Tickling ones funny bone!

Having Jason home is always a walk through funny bone land. He has some of the greatest stories and tells them with such relish it cracks me up.
We were talking about the various shooting that have happened around Boise over the years. This lead to our own various experiences with guns and ammo. Richard and I joined a shooting team some years ago. I was never very accurate but I did enjoy it. I think the most memorable thing that happened to me was when I shot a hole in the ceiling of the range building. Ya I know I am suppose to aim down range but I was being so careful bringing the gun slowly down that it took me a little to long and I squeezed one off into the ceiling. Richard laughed and gave me the lecture to not put my finger on the trigger until I was ready to pull it. Like I said I was never a very good shot.
Jason was telling us about the time when he and Christy were first dating and he decided to try out her Dad, Tom's, shot gun. He shot it off a couple of times but wanted to see the pattern it left. He saw an old parted out Suburban out on the side of a hill and decided to put it out of it misery. He pulled off a shot and was astounded to see no pattern so he shot again. When he went to see what was going with the ammo he discovered it was not shot that was loaded in the shot gun it was loaded with slugs. One of the shots went through the side, the frame, the wheel, and various other parts but probably the most impressive was the 1 inch hole he put through the side of an aluminium ladder her dad had stored in the back. Jason was very greatful to the fact that he was out on patrol with the Coast Gaurd when Tom got back to town. Tom kept the ladder and Jason had to use it last summer in Minnesota when he help roof the carriage house at the home of Tom.
Richard and I used to hunt when we were much younger. One of our last trips into the hills to the south of Twin Falls, Idaho I had my first experience with Richards Weatherby 270 rifle. We did not have a lot of luck early in the hunt but finally came upon a small herd. Richard got off a shot and one went down. We trappsed up the hill and started to take care of business. I got to hold binoculars, the rifle in addition to the equipment I already had with me. I did not want to stand and watch the gutting process so I made my way around the hill. Right around the small hill was the rest of the herd the one down came from. Okay I could either walk away or take a shot. I swung a rifle over my shoulder and looked through the scope. All I could see was hair so I took the shot. It was Richards rifle and I had never shot it before I was so surprised when it went off and bucked a bit more than the Remington 30 30 I was carrying. The noise surprised Richard and he came running. I gratefully did not hit anything and decided right then and there I did not want to shoot his rifle again. It is 30 years later and no I have never used it again.
When we were kids Dad used to go rabbit hunting with Loren and Louise Partin. I always wanted to be old enough to ride in the back of the old black pickup that they used to drive through the sage brush in the dark flushing out the multitude of jack rabbits that were abundant in those days. I loved the feeling of rushing through the dark in the warm air and watching the lights bounce across the sage brush coverd ground. I really don't remember the sound of the guns going off and I was never scared.
The year before Richard and I got married he asked me to go with him on a Saturday when he hunted for deer in the South Hills. We drove around much of the day with out seeing much. It was so cold and rainy I just could not get into being cold and wet. We came upon my parents and the Partin clan standing around a fire in the rain. I glanced to my right when I heard Loren hollar that he needed help. My Dad and Richard went up the hill to help him down. On the way down I noticed he had his artifical leg under his arm with the boot pointed out. Several other cars of people had to stop and look at this man with a boot encrusted leg pointing out toward them. Loren flopped that leg down across the hood of the pickup so he could fix the strap that had broken. The looks were priceless seeing a leg under an arm.
Life was fun, times were good, it moved way to fast but I would not change one thing about it. Thanks to all my sisters for who they are. To my big sis who seems to have a hard time reading what I write without getting emotional. Thank you for pulling the teeth of the big gray thing with green and orange strips and spider web design on it's back. I can always count on you!
To my littlest sis for writing things that are so much fun and can make me laugh and cry all at the same time.
To Connie the peace maker, chief cook and bottle washer. You are all my heros and I am the luckiest sister in the whole world. I have traveled many memories with all of you and I look forward to traveling even more. Thanks for the memories.