It's Friday evening, and I'm worn out, faithful readers. I'm worn out from last night. No, I wasn't out prematurely celebrating St. Patrick's Day; I was at a friend's home out in the country shooting part of his arsenal. It rocked.
The backyard was acres away from any other home, so nobody was in danger of being caught in any friendly fire. He set up a refrigerator box in the back yard, and had a wooden bullseye target propped up a few feet away from the box for us to shoot. The main reason for the trip out to his home in southern Indiana was to get familiar with the area because he's going to take me hunting for wild turkey next month. Yes, Puddin is going hunting.
He had a gun for every occasion set out for me to try. First of all, I tried his 32 caliber semi-automatic pistol. Then we went down a step to his .22 mm semi-automatic pistol. Then we started going up. First to two different 9 mm semi-autos, and then to a gigantic 480 caliber revolver that looked like you could take bear hunting. I have to say that using one of his 9's made me giddy inside. I'll admit I was hesitant to try his huge 480 that was about two feet long, but he wouldn't hear of me wussing out. I'm not ashamed to admit that it took both hands and all of my strength just to keep the thing level. Then we went on to the gauge. He loaded up the 20 gauge shotgun that he bought for his son, and then gave me some pointers on how to shoot it. He made sure my stance and my shoulder was just right so it wouldn't kick back too much and then I let her rip. Let me say that the sound of the shell going into the chamber when you pump it was one of the most amazing sounds I've ever heard. I did pretty darned good with the shotgun, too. On my third shot, I hit the wooden target dead center and knocked it down. Not bad for a quasi-city girl.
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