Monday, September 15, 2008
relax, dear readers, my boy is not on the rampage. this is a picture of him shooting (or more accurately trying to shoot) clay pigeons. don't ask me what a clay pigeon is. the whole concept is beyond me. how would anything made of clay be able to fly? i know the pigeon is not the most elegant of our feathered friends but they do manage a certain degree of altitude. perhaps the clay ones don't get out much. come to think of it i have seen china ducks on people's walls...
anyway, there i go again drifting off the point. as regular readers will know, my boy is mad on guns. he draws them, collects model ones and turns any object you like to mention into one (pogo sticks, scooters, lego, you name it, he has made a gun out of it). so when herself saw a kind offer by one of her cyberfriends to come for a mornings clay pigeon shooting she was there like a, well, shot.
young dave and i were not invited. while dave is clearly a fellow of tender years and might be startled by the gunshots, i rather hankered after my poaching days and tried to wheedle her into secreting me into her bag so i could tag along. however, when she explained that there would be no deer or even rabbits to fetch and that no animal would be harmed all morning, i turned over and went back to sleep.
when they returned my boy was brimming over with excitement. he had a pile of cartridges in a variety of colours as well as a small orange disc made of bitumen, which he told me was a clay pigeon. i have to say it bore no resemblance to any pigeon i had ever seen. no wonder they aren't breeding much.
my boy is over the moon at having discovered a way of learning to shoot which does not involve neighbour nuisance and an asbo nor killing furry animals. they plan to go again in a month. and my boy is desperate to earn money to pay for it. which suits herself down to the ground as she has a gravel moving job for him...