Monday, September 3, 2012
Little Dandy Powder Measure Test
A good friend, alchemist and all around mad-scientist asked me whether an RCBS Little Dandy Powder Measure might be a good addition to his loading setup. He has need of some relatively small metered charges of either Winchester 231 or Alliant Bullseye for a loading project he is finishing up. His powder measure is set up for a different charge and he doesn't want to fiddle with it and he doesn't want to have to weigh every one of the small charges. Since I fell into 4 of the measures and a cigar box of rotors a while back, I offered to help him determine whether they might be accurate enough for his purposes.
The process was simple. Throw twenty charges of Bullseye from the measure and see whether they were all pretty much the same. For an electronic scale, I used the scale on my Lyman DPMS II. Each charge was dropped into the scale's pan, the pan was placed on the scale, the cover closed and then left to sit for a slow count to ten to let anything that needed settling down settle down. The result was then written in a log book and the powder on the scale was put back in the measure before the next charge was thrown. That way, the amount of powder in the measure was always the same whenever a charge was being thrown.
The smallest rotor I have is a #1. I have learned that they do make smaller ones. Those are #0 and #00. The chart for the measure says that the #1 rotor will throw a 2.5 grain charge of Bullseye. Small enough for test purposes. One thing about this measure is that, if you want a charge that is between what two adjacent rotors throw you can always buy the bigger one and drop some solder, epoxy or JB Weld into the chamber and then whittle it out once its solidified or cured to get a rotor that will throw what you want.
The first thing that became apparent was that, with my particular lot of Bullseye, the charges were a tad heavier than the chart said they would be. That's why they say to weigh the charge it throws when you get started to make sure its throwing what you think its throwing. The second was that there were times when the charges were so close to whatever tolerance the scale uses to decide whether its weighing 2.7 or 2.8 grains that it would often just sit there alternating between the two numbers. That's why I gave it a count of ten to settle down before taking the official reading. Still, even with a count of ten, half the charges were so close to the scale's tolerance that they never did decide on which side of the fence that last 1/10 grain should cast its vote.
Here's how it worked out:
Looks like something like 2/10 to 3/10 of a grain variation could reasonably be expected. That's assuming that the scale is reasonably accurate itself. 0.2 to 0.3 isn't that big a deal unless you are right on the ragged edge of safety. As a percentage of the charge thrown its pretty big but these are tiny charges so anything is pretty big by comparison.
I did not test any 231. By the time I got done with the Bullseye I was so preoccupied with the numbers that I did a stupid thing. I realized what I had done before it had a chance to cause any harm but I decided that if I wasn't paying any better attention to safety than I evidently was, (or wasn't) I should get the hell out of the reloading room and do something else.
I will mitigate the stupid thing that I did after dark tonight so it can't hurt anybody. It will make a pretty post.
The process was simple. Throw twenty charges of Bullseye from the measure and see whether they were all pretty much the same. For an electronic scale, I used the scale on my Lyman DPMS II. Each charge was dropped into the scale's pan, the pan was placed on the scale, the cover closed and then left to sit for a slow count to ten to let anything that needed settling down settle down. The result was then written in a log book and the powder on the scale was put back in the measure before the next charge was thrown. That way, the amount of powder in the measure was always the same whenever a charge was being thrown.
The smallest rotor I have is a #1. I have learned that they do make smaller ones. Those are #0 and #00. The chart for the measure says that the #1 rotor will throw a 2.5 grain charge of Bullseye. Small enough for test purposes. One thing about this measure is that, if you want a charge that is between what two adjacent rotors throw you can always buy the bigger one and drop some solder, epoxy or JB Weld into the chamber and then whittle it out once its solidified or cured to get a rotor that will throw what you want.
The first thing that became apparent was that, with my particular lot of Bullseye, the charges were a tad heavier than the chart said they would be. That's why they say to weigh the charge it throws when you get started to make sure its throwing what you think its throwing. The second was that there were times when the charges were so close to whatever tolerance the scale uses to decide whether its weighing 2.7 or 2.8 grains that it would often just sit there alternating between the two numbers. That's why I gave it a count of ten to settle down before taking the official reading. Still, even with a count of ten, half the charges were so close to the scale's tolerance that they never did decide on which side of the fence that last 1/10 grain should cast its vote.
Here's how it worked out:
Looks like something like 2/10 to 3/10 of a grain variation could reasonably be expected. That's assuming that the scale is reasonably accurate itself. 0.2 to 0.3 isn't that big a deal unless you are right on the ragged edge of safety. As a percentage of the charge thrown its pretty big but these are tiny charges so anything is pretty big by comparison.
I did not test any 231. By the time I got done with the Bullseye I was so preoccupied with the numbers that I did a stupid thing. I realized what I had done before it had a chance to cause any harm but I decided that if I wasn't paying any better attention to safety than I evidently was, (or wasn't) I should get the hell out of the reloading room and do something else.
I will mitigate the stupid thing that I did after dark tonight so it can't hurt anybody. It will make a pretty post.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Blue Moon at Gettysburg
Blue moon rising over Gettysburg seen from the North Carolina monument.
Taken by my brother.
Taken by my brother.
Coonties
Probably at least a dozen years ago, I was inspecting a house owned by an attorney and his tree hugging wife and she told me all about these little plants that lined her driveway. They were the most ancient plant still living that was native to Florida and nearly impossible to find. She was proud that she had paid $100 each on the internet for the two score plants among all her other fancy landscaping. She said they were prehistoric and "living fossils." Big deal. So am I. I looked at them and didn't really recognize what they were because I
hadn't ever seen any that were so small. I had seen mature ones but
her's were probably less than a year old.
What they were was Coonties. For what its worth, they are Cycads. How that's different from a palm is beyond me but they are one of a few plants that look good planted around a house that actually want to grow in North Florida. I was no stranger to Coonties. I had seen them in a couple of North Florida graveyards and at some old houses where old relatives lived when I was very young. My Grandfather put them by his Father's headstone and then put them at the corners of my Grandmother's family plot where he would, one day, rest next to her.
Coonties were a popular plant a long time ago because they look good and, like I said, they want to grow in North Florida. They are making a come back of sorts now that everybody has decided to stop trying to force plants that have no business being in Florida to grow here. They like poor, sandy soil. They Don't really mind drought and can survive occasional flooding. They thrive in the filtered, shady sunlight of an upland hammock but can also do well in the sun. Heat? Turn it up. Cold? Florida can't get cold enough to hurt one. Old folks would plant them near the corners of their houses. When my brother and I went to see what was left of the old settlement on Atsena Oatie Key, it was coonties that told us where the houses were before the big hurricane washed most everybody away. We noticed big clumps of coonties and found piles of bricks next to them. Those were the piers that the houses were built on. We also found the brick outline of a fireplace. We stood amongst the coonties where someone had built their living room back in the 1870s. Had we not known their significance, we would have just walked on by.
It wasn't but a couple of months after getting the $100 each speech, that the Lovely Bride and I happened to be at a place called The Hand Me Down Nursery, looking for azaleas. The Hand Me Down Nursery was a kind of a strange place. It was situated in the middle of a residential subdivision but had been there a lot longer than the subdivision so it was grandfathered in. You'd drive through the gate and wait in the car while the dogs barked at you. Pretty soon, a little old lady that looked about like Granny Clampett's older sister would come out and ask what you were looking for. The dogs would calm down and you'd have free run of the place.
We went there looking for azaleas but it turned out to be coontie potting day. Granny's family was working in a potting shed splitting up coonties. Hundreds and hundreds of 'em. They were big enough that I recognized what they were so I asked her the price. The small ones were two dollars and fifty cents each and they went up from there all the way to twelve dollars for a nice big one. Her small ones were bigger than the $100 ones the lawyer's coontie-expert wife had bought on line. I forgot about the azaleas and bought half a dozen medium ones. Several years later, we went back and Granny was gone. Her daughter was selling off the last of the stock and we got ten big ones for five bucks each.
The thing about coonties is that they look like a cross between a sabal palm and a fern and they have seeds. Big, bright orange seeds that look like giant kernels of corn. The seeds grow on a cone at the base of the plant and start to fall off along about May. Then they do everything they can to avoid germinating. If the big orange corn kernel doesn't attract a certain kind of beetle to eat the outside away, it shrivels up into a hard shell. I have been told that they only germinate after forest fires once that happens. I tried throwing a handful into a pile of burning pine straw and it didn't work. I have read that nurseries will use acid to eat the coating away from the seed. Its well-adapted to living in a place that wants to kill everything like Florida does.
So, last May, here I was with coonties growing in two different places in the yard, hundreds of fresh, bright orange coontie seeds and the idea that there had to be a way to make the danged seeds grow. I found some info in the internet and eventually stumbled onto a site called the Cycad Jungle. That fellow knows more about coonties than just about anybody and he uses an enzyme to remove the shell. I called him to get some enzyme and he said to just soak them in water for a couple of days and peel the orange off with a paring knife unless I had ten thousand or so to do. Well dang. It took a couple of hours to peel the orange off fifty seeds but I got it done and I planted them in some sandy soil that I shoveled into one of those cheap, plastic pans that they sell for mixing small batches of concrete. I fastened a piece of hardware cloth over it to keep squirrels out and waited.
Nothing happened except that I grew one hell of a crop of weeds. The Cycad Jungle guy had said that it would take two or three months for them to germinate so I didn't worry when we passed the two month mark. Three months came and went and I just had bigger weeds. The Lovely Bride wanted me to dump the whole thing in the yard and try again next year. I checked it every couple of days for any sign of coontie life and there was just nothing until last Friday. I looked at the pile of weeds and there was familiar frond sticking up through the hardware cloth. I got down closer to it and saw more. I started cutting and pulling weeds so I could get the hardware cloth off the pan and see what I had and found fourteen little coontie seedlings.
What they were was Coonties. For what its worth, they are Cycads. How that's different from a palm is beyond me but they are one of a few plants that look good planted around a house that actually want to grow in North Florida. I was no stranger to Coonties. I had seen them in a couple of North Florida graveyards and at some old houses where old relatives lived when I was very young. My Grandfather put them by his Father's headstone and then put them at the corners of my Grandmother's family plot where he would, one day, rest next to her.
Coonties were a popular plant a long time ago because they look good and, like I said, they want to grow in North Florida. They are making a come back of sorts now that everybody has decided to stop trying to force plants that have no business being in Florida to grow here. They like poor, sandy soil. They Don't really mind drought and can survive occasional flooding. They thrive in the filtered, shady sunlight of an upland hammock but can also do well in the sun. Heat? Turn it up. Cold? Florida can't get cold enough to hurt one. Old folks would plant them near the corners of their houses. When my brother and I went to see what was left of the old settlement on Atsena Oatie Key, it was coonties that told us where the houses were before the big hurricane washed most everybody away. We noticed big clumps of coonties and found piles of bricks next to them. Those were the piers that the houses were built on. We also found the brick outline of a fireplace. We stood amongst the coonties where someone had built their living room back in the 1870s. Had we not known their significance, we would have just walked on by.
It wasn't but a couple of months after getting the $100 each speech, that the Lovely Bride and I happened to be at a place called The Hand Me Down Nursery, looking for azaleas. The Hand Me Down Nursery was a kind of a strange place. It was situated in the middle of a residential subdivision but had been there a lot longer than the subdivision so it was grandfathered in. You'd drive through the gate and wait in the car while the dogs barked at you. Pretty soon, a little old lady that looked about like Granny Clampett's older sister would come out and ask what you were looking for. The dogs would calm down and you'd have free run of the place.
We went there looking for azaleas but it turned out to be coontie potting day. Granny's family was working in a potting shed splitting up coonties. Hundreds and hundreds of 'em. They were big enough that I recognized what they were so I asked her the price. The small ones were two dollars and fifty cents each and they went up from there all the way to twelve dollars for a nice big one. Her small ones were bigger than the $100 ones the lawyer's coontie-expert wife had bought on line. I forgot about the azaleas and bought half a dozen medium ones. Several years later, we went back and Granny was gone. Her daughter was selling off the last of the stock and we got ten big ones for five bucks each.
The thing about coonties is that they look like a cross between a sabal palm and a fern and they have seeds. Big, bright orange seeds that look like giant kernels of corn. The seeds grow on a cone at the base of the plant and start to fall off along about May. Then they do everything they can to avoid germinating. If the big orange corn kernel doesn't attract a certain kind of beetle to eat the outside away, it shrivels up into a hard shell. I have been told that they only germinate after forest fires once that happens. I tried throwing a handful into a pile of burning pine straw and it didn't work. I have read that nurseries will use acid to eat the coating away from the seed. Its well-adapted to living in a place that wants to kill everything like Florida does.
So, last May, here I was with coonties growing in two different places in the yard, hundreds of fresh, bright orange coontie seeds and the idea that there had to be a way to make the danged seeds grow. I found some info in the internet and eventually stumbled onto a site called the Cycad Jungle. That fellow knows more about coonties than just about anybody and he uses an enzyme to remove the shell. I called him to get some enzyme and he said to just soak them in water for a couple of days and peel the orange off with a paring knife unless I had ten thousand or so to do. Well dang. It took a couple of hours to peel the orange off fifty seeds but I got it done and I planted them in some sandy soil that I shoveled into one of those cheap, plastic pans that they sell for mixing small batches of concrete. I fastened a piece of hardware cloth over it to keep squirrels out and waited.
Nothing happened except that I grew one hell of a crop of weeds. The Cycad Jungle guy had said that it would take two or three months for them to germinate so I didn't worry when we passed the two month mark. Three months came and went and I just had bigger weeds. The Lovely Bride wanted me to dump the whole thing in the yard and try again next year. I checked it every couple of days for any sign of coontie life and there was just nothing until last Friday. I looked at the pile of weeds and there was familiar frond sticking up through the hardware cloth. I got down closer to it and saw more. I started cutting and pulling weeds so I could get the hardware cloth off the pan and see what I had and found fourteen little coontie seedlings.
Fourteen out of fifty isn't the greatest yield but it beats letting the seeds sit around forever. Come next May, I'll be at a couple of cemeteries not that far from the Suwannee River. Besides a fist full of plastic flowers from the Dollar General, I'll have a couple of paper sacks for coontie seeds. I will grow coonties from seeds off the ones my Grandfather planted seventy five years ago. We will be connected .
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Interesting Project
III
Seems like I know a fellow or two that might want to be a pioneer and that has some skills that would be needed.
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