22.2.22.

This date, involving my .22 rifle, must not pass without a posting on my blog. So I left before 7.30 heading to the Police shooting range in Senaling for part of my gun licence renewal exercise. It's fixed for 8.30 but knowing the normal traffic, my departure time wasn't that early. I was right. I got no. 139 as my turn to shoot.

I'd had this  rifle since 1995. But I keep it in a leather holster when not in use, and that is not too frequent, too. More than one fellow gun-owners today remarked that my rifle looked new, when all the other guns around looked worn. Even the policeman who was my inspector said the same thing. He was quite taken by the rifle, because I know there are less than 10 of these in KP. He was also impressed that I knocked-off both falling plates, and hit my main marked target with the other 3 shots. This is not a shot-gun. There's one single tiny bullet that you can easily miss at 25 m. So Datok Sulaiman's whatsapp that said my shots would "dobuih" (he also attached the detailed explanation for the Negri term) was the one "dobuih"!

Jimikoling came as I got out of the car on arrival. I'd called him a couple of days ago, thinking we might go somewhere after the shooting range, but at 10.30 when I'd finished he was somewhere in Ulu Bendol, so I told him "next time lah".

Once over Bukit Putus this morning, a heavy mist was over the road and surrounding countryside, right up to Gemetir. There was a heavy rain in Seremban yesterday, and it might have covered KP, too. But when small I remember hilly KP could be cool. I remember cold nights, and waking up in the morning to see the bottom half of the coconut oil bottle a milky colour because of the temprature drop. So I drove with the small lights on and now-and-then turning on the windscreen wiper to clear the fogging windscreen.

I told Jimikoling I stopped for breakfast at our regular kedai makan just outside his housing area. I didn't have time to spare, but knowing how these things can drag on, I thought I might as well "alas perut" (literally, line my stomach, but you know what I mean). So probably I deserved that no. 139.

The RM 30 for this morning was credit the Police Club for "shooting fee", not for the licence, which will come later in June. And this time this would be organized over the several chosen police stations in KP. "No hall to hold the event" was the OCPD's answer to my query as to why KP Police hq is not this time listed as one of the venues. But the RM 30 came with 2 sandwiches and a small bottle of mineral water everybody got. The 2-hour wait meant the pack came in handy. The rubbish strewn over the waiting area was proof of that.  Malaysians !

I decided to visit "mee Ibrahim" after the shooting range. His son greeted me; Ibrahim and wife are long gone. I asked for cendul (from the next stall) and also paid for the homeless lady who managed to force away that talkative old man with her unpleasant odour when I finished. Old KPians don't forget "mee Ibrahim" even when they are settled far and away. I remember one time I stopped on my way from work at one of the Jempol's Felda schemes (I left Felda in 1990, so figure out how long ago that was) for a mee Ibrahim, and who did I bump into, doing the exact same thing ? Raja (now Tun) Alias !

A brief stop at the Melang cemetry was in order. I see that they have cut down that large shady tree over dad's grave. The dead leaves used to collect over his resting place, and it took some doing removing them. So now there's no shade, but also no dead leaves.  That's ok. But where have they dumped the rubbish? Well, at least part of it now fully hides my maternal grandmother's 60-year-old grave from sight. That's not ok. I'll have to come back, better-equipped, and spend at least one whole day to clear that up. 

I was back home before 1. But there'll be no lunch at home today. SAINS already informed us there'll be no water the whole day today 22.2.22.

Sigh !

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