Pop's old Colt .38-.40

On my last trip to Annapolis, Jimmy gratefully returned Pop's old Colt .38-.40 to me, along with the holster.

That's the gun that "killed Jesse James", as Pop always claimed. Yeah, sure. That one, and about 10,000 others.

The gun is no longer in firing condition. But I'll bet it's in the same condition it was, when I fired it 60 years ago. Man, oh man; I surely must have lucky, when I pulled the trigger back then.

And that holster? I remember shopping for it. I ordered a bunch of catalogs out of Mechanix Illustrated and then carefully shopped. Eventually, I ordered the holster from some outfit in California, as I recall, that was probably glad to have some kid's $10-15. When the holster arrived, I noted what company manufactured it.

Brauer Bros., of St. Louis, Mo. And where was I when the holster was delivered. At home - in St. Louis, Mo. (OK, so actually University City, Mo.)

By the way, that leather belt you see in the picture. Over the years it shrank quite a bit and won't fit me now.

Chicken plates

Remember these plates?

When we were kids, how much attention did we give to Mom's "special" chicken plates?

I saw one in Columbia, S.C. on my motorcycle trip to Annapolis, Richmond and Columbia. It was in a hallway at a Lizard's Thicket Restaurant.

Shame on me. I thought about trying to sneak it out of the plateholder, but I didn't know if there was a string behind it to a little bell.  heh-heh.

OK, who has the plates? How many are left? Saucers? Cups? (No, I don't want one.)

Back in the saddle

Yesterday in Columbia, S.C. my daughter, Stephanie, and I went horseback riding. The day brought back memories of Missouri Stables (just down the street from the Highlands) and the farm in Chesterfield.

I rode a horse, Zeke, on Saturday that was 17-2 hands, and I was reminded of Itsy-Bitsy, Mom's horse, which was 16-2 hands.

I went on a trail ride with others on Saturday, and then yesterday Stephanie and I went on a trail ride - just the two of us. Stephanie had ridden dressage and jumpers in high school and college.

Me? I just enjoyed riding. I recall a day one summer at the farm, when Mom was making a trip to Wetzel's. She told me to stay off the horses. And I did - until the taillights on her station wagon were out of sight. She was a smart one, Mom was. She turned around and caught me just as a climbed aboard one of the horses bareback and with no bridle.

Didn't Mom say, "Don't ever ride a horse you can't see over?" Needless to say, I had to lead Zeke to the mounting block that Saturday!