"Just tell your mom that 'eyebrows grow back'." and with those words a weekend of living dangerously began.
Saturday we worked on building a couple of Jam Jar Jets and some Penny Stoves. We also futzed around with the Cystal Radio and the Foxhole Radio trying to get those to work. They are proving to be a challenge to get to work, but we haven't given up hope. I'll work on them and see if I can learn the secret, get them to work and then guide Robert.
We also went to Home Depot Saturday morning for their Kids Workshops, if you have young kids, especially boys, this a great opportunity to let learn to use hand tools and build something neat for mom. They hold them the first Saturday of each month. If you have Cub Scouts this can complete some of the requirements for the different levels. Oh, did I mention that they're free.
Anyway Saturday night after dinner we tested the Jam Jar Jets and Penny Stoves. Yes, our Jam Jar Jet broke also. It was really cool for the 40 seconds it worked before the heat made it crack. We learned quite a bit as we had a couple of different designs for each, so next time we'll build some with tweaked designs and these we'll use these toward his Webelos' Craftsman badge. However, in the continued Pussification/Nerfication of this country, he won't be allowed to actually use his Penny Stove while at any Boy Scout event. Don't get me started on that. Pretty soon they'll take away pocket knives and just let them play with rubber knives.
Sunday was more fire. Well more Firepower. Pheasant hunting at Rock Hollow Hunt Club. Once a month during the season, Brendan and Mary have "Kids Hunt Free" (Notice a trend here ?) Yep, a guided hunt over dogs for Pheasants. While Robert and his friend Conner gave their Rossi Single Shot 20ga shotguns a good work out (Robert fired 6 times and Conner 3), the pheasants won again, as none fell. However upon getting back to the clubhouse, the boys were drawn to the truck with about 20 dead hen pheasants sitting on it's tailgate. (Hens are legal to take at Preserve or "Put and Take" operations). They had been taken in one of the guided shoots that morning and the hunters had taken the cock pheasants while leaving the hens for club. One of the guides came over and had the boys mesmerized as he demonstrated how to clean one. Brendan then told the boys that they could take home some of those birds if the parents allowed.
Robert, of course picked the two largest hens. We stopped and got ice and since it was late when we got home, they got put in the garage fridge, still on ice.
Monday afternoon after school, Robert got the chance to clean "his" pheasants. He was impressed at the size of the heart of pheasant (He wouldn't eat one raw.) and wasn't happy about getting "pheasant poop" on his hands when he accidentally squeezed the intestines and didn't quite get all the entrails out on his first pheasant. He was also amazed at the amount of blood that was on his hand when he finished. I pointed out that those birds were living, breathing creatures and deserved out respect and thanks. I told him how each time I take a animal when out hunting I quietly say a prayer to thank it for giving it's life to sustain mine and that of those near and dear to me. He looked at me and said "That's cool, dad". He then asked when we'll have Pheasant Bake and I replied "Soon, Robert, very soon."