been thinking about butchering them and boiling them for 24 hours to make soup.

One thing I love about geese: they can be tough as shoe leather even when they're still alive. Last night, both of them remained outside the barn when I locked up and secured all the other animals. "Suit yourselves," I muttered, looking at the two of them sitting stubbornly in the chicken/sheep enclosure behind the barn. I went in the house and went to bed.

Not three minutes after my head hit the pillow, I heard one of the geese making a terrific racket. It was definitely a fighting noise, and so loud it traveled all the way across our property. I thought for a moment, and then threw on some clothes, grabbed a high powered flashlight, and ran to the barn.

One goose was still in the enclosure, looking as indignant as a goose can look, and the other one had flown over the fence into the pasture. Whipping the light around a bit more, I found the perp: a fox was slipping through the fence and slinking out into the hay field. Kicking myself for not having taken the shotgun from our bedroom closet on my way down, I ran to my office for the backup 12-gauge I keep there.

By the time I loaded the shotgun and circled the barn, the fox was about halfway across the hay field. He turned and looked at me, his eyes lighting up in the night and making him an easy target --- if only I had a way to keep the huge spotlight on him while handling a shotgun. [Note to self: Next shotgun must be one with a mount for a tactical light.] Necessity being the mother of invention, I wedged the spotlight between my legs and managed to get it trained on the fox --- who was now beginning to trot across the hay field again.

I figured he was about out of range, especially in the questionable lighting conditions, but it was still worth teaching him a lesson. I drew the 12 gauge to my shoulder, pointed in his direction, and squeezed the trigger. The ROAR it made was very satisfying, and I loved the way the blast echoed off the stands of trees and bushes ringing our field. A moment later, I heard something (presumably the fox) crashing through that brush at high speed.

I made my way back to the barn, and discovered a trail of feathers where the goose had made her stand and fought off the attacker. I managed to get both geese in to the barn and the door re-secured, and put the shotgun away. At the very worst, I (and the goose) hopefully gave the fox a scare he won't forget. At best, I hopefully managed to pepper his tail. Either way, I doubt he'll be coming back again any time soon.

A Morning with the Sheriff

Next stop on the "becoming a Michigan resident" tour: the Ingham County Sheriff's office, to register my pistol. It seemed a bit "big brother-ish" to be presenting a firearm to the police and seeking permission to continue owning it. But every state has its own gun laws, and I wanted to make sure I was following them from the start. As soon as I can complete the requisite training course, I plan on getting a concealed carry permit (in my opinion the way in which Michigan gun laws are far and away better than those of Illinois); my pistol would need to be registered then, anyhow.

And even before then, suppose I had to use the gun to defend our family against an intruder. After the incident is over, and the police arrive to make their report, what do you suppose the first question will be? "Could I see your registration certificate for that handgun?" And, "I, uh, came here from out of state and didn't know I had to register it" probably will not suffice as an answer. At least long guns need not be registered, so I guess Michigan laws are still a whole lot less intrusive than they could be.

Anyhow, there I was yesterday morning in line at the Sheriff's office. Ahead of me, at the counter, was a very nice older gentleman who was also presenting a handgun for inspection. After I mentioned that I'd recently moved here from out of state, he struck up a conversation about the local gun shop. As we waited for the clerk to process his paperwork, he told me all about the place and what they have to offer: huge selection, wonderful indoor firing range ("they open at ten, and I'm going over there right now"), gunsmith services, and so forth. I was actually disappointed the clerk finished with him so quickly. Funny how a common interest in something like firearms, which the general public largely does not understand, can create such an instant bond between two people who wouldn't seem similar to each other on the surface.

The registration process took quite some time, in part because I didn't yet have a Michigan driver's license. However, as mentioned in recent posts, I did have a voter registration card --- and I also had that (expensive) dog registration for Scooter. The clerk had to check with her supervisor, but eventually agreed to accept those documents as proof of residency. The "safety inspection" of my pistol (which is what the process is supposedly about) was a joke; she basically just picked up the gun, looked at it from a few different angles, and then set it down. I spent much more time filling out forms, taking a "test" (which was a series of common sense True/False statements about gun safety that any of my kids probably could have passed), and so forth. I was actually surprised they didn't photograph and fingerprint me, but I guess they're saving that for when I get a CCW permit.

Anyway, while I was standing there waiting for the clerk to finish something, a very odd (and sad) incident took place. A woman came into the lobby, and asked another clerk if she could talk to a police officer about a domestic issue. The clerk directed her to a deputy, who met with her in another part of the lobby. The deputy, who struck me as an incredibly nice guy and very professional, listened patiently as the woman explained, "It's my eleven year old. He's completely out of control, and I just can't take it anymore. I honestly don't know what to do. I need the police to get involved, and don't know how to go about doing that."

The deputy asked where she lived, and she gave an address in town. The deputy then explained that their jurisdiction only covers unincorporated areas of the county, so she would need to talk with someone on the local police force. "Can you give me a referral?" she asked. The deputy gave the name of an officer, explaining that he works with all the schools and covers all the problems related to juveniles. The woman thanked him sincerely, and then hurried out to her car.

As I waited for the clerk to finish processing paperwork, I couldn't help reflecting on what I'd just observed. First of all, the woman had appeared to be so average and ordinary: middle aged, middle class, tastefully dressed, well-kempt, well-spoken. She defied the exterior stereotypes that someone might usually associate with "homes that produce juvenile delinquents." But what had been going on behind the exterior? What kinds of influences was her kid picking up at school? From older siblings? Did he have a father at home? A father who was involved and engaged in his life? There was no way to know, and it wasn't fair to speculate. But one word kept pounding through my head: ELEVEN. Her completely-out-of-control son, who needed to be turned over to the police, is ELEVEN.

Why is this significant? I have an eleven year old son, too. I know what eleven "looks like." Or, rather, I know what my own eleven year old son looks like and does. I could not, for the life of me, imagine a child that young and that innocent being so much of a demon as to cause his mother to seek assistance and protection from the sheriff.

I thought about that a lot as I waited for the clerk to finish my paperwork. And I kept thinking about it later, when I was at the local gun shop the man at the sheriff's office had told me about. As the gun shop guy was getting me registered for the CCW training course, a 30-ish man came in with his son. The little boy couldn't have been older than three, and was as cute as they come: big eyes, short brown hair, and very shy. As his father looked at rifles and bantered with one of the salespeople, the boy stood close by and seemed to be observing all of us with rapt attention. What a wonderful thing that his father brought him here with him this morning, I thought. Here was a father who was closely involved with his son's life, spending one-on-one time together at a very young age, and from the beginning introducing his son to the strong, masculine and responsible culture of hunting and firearms. And this particular shop was an ideal setting: warm, clean, safe, well-organized, and staffed by men who were both friendly and knowledgeable. Assuming that the father stuck around and continued building these kinds of connections with his son, I figured the odds of this kid's mother ending up in exasperation at a sheriff's office were close to zero.

I walked back to my truck making a mental note to be more creative and forward-thinking about taking a kid with me on errands like these. Each trip to the gun shop, or bike shop, or hardware store, or auto parts store, or salvage yard...each of those trips comes only once, and each of them slips away so quickly. The big temptation, for me at least, is to make those trips and run those errands alone; there are fewer distractions, and fewer things to worry about when I'm by myself. The key is remembering that each of those trips out of the house is more than an errand: it is also an unrepeatable opportunity to share an experience with another little person.

Really Big Neighborhood Watch

There's been an unusual crime wave in our neck of the woods lately. Over the last week or two, someone has set a string of several arson fires. Most of the fires have been in empty (or abandoned-looking) old barns sitting by themselves out in the country. In other words, easy targets for a bunch of teenage punks who want to see how big a blaze they can start. But over this last weekend, a couple of sheds/old barns right in the town of Loda were torched.

The reaction has been interesting. Out here, we literally cannot rely on the police to come to our rescue. Loda has no police force, and most of the blazes have been in rural Ford/Iroquois counties. In other words, the chances of a cop coming across an arsonist are slightly less than zero. So, residents are taking things into their own hands. Some of our neighbors are drawing up lists of all the known abandoned/isolated buildings that dot the open prairie, so as to better keep an eye open for suspicious activity. And some of these buildings are not truly abandoned; they sit on what used to be homestead sites, but now are simply a big machine shed housing a farmer's equipment (the farmer himself may even live in town).

Abandoned or not, what all these properties have in common is that no one is around to watch them. Our neighbors are now going out of their way to watch them. Out here in the country, all the roads form a grid; each road is one mile away from the next. In going from Point A to Point B, most of us have a fixed route we tend to use --- but it doesn't really add any distance if we instead jog down a different set of streets on the same grid. (It means some extra turns, but not any extra distance.) The general color, make, and model of the arsonist's car is known (a red, late model, Pontiac Grand Am), so all of us have been keeping our eyes peeled for that as we jog around the grid roads looking at the isolated buildings.

Despite the vigilance, the arsonist(s) hit again last night. Just as we were about to put the kids to bed, a fire truck went screaming down our road. "Go follow it!" Mrs Yeoman Farmer urged. I grabbed a large flashlight...and a large caliber handgun with a full magazine. If I happened to come across a car matching the suspect's, with a group of teenagers sitting on the roof admiring their latest blaze, I didn't want to have to rely on the police to come protect me from them.

Turns out, a lot of other people had the same idea. Up and down our road, other vehicles were coming out of driveways and following the fire engine. We found the blaze; it was about five miles north, and was an old barn. Nearly a dozen emergency vehicles, from all the tiny surrounding communities, had responded and the fire was smouldering by the time I got there. I spent some time jogging up and down grid roads, working my way home, but didn't see anything. Stopped at a neighbor's, and the teen aged son was standing in the driveway with a 12 gauge shotgun; his father was still out driving up and down rural roads looking for the suspects. Their own outbuildings didn't have night time security lighting, and the son had stayed home to make sure those buildings didn't become an easy target of opportunity while Dad was gone. We chatted for a few minutes, comparing notes, and then I went home to call it a night.

Our property has a couple of very old outbuildings that would make inviting targets for an arsonist like this one. It's been gratifying knowing that (1) our security light keeps most of them illuminated all night; (2) our two dogs bark and anything that moves; and (3) especially, our neighbors are keeping a close eye out for suspicious activity.

The latest update is that neighbors are talking with the county Sheriff's office to coordinate stake-outs of some of the more isolated buildings tonight. How to best accomplish that, without tipping off the arsonists, will no doubt be the biggest topic of discussion.

On the one hand, it's terribly dispiriting to know that a serial arsonist is on the loose in this tranquil, low-crime community. But on the other hand, it's been incredibly inspiring to watch that same community organize itself to take that arsonist off the streets.

Guns and Abortion

A couple of weeks ago, I blogged about my frustration at having to wait 72 hours to pick up the handgun I'd just purchased...while any woman in the state can have an abortion immediately upon discovering she is pregnant. And yet which decision---to purchase a handgun or have an abortion---is more life-changing and worthy of taking time for reflection and "cooling off"?

Bruce Thornton makes another excellent contrast between gun regulations and abortion laws:

The worst of these prejudices, however, is the liberal bias against trusting individuals to make decisions about how to manage their own lives. Restrictive gun control laws assume that people are too untrustworthy or incapable or stupid to keep and carry a weapon. Thus laws are written by elite snobs who think they know how to run your life better than you do. Of course, this presumption of the average person’s incompetence is very selective. The same people who think a sane, law-abiding citizen can’t be trusted with carrying a gun will assume that a 15-year-old girl should be allowed to abort her baby. Think about it: the mature person can’t carry a gun because he might kill someone, but the teenaged girl can have an abortion that definitely will kill someone.

BTW, I did pick up my Springfield XD .45 ACP handgun last week, and it is a very sweet firearm. I just wish the State of Illinois trusted me enough to let me carry it in public for personal protection---and the protection of those around me.