Saturday, May 30, 2009

What a Plinker!

You know what they say, "Practice makes perfect", and I guess that's as true of shooting as anything else, so I like to keep my skills up - well, get some even, by going out in the field to plink about at targets. Mostly I drive to  my Treasurer's ranch and shoot up against hay bales - its good to visit with him (a fund of wisdom and kindness) then move off to get some targets.

The problem is, its not cheap. Taking any large caliber weapon out for pratice costs money and, for me, lots of it - that's if you can even get the ammo, which isn't easy. Very frustrating, leading innevitably to... the .22. Cheap, fun and it keeps your aim in.

With that in mind, I prefer company and get it sometimes in the bearded form of GWB, who tested his semi-auto Browning Takedown out on the feed sacks to good success. I love the Browning; elegant, pretty accurate and the first rifle I ever shot, with my Uncle on some land around Denton in the '70s. Anyway, you can see one leaning up against the tail gate of the truck. I tried out a pawn shop special, a bolt action JC Higgins, and the results were good; vastly dead Remington ammo carton and several Quarters who came up against me on sticks. Great enjoyment.

Moral of the story? Don't scorn the humble .22. Bolt action or semi? Both are good.

Have a blessed Feast of Pentecost.


Friday, May 29, 2009

Hoof Junky

The outside of a horse is good for the inside of a man

Winston Churchill

I've discovered that's true, but only because a strange and lets face it, terrifying confluence of aspects, spat me out of Canada and into rural Texas, where I minister to two country missions in the Anglican Diocese of Fort Worth. What does that mean? Amongst other things, that I'm a shameless Trad - liberal humanism masquerading as christianity doesn't cut it for me - and...

that I get to ride horses. Now this is something I always wanted to do and somehow never did until I noticed the odd parishioner turning up for Mass in working boots and spurs - right out of the stables and into church on a Sunday morning. 'Result,' as SBW (Suburban Bushwacker) used to say. So one thing led to another and before too long I'm in the stables talking God, Guns, Church and learning to post under the watchful eye of equine professionals.

Nothing better; perhaps its Texas, perhaps its the horse itself, but I find there's a freedom in it which I know I wasn't finding in the city. Its practical too - when the gas runs out I'll have transport. And that's what this blog's about, reflections on some of the home truths and simple pleasures of being a country priest in the Lone Star State. 

Oh, if you need a Ferrier, check out Coty at , you can see him at work above, shoeing BeBop and dispensing wisdom.

God bless,