The work of moving stuff out of the house is close to over, but a few things remained, and one of them was resolved today: disposing of my dad's guns.
My dad had three handguns and two deer rifles. One of the rifles went to his brother after he died (12 years ago), and the remaining guns were still at the house. I don't hunt and have no use for the guns, so I'm hoping to sell them.
I contacted a gun dealer in the Iron Mountain, and he came up to look at the guns today. We agreed that he should sell them for me on consignment. But that took us up against the law.
Here's the situation. I live in Michigan. The dealer lives in Michigan. The house is in Wisconsin, just across the river. Follow me so far?
First of all, there was no problem with the deer rifle. It can be sold however we can.
The handguns, however,
About a half hour later, while we were near the nursing home, my cell phone rang. It was the guy. I need to sign off on them in person at the police station. So off we went.
Actually, the situation was a bit more complex than that. First, I had to get the paperwork done to register the guns to me. That involved looking up my police record and stuff like that--background check, I guess they would call it. Then they did a check on the guns, with serial numbers, to make sure that they weren't stolen or anything. That took more time.
Then I got some green forms I had to fill out. It was a triplicate form on one sheet, and I had to fill out three different sheets--one for each of the three guns. Then some more forms. In the end, I was now recognized as the licensed owner of the three guns.
After that, the procedure started again, for the process of transferring the guns from me to the dealer so he can sell them. More paperwork, more green forms to fill out (though not as many). They had already checked that the guns weren't stolen, and they had the background of the dealer already.
The whole process took about 80 minutes. It just required patience with the forms and all the repetitive stuff. There were no problems: just all the jumping-through-hoops procedure the cops (and we) had to follow.
It took a big hunk out of the day. The weather, by the way, was about 90 degrees and a little humid. Fortunately, the police station was air-conditioned.
We eventually got out, got supper and visited my mom (about two hours later than we planned). We took several more boxes home, and there's little left at the house to take back, aside from pieces of furniture that wouldn't fit in my car in a million years.
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It was about 90 degrees F today (32C) but that will be ending late this week. Early next week, we are supposed to have highs about 60F (16C), and the lows will be around 40F (4C). Quite a cool-off is in store.
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We wound up visiting my father-in-law over Labor Day weekend. It could be our last visit to him.
Some of you may remember that he had a bad case of pneumonia last spring. He's been back home all summer, but he told us he doesn't feel he has a lot of time left; the pneumonia has never completely left him. That's what my wife had told me earlier--when the cold snaps start coming this winter, that could finish him off; a lot of old people in ill health die when the weather turns cold. He is 79 and looking more frail than when we last saw him in June.
We had thought we might hang around home and sleep a lot over Labor Day weekend. But then my wife thought about her dad and decided we'd better see him. She was right, and even with all the driving (there and back on consecutive days) I'm glad we went. Our next chance wouldn't have come until late November, because of my work.
We had a little cookout, based around loading his basement with wood for this winter. I did some of the unpiling and piling--and let me tell you, it's much easier to undo something than it is to do it. My guess is that he should have enough wood down there now for the next three winters.
Which, under the circumstances, I find a bit ironic.
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