sm
member
Click!
Older fella was focused, he smoothly mounted gun to face, moving his body as he did so, moving thru the target about the time the recoil pad hit his shoulder- Click!- and he continued swinging thru the target.
The younger fella too was focused, he too was smoothly mounting gun to face, body moving, moving thru his targets, the recoil pad touched his shoulder – Click!-shuck-Click! -and continued swinging thru his target.
“Nice pairâ€
“Thanksâ€
The two placed their shotguns in the rack on the porch, the dog waited for the screen door to be opened; the two went inside and sat at the kitchen table. The Emerson window fan blowing a gentle breeze, the two sipped tea from mason jars, the dog lapping from his water bowl.
They had just shot a 100 birds each, some as singles, some as doubles.
As the sandwiches of pickle loaf made that morning’s left over with scratch biscuits were washed down with more tea, standing at the kitchen counter peering out the window the dog jumped up , got his sandwich, went back to his spot peering out the back door.
There were no hulls on the ground, there were no broken birds. They had not worn ear plugs; they both had worn their Ray-Ban’s to protect their eyes from the sun.
“One of you boys gonna bring in my sheets before the rain gets here?â€
So the two fellas went out and brought in the sun dried sheets, noses buried in the warm fresh scent.
Younger fella went back out to retrieve the shotguns, putting them in the spot in front room , he went back out and retrieved the two 1911s, the two K frames and holsters, these he put on the newspapers on the kitchen table.
“Well you boys got in some good practiceâ€
“Yeah and for an old broad you ain’t too shabby yourself†the young one quipped with a wink.
“You flirting with my wife again?â€
“Yepâ€.
“You gonna shoot tomorrow?’
“Nope, gonna sit on the porch, and watch†the young fella said. He continued –“rather watch the geezers with their pump guns than the Big Boys with shiny toys…â€
Wife went out to sweep off the back porch, there were no brass casings, just the normal dust and dirt the little windmills churned up…
The next day while everyone was making a fuss over the RVs, getting autographs, and whatnot, the younger fella was being trained how to follow a dog on a lease. Shook hands with the geezers, shared a few laughs, flirted with a few wives and hugged a few grandkids…
“Them geezers ain’t missed yet†exclaimed a whippersnapper, wearing a Bob Allen Vest and the logo of a fancy O/U.
There was soothing rhythms to the targets being thrown, the pumping and shucking and clays being dusted.
“How in the world do they do that?â€
“Well I know more than one has a range of sorts in the back yard†replied the younger one, as he rubbed the belly of the dog.
“Must be nice to be that rich†he said as he walked off…
Younger fella and the dog just grinning…
So four geezers ran straights with their pump guns, they had decided to shoot the 28 gauges. So while they sipped their Royal Crowns and visited with folks the Big Boys were gonna show folks how to shoot.
I guess they did, that is what they said they were gonna do.
Geezers, wives, grandkids and me, we were sitting in a whitewashed building, waiting for the BBQ to be served. The plate of fried apple pies had been brought to our table, the peach ones on the other table. One always staked claim to these pies before they ran out...
Old broad slapd my hand as I picked off a corner of one pie…
“You flirting with my wife againâ€
“Yepâ€
Older fella was focused, he smoothly mounted gun to face, moving his body as he did so, moving thru the target about the time the recoil pad hit his shoulder- Click!- and he continued swinging thru the target.
The younger fella too was focused, he too was smoothly mounting gun to face, body moving, moving thru his targets, the recoil pad touched his shoulder – Click!-shuck-Click! -and continued swinging thru his target.
“Nice pairâ€
“Thanksâ€
The two placed their shotguns in the rack on the porch, the dog waited for the screen door to be opened; the two went inside and sat at the kitchen table. The Emerson window fan blowing a gentle breeze, the two sipped tea from mason jars, the dog lapping from his water bowl.
They had just shot a 100 birds each, some as singles, some as doubles.
As the sandwiches of pickle loaf made that morning’s left over with scratch biscuits were washed down with more tea, standing at the kitchen counter peering out the window the dog jumped up , got his sandwich, went back to his spot peering out the back door.
There were no hulls on the ground, there were no broken birds. They had not worn ear plugs; they both had worn their Ray-Ban’s to protect their eyes from the sun.
“One of you boys gonna bring in my sheets before the rain gets here?â€
So the two fellas went out and brought in the sun dried sheets, noses buried in the warm fresh scent.
Younger fella went back out to retrieve the shotguns, putting them in the spot in front room , he went back out and retrieved the two 1911s, the two K frames and holsters, these he put on the newspapers on the kitchen table.
“Well you boys got in some good practiceâ€
“Yeah and for an old broad you ain’t too shabby yourself†the young one quipped with a wink.
“You flirting with my wife again?â€
“Yepâ€.
“You gonna shoot tomorrow?’
“Nope, gonna sit on the porch, and watch†the young fella said. He continued –“rather watch the geezers with their pump guns than the Big Boys with shiny toys…â€
Wife went out to sweep off the back porch, there were no brass casings, just the normal dust and dirt the little windmills churned up…
The next day while everyone was making a fuss over the RVs, getting autographs, and whatnot, the younger fella was being trained how to follow a dog on a lease. Shook hands with the geezers, shared a few laughs, flirted with a few wives and hugged a few grandkids…
“Them geezers ain’t missed yet†exclaimed a whippersnapper, wearing a Bob Allen Vest and the logo of a fancy O/U.
There was soothing rhythms to the targets being thrown, the pumping and shucking and clays being dusted.
“How in the world do they do that?â€
“Well I know more than one has a range of sorts in the back yard†replied the younger one, as he rubbed the belly of the dog.
“Must be nice to be that rich†he said as he walked off…
Younger fella and the dog just grinning…
So four geezers ran straights with their pump guns, they had decided to shoot the 28 gauges. So while they sipped their Royal Crowns and visited with folks the Big Boys were gonna show folks how to shoot.
I guess they did, that is what they said they were gonna do.
Geezers, wives, grandkids and me, we were sitting in a whitewashed building, waiting for the BBQ to be served. The plate of fried apple pies had been brought to our table, the peach ones on the other table. One always staked claim to these pies before they ran out...
Old broad slapd my hand as I picked off a corner of one pie…
“You flirting with my wife againâ€
“Yepâ€
