Or in the evening as the case may be.
Growing up with my Dad meant you starting shooting cans in the desert as soon as you could reliably hold the firearm. And if you happened to be a tomboy sort you were all the more welcome on those shooting expeditions. I still remember the first time I got to shoot a .45, it was better than the dance I never got invited to, who needed that mushy crap anyway?
Dad gave me my first rifle when I turned 16. I still have it and can shoot a squirrel out of a tree at 25 yards. A year or so ago I re-discovered how much I liked to shoot but the last year has been sort of traumatic, dramatic and too damned busy so I haven't had a chance to get back into it.
Tonight I started a Basic Marksmanship class at the local shooting range. I loved every minute of it. Except for military shooting I don't have much experience with indoor ranges so I took the class to learn the rules and protocol. I found that the people there are very nice. I love the concept of shooting, the precision, control and concentration needed to be good. I also like the idea of competing against both myself and others. This is going to be fun.
(And ladies, the place is crawling with men.)
Full moon tonight, the goddess shines, peaceful dreams to you.