Minding my own business…not hurting anyone…just trying to go about my life without interference and pain. And I get a text message:

“Estate sale near your place with lots of gun stuff…” and an address.

Okay, maybe it’s worth checking out. Hop on my bike and ride over.

So here’s how you know the decedent was a serious gun guy.. he had cleared out his dining room, shored up the floor, and parked a four foot bed lathe and a milling machine in there and made it his machine shop. I got there in time to see a guy buy it for a ridiculously low amount of money and then come back with a flatbed and a forklift.

Indeed there was a  lot of reloading stuff…Berger bullets, Lapua brass, etc, etc. Heck there was freaking quiver of Dewey cleaning rods. I started chatting with the gal selling it all. Her dad passed away in February. Turns out, it was someone I knew. I hadnt seen him in about a year and his diabetes finally got the better of him, but not before cruelly making him a semi-blind, fuzzy-headed, nursing home candidate.

Since it was someone I knew, I had a good idea of what would and would not be there. Lotsa 6.5 stuff, plenty of .223, and lots of expensive reloading gear. The kids were up from Florida and wanted to get everything sold and outta there. Pretty much the perfect storm of motivation to allow one to make some…somewhat profitable…deals. So..yeah..I bought it all. Some of it I’m keeping, like the Lapua brass and a fw of the micrometer dies, the rest Im going to try and flip for quick cash.

And I gotta buy some beer for the guy who turned me onto the deal.

And I was trying so hard to not spend money this week. Mmmph.