I don’t often brag about my shooting. It is the best way to end up being embarrassed. One day I might shoot above my current skill level, brag about it, then go out to compete and wind up leaving the course early because I’ve lost all my arrows. But, this was a shot that made me call Mama.
Mama is a spitfire. Using a push mower Mama cuts her lawn, nearly an acre, when needed she paints her house using a rickety ladder, and handles a Labrador retriever that weights nearly as much as she does. She’s my Mama and when something cool happens I enjoy letting her know. I had to call her on this shot. It earned me another lecture.
I needed to practice facing the target at a downward angle. Being lazy, I didn’t want to haul my cinder block bricks, support block, and target to a better area to accommodate my need.
Looking around I figured I’d shoot from the upstairs deck, over the lawn and driveway thus hitting the target at a downward angle. The chimney would be a bit of a problem, but I could work around it once I climbed the stairs.
The chimney was a problem. The corner of it was between any decent shot and me. Still, with effort to get into position there might be a shot. Pressing into the corner of the deck railing, leaning over it, and in that position I could see the target. The quiver and binoculars made staying in the position for more than a second or two pretty much undoable.
Stepping back, I removed all the gear, wedged back into and over the railing, braced my toes under it, making myself fairly secure. It was kind of fun so a sacrificed arrow it would be worth it. Aiming I took a shot, the distance was about 40 yards.
Two things happened. First, I didn’t fall, as such, this post. Second, the arrow hit the target. Of course, Brenda, my wife was first to learn the news and I didn’t need to tell her. After climbing off the railing there she was, arms folded, glaring out of the connected upstairs bedroom in my direction. She’d been checking I wasn’t back on the roof. Brenda has barred me from climbing on the roof and was not too pleased with the current shooting arrangement. So, Mama was next on the good shot alert list.
Mama could have cared less about the shot. She lectured me about falling. She reminded me of past accidents, etc, etc. I don’t recall much beyond the historical “accidents” reprimand; a skill picked up when I was a kid living at home (not listening, something certainly your children would never do).
I’ve also learned to keep my mouth shut and didn’t remind Mama of the time she fell while painting the ceiling in her dining room. She didn’t want to move the obstructing table and chairs. Instead, she built a structure using chairs and books on top of the table in order to reach the ceiling. Her civil engineering failed and the construction collapsed. Mama did a hit and roll, got up, and moved the table and chair replacing her scaffolding with a ladder (she was in her 70’s at the time). Genetics is a wonder.
Some shots are adventures, even if they are small slightly risky ones. Those are the shots we like to share with our family and friends. This may now jinx me on Sunday’s 3D tournament, but it was cool.