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It was bedtime when I found him In the basement sitting motionless in front of his reloading bench and staring at nothing.   

 

I had fixed him his favorite supper.  Steak, cheesy potatoes and mix vegetables to prepare him.   To prepare him for what you ask?  Well I had to be in to work early that morning.  County Highway hadn’t plowed our road yet.  He told me just to stay home, partly because he didn’t want me out in this winter storm and partly he didn’t want to have to let me use his 4x4 truck to get to work.

 

You see, I and mechanical things just don’t get along.  Our first car I had driven every day to work when something called a water pump stop working.  He noticed something was wrong the first thing that Sunday morning when we were leaving for church.  He said the engine temperature gage was pegged in the red?  Engine head was warped (whatever that is).  I had to ride in his junker of a truck every day as he took me and picked me up from work.  Embarrassing to be seen riding in that thing.

 

Then there was the time I bought the pieces of the hubcap home in a paper bag.  “Nothing happen”, I had told him.  When he came back into the house I could tell he was mad.  “How do you bend a rim without knowing you hit something?”, he asked.  “What’s a rim?”

 

The guard rail that dented the car fender.  The white stuff on the roadway that I drove though, how was I to know it was paint, all over the passenger side of the car he said.  The brick mailbox, a deer, the dent in front of the car that you can’t see, and my favorite car that I totaled when the electric pole hit it last year and the other times…

 

It was six years ago when he bought his new 4x4 he said I couldn't drive it until he put the first dent in it.  But this morning he relented.   A lot of snow had fallen last night and the County hadn't plowed our road yet. 

 

Traffic was slow and I was running late again, looking for a chance to pass.  Everything was fine until that school bus came towards me.  Those buses are BIG!  I moved over to give that bus plenty of room.  Something jerks the truck to the right so I rapidly turn the steering wheel to the left get back on the road.  BANG!!!  The rear of the bus hits my husband’s truck.  The Officer said it looked like the truck could be drivable even with that front wheel cocked funny.  He said just take it slow.  I was hoping once I got the 4x4 back in our garage that the damage wouldn’t be so bad.  And it would be better if I told my husband what had happen before he discovered his truck?  So in preparation I had fixed his favorite meal.  Then our son Facetime and I was cooing over the Grandkids when I smelled smoke.  The steaks were burning!  I put the food on the plates with the black burnt side of the steak down, maybe he wouldn’t notice?  We didn’t talk much.  He seemed occupied mentally and I didn’t want to say anything that might lead him to ask me how the 4x4 had worked for me. When he left the table I watched to see if he was heading to the garage.  HE WASN’T!  He went down to the basement and said something about reloading.  I breathed a sigh of relief.  Maybe later tonight when we are all snugged and warm in bed would be a good time to tell him about his truck.

 

It was pass our normal bedtime and he hadn’t come up from the basement so I went looking for him.  That’s when I found him at his reloading bench staring.  Strange he would act this way over a little burnt steak.

 

“Honey I’m sorry I about your steak.”  He didn’t respond.  Is it possible he already knew about his truck?  I don’t see how!  Did the police call him?  Someone saw the accident and recognized his truck?  Could that be why he ate his meal so quickly and barely talk?

 

“Let me explain about you truck Honey” and I told him all about it.  Even the good part where the green water had stopped leaking way before I had gotten his 4x4 home.  When I finished he slowly turn his head towards me. 

 

“Truck?  Who cares about a stinking truck?  For months I’ve been looking for small pistol primers.  Everybody is out.   Gun shops, gun shows, online, everybody!  I’m finally the winning bidder on GunBreaker for a sleeve of primers.  Begged and pleaded with the bank to rush refinancing the house mortgage so I could pay for them.  Then watched the tracking number as they got stuck in Memphis Tennessee for two weeks!  TWO WEEKS!  Lost gone forever!  Sure the Seller would return my money…I DON’T WANT MY MONEY BACK!  I WANT THOSE PRIMERS!!!!!  Then I noticed last night they had finally left Memphis and were in South Bend for delivery today!  All I could think about during supper is how much those precious primers had cost.  I carefully transferred them from the sleeve into the primer tray.  Gentle circular motion had all the primes orientated with anvil side down.  As I reached for a primer tube my elbow hit the press and all one hundred primers went flying all over.  I’ve spent the last hours looking AND I CANN’T FIND EIGHT OF THEM.  EIGHT!!!!!!!!

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Yup. Never let anyone drive your new truck.

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A 6 yr old granddaughter can find primers where none exists! She climbs under my benches and pick them up for me! 

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While using a magnet to pick up escaped stainless steel pins, I found a very small plunger from a gun spring.  I had not done any spring changes etc. in about 4 years, where did this part go?   I ended up taking all my guns apart to see if something was missing, all was okay, but I did find a crack in the slide of my MK9 Kahr pistol which has been replaced.  Finally about 3 weeks later I remembered I replaced the 2 piece hammer spring in my 1911 and that plunger was from that gun.......99% sure.

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I can remember the good ol' days (last year) when I didn't dismantle the vacuum whenever I heard a rattle go up the hose.  I'm thinking of going to the dump and looking through my trash from a couple years ago. In what now looks like madness I have probably thrown out dozens of primers that got sucked up over the years. Makes me cry to even think about it....

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How do they get under the carpet?????

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a friend vacuumed up primer while cleaning up reloading room , went off and touched off the powder he had vacuumed up , made quite a mess 

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21 minutes ago, watab kid said:

a friend vacuumed up primer while cleaning up reloading room , went off and touched off the powder he had vacuumed up , made quite a mess 

Many, many years ago when I was a reenactor, I had a friend who vacuumed up some black powder after loading paper cartridges. I sure wish I had that on video. Needless to say that was the end of the vacuum. :P

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yes - there was a new vacuum at the end of my story as well , and lots of smoke in the house and dust , 

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My wife vacuumed up a primer and it popped. I was actually pretty surprised she wasn’t upset. But now she no longer vacuums the reloading room. 

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52 minutes ago, Noz said:

How do they get under the carpet?????

My Dillon has a ski ramp for primers that don't go into a piece of brass. Most of the time they stop when they get to the end. Unless there is already one or two there. There are fixes for this. I used to think it didn't really matter if one find it's way somewhere I didn't want to crawl on the floor and get. Now I crawl on the floor, and I'll probably put something there to stop them (they sell little after market pieces for that purpose).

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2 hours ago, Colonel Kraken said:

My Dillon has a ski ramp for primers that don't go into a piece of brass. Most of the time they stop when they get to the end. Unless there is already one or two there. There are fixes for this. I used to think it didn't really matter if one find it's way somewhere I didn't want to crawl on the floor and get. Now I crawl on the floor, and I'll probably put something there to stop them (they sell little after market pieces for that purpose).

The little after market deal wasn't much better.  So rigged this

20210303_215307.jpg

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That’s definitely worth buying another sleeve of small pistols primers with no questions asked.

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