For the whole day, I did not see 17 doves - white winged or otherwise.
After failing to draw a bead on a bird the whole morning, we went into town for Whataburgers, then came back and got a bit of shooting in on clay pigeons.
Oldest son pulling clays for another fellow in our party.
I had elected to carry a 20 gauge (on the right)...that my Dad gave me in about '69 or '70. Somehow, the stocks went missing in the '70s (perhaps while we were in Europe), and I replaced them in the mid-'80s. To the best of my recollection, I had not fired this shotgun since then. I dropped several clay pigeons, even though no doves ever came within range.
Over the past year, it's seemed at times that oldest son and I could've written Harry Chapin's Cat's In the Cradle. Although we didn't harvest any feathered bipeds to rub with sage and jalapeño and wrap with bacon (Mmm, bacon!), it was good to spend some time afield together.
(As a side note, I think this is the first post I've made since Blogger changed its editor to a new, sucky format. I am not a fan.)
1 comment:
You had me at "Whataburgers".
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