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Abandon hope, ye who enter here...

...fearful of the citizenry.

If your name is Hillary Barack Bradyschumerstein, this is the Portal to Hell, the basement of an armed citizen.

Who actually *isn't* a threat to the Republic, except perhaps your paternalistic (Or would that more accurately be stated maternalistic?) view of same. And who, in general, has put more of his literal skin in the game than you have. If you fear me, it's only because you have made me something fearful in your mind.

This was the weekend of changed plans at Castle Argghhh! Sunday was going to be "Act of Valor" day, but turned into "Everybody come to the Castle Day!"  The Castle Argghhh! Petting Zoo and Rifle Range was open for business, and business was good.

First up, Bloodspite and his family were in the region on Saturday to go to the show (in his case, the farewell tour of Riverdance) - just the sort of thing we redneck knuckle-dragger mouth-breathing droolers aren't supposed to be interested in - and he drove some hours to go see it.  They bumped into Homefront Six and family in downtown KC seeing the sights.  While Lia's crew went back to Fort Riley and the house, the Stanleys spent the night in KC and then drove an hour in the opposite direction of home to come visit the Castle Petting Zoo.  Joe hasn't been here since the July the new demesne opened, so it was mostly all new to him and all new to his family.

Joe's daughter would have literally kidnapped Stewart if we hadn't been firm on that issue.  Here she is stylin' with her new BFF...

Of course, there were some moments where Stewart decided to see if Regan could substitute for Savannah, his birth mother...

That didn't go over so well.  Regan is a young woman of very expressive face.

Later that afternoon, after the Bloodspites had departed, my old friend Charley (who works at Cabelas, heh, I have two friends who work at Cabelas... go figure) brought two of his co-workers over to see the Arms Room and to shoot WWII era weapons.  These being folk of the type who just love anything new and shiny, they had missed the chance to shoot the old standbys. So Charley's M1 Garand, M1 Carbine, and two M1911A1s (one of which being a Union Switch and Signal!) got exercised.  No M1 thumbs, but there was a bit of rifleman's shoulder...  

I always kind of figured my friends would come and avail themselves of the range facilities - but I admit, when we moved out here, being a petting zoo wasn't in my mental image.

But I'm glad it is.


And clearly there needs to be a Maintenance Day this spring....
Um, why is there a level on the header at the bottom of the stairs?
Because, as is blindingly obvious to any air-breather, it was used to ensure the signage was reasonably square and plumb, the ladder (seen leaning against the I-beam support at the bottom of the stairs) having been removed just prior to the picture being taken.

And the picture being viewed resulted in a minor tweak to the "Authorized Personnel Only" sign to bring it into conformance.

Geez.  I mean, c'mon, it's obvious.
John just wanted to illustrate that he is on the level.
Well, if that's the case, you shoulda made sure they were centered, too.
It's close enough for gov't work.  And square and plumb was far more important.
Lamb "Stew" sure is a camera hog!
Too many of you guys look at Stewart with Bad Eyes...
Plumb and square but not centered....isn't that like detailing a car but leaving the tires muddy?
Although, that would be typical of *government work*.....
I'm torn.... If you had NOT included the pix of the young lady I might have offered one sort of comment about your title and initial premise.

Now I' m left with - neato!

Nice that the flame thrower is the first thing at the base of the stairs.  That alone would probably cause some people to have the vapors...  :-)
 Well, since the Dark Lord is obsessing over a .5 inch discrepancy in sign-hanging, I suppose she'll next pipe up and argue that the *first thing* at the base of the stairs is in fact the M20 75mm Recoiless Rifle, made by the Firestone Tire and Rubber Company, sitting on the Rock Island Arsenal M1917A1 tripod.

But I could be wrong.

Riflemans shoulder?  Bah, shoot my steel plate butted 1903 Springfield that you have kept so lovingly in your armory and you'll know what riflemans shoulder really is.

Love that rifle, but it kicked the hell outa me everytime I fired it and I'm a big guy.  Bruises galore and yes, I know all about stock and cheek welds.

It amazes me how the (comparitively tiny) doughboys and gyrenes of that era were able to fire that monster on the range (nevermind combat) and not come away all black, purple and yellow.  Were they of a tougher breed than todays warrior?  I dunno.  As I stated, I love that rifle, but ow!
Actually, if I'm gonna be picky, I'd note that the *first thing* at the bottom of the stairs is....
The Floor.
But, hey......
I don't suppouse we could see the fiddly bits of that flamethrower?

Kevin, I believe you have to put the butt of that thing into just the right place in your shoulder, to avoid injury.
I was going to complain about sly until I remembered that she is an Intel person, like my housemate who is even weirder than I am. They Are Not Like Us.