When I was still working and we were quite a few years younger we had some vague dreams of moving a little farther out with more room to breathe and a little more peace and quiet than our current abode. Then life happened and I find I've been in the same spot for forty six years. With tools, machinery, forty-six years of accumulated detritus from a full life, reloading set-up with its' own office and storage with gun safes . . . growing up as a hunter and shooting a lot of competition in my younger days . . . the very thought of having to move and start over gives me the heebie-jeebies. Unless Providence changes the plan, I guess I'm here to to stay until I move to my permanent abode.
In my case and my philosophy I tend to look at it like gambling with the life insurance companies - I'm betting (actually the wife and kids) I'm gonna cash in that policy sooner than later and the insurance folks are betting I'm gonna get even older and they're going to get to invest all my premiums long enough to beat the house. So far, they're winning.
I'm at the spot I know I should downsize and start the process now, knowing the mess I would leave behind that disposing of it would be for the family, but I'm vainly planning and hoping that I can enjoy the firearms and accoutrements for a few years more before I'm okay with letting them go. I understand but marvel at the guys whose tastes and fixations run towards collecting every specimen of one particular model, or action, or caliber or whatever . . . Mine runs to the enjoyment of the memories each one brings back as I pick it up to clean, admire, show off or occasionally shoot when I think of the times spent with it in the deer stand, or plinking cans and bottles at the old city dump with my dad over half a century ago with his guns that still reside in my safe . . . the hours spent with pards, some already gone home, on the range shooting Bullseye, PPC, action games or indulging in our abundance dressing up like our childhood matinee' heroes of the horse operas and showing off the '92 Winchester made in 1903 that still served me in the matches over a century hence.
The truth is, to have such abundance and be so blessed can seem ghastly to some when comparing it to so many in the world who have little or nothing. To us it can be a 'problem' at times. Sorry for heading off down that rabbit trail . . . I'm not criticizing anyone and I'm as guilty as the next guy for sometimes taking it all for granted. Have to keep reminding myself it's just "stuff" and one day it will go the way of all things. I'm just thankful for the life I've been blessed with, family, health, the ability to work, live and love . . . the freedom from want, and . . the freedom we have in this great nation. These threads always send me to this place - life here is short - I'm looking forward to even better eternally.
Forgive an old timer for rambling on . . . .
