Guns on a homestead.
What's better than a sunny, warm, lazy Sunday afternoon?
Nothing. I'll answer that question for you.
To fully maximize the magnificence of this afternoon, we took a stroll with our friends Jason and Leena through God's country. Actually, it wasn't a stroll per-say. It was a short car ride up into the hills.
To do this:
Ah ya, baby.
Being as prepared as normal, I forgot to put shoes on my poor baby.
Aileen was rockin' her Converse. I dig that.
She also shot clays for this first time - I dig that too! If it's a hobby you've never tried, might I encourage you to try it? There is hardly a better way to spend an afternoon. Unless, of course, your making lacto-fermented carrots or baking bread or something...
I shot 90%! That means that for every ten clay pigeons, I hit nine!
Okay. That didn't happen. Had ya goin' there for a sec, didn't I? I must admit, I'm a lil rusty. But after I shake off the dust of winter, I'll be right back in that shootin' saddle.
In all seriousness, or as much seriousness as I can muster at this moment, I do think it is absolutely important for every woman to know how to safely handle, load, shoot, and unload a gun. Guns are the most dangerous when you don't know how to handle them properly - it is very empowering and responsible to learn how to use a gun before the need for one should arise (which it hopefully never does!). My 12 gauge is by my bed each night and both of our .357 revolvers are tucked in my night stand. So should you decide to break into a home, might I suggest you choose a different one. Thank you for your cooperation.
I hope that I never have to use them (on a person that is). But on a homestead, where there is fresh grown lettuce and dehydrating herbs on the porch to protect, you just can never be too careful - now can you?
There may be coyotes in your chicken pen.
Or coyotes harassing a weak calf.
Or coyotes terrorizing your dog.
(Them are pesky critters around here!)
Or a fox stealin' your eggs.
Or a rattlesnake in your garden.
Or a thief.
Or a robber.
Or a pesky neighbor.
That last one was a joke.
Are there any other clay-pigeon-shooting, revolver-loving, holster-wearin', John-Wayne-lovin' women out there?
I thought so.