“I HAVE A GUN!!”

No, not me. Actually, I have one less gun. It was my gift of one of my .22 rifles to our hostess Christina at the Inaugural North Texas Epic Blogmeet that prompted such an exclamation.

Normally, such an announcement is cause for the sheeple to duck for cover, but amongst our crowd, it garnered only applause and congratulatory shouts.

God, I lurves these people.

Among the blogger luminaries present were Phlegmmy and LawDog, the latter sporting the moustache of fame and legend. Matt G., Johnny and Holly were there, as were Bob and his wonderful wife, Swamp Rabbit (who doesn’t blog but should) and Mrs. Rabbit, Mulligan DoOver, Mike of The Holster Site and his lovely wife, Jennifer, Daniel Scott and his wife, AEPilot Jim, OkieRhio, John the Texaner and…

… crap, I’m sure I’m forgetting somebody.

Much good food was eaten, many guns and holsters were coon-fingered, and an excellent time was had by all.

The following day, there was a planned range day, but that was scuttled by a flat tire on Mike’s car and less-than-hospitable range owners (that one deserves a post of its own), so we spent the day tooling around lake Ray Roberts on my jet ski instead.

Suffice it to say that Christina’s spawn now have the perma-grin, and Mike and Jennifer are calculating how many holsters they need to sell to purchase their own ski. Everyone also got a glimpse of the daredevil assassin that lurks beneath my daughter’s adorable exterior.

Seriously, the kid is fiendish when it comes to slinging people around on an inner tube. I kept having to remind her that 60 mph is a wee bit too fast to be skipping across the waves in anything but a boat.

I followed Jennifer and Mike home to Oklahoma Saturday night to make sure their donut spare tire didn’t leave them stranded on the side of the road. I spent Sunday visiting relatives in Oklahoma City, and awoke in the wee hours of Monday morning to make the 10 hour trek back home. I made it home just in time to wash a uniform, grab a bite to eat, and head to work.

Right now, I’m beat. I’ve spent 24 hours of my weekend off behind the wheel of my truck, and a full day on the lake that left me sore in muscles I didn’t know I had. Still, it was a great trip, and at least work doesn’t require me to sit in a truck for 12 hours while I…

… oh, wait.

Crap.