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Fear me. *grin*. All my life I've lived around mountain men who love their guns more than life itself... yet at 48 years old, I had never shot one myself. Most of my life I hated guns just because they were always so there. And always loaded. So when I was grown and had a choice - chose to not be around them... at all. But lately I've been thinkin' that it was about time I learned this particular legacy of my father and give it a "shot". Hehehe. The first try was with a shotgun with a scope. As my aunt and uncle ducked under the table for cover... it soon became obvious that because of my bad eye, a shotgun might not be the best choice for me... by the time I got my target sighted in, they'd have had time to have a snack and read the first chapter of a book before I was ready to shoot. But never fear, my uncle had plenty of other guns for me to try.
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So there ya go. My personal stash of guns (my dad has given me several over the years) and ammo (I stocked up while I was down there) are packed away for safety - but nice to know I "could" if I ever had to. Know what I mean?
4 comments:
Good for you
I have an odd relationship with guns. I am certainly afraid of them, but fascinated at the same time.
And just a bit jealous of you with the pistol right now...
I don't particularly care for guns, but if you've got them, it's good that you know how to use them.
I love that picture of you.
I sooooo wanna be you when I grow up!
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