It is the first Saturday of June, and, consequently, the day of Cotswold Shooting Ground's monthly shoot. Bubbles had pinged me earlier in the week, to remind me, so I ordered some cartridges and put it in my diary.
I must admit that I have become less keen on going clay shooting in recent months. I still enjoy the challenge, but the group dynamic has changed. Little Miss Sunshine* is now a regular attendee, along with a variety of randoms. The larger group has a different vibe, and seems to lack the intimacy and leg-pulling that I enjoyed, along with the challenge of actually hitting a few clays.**
I've previously mentioned that our relationship with Bubbles and Bobbyn is nowhere near as close as it was, and that seemed apparent this afternoon. It is not the easiest thing to maintain a conversation when you're clay shooting. It is noisy, you're wearing ear defenders, and your attention is wholly focussed on hitting clays at regular intervals. However, it is usually possible to have a chat between stands and find out the latest news.
During our round, I attempted to chat with B, B & B,*** and they happily responded to my conversational gambits, but I got nothing in return. None of them enquired about what I had been up to, since I last saw them.**** I may be being over sensitive, but I came away with a definite sense that we are drifting further apart.
The fishing season resumes in a couple of weeks, so let's see if an evening angling on the Avon has a different vibe.
So, that was my afternoon shooting, but I did achieve a few other things too.
In the morning 30% and I hitched the trailer to the car and headed down in to the village to collect a pallet that was going spare.
I also need to be able to fasten the right hand gate in its open position, so it isn't able swing in to the car, or motorcycle, when driving through the entrance. The simplest solution is to install a short post at the edge of the drive, and use a hook and eye to hold the gate open. I had a wander around the carport and came across a 4' long post that was about 3" square. I picked it up and it was very heavy. It was far too dense to be softwood, so was likely to be a nice hardwood post ... perfect for my needs. I took it in to the workshop and cut a chamfer on the top, to shed the rain. As the freshly sawn wood was exposed, I realised that I had found a lovely post. It is deep red and fine grained, and most likely an exotic hardwood. It'll look superb, once it is cleaned up, planed and installed.
The only other news for today was that it was bloody chilly, and we actually lit the log burner for a few hours this evening.
Here endeth Saturday's Journal entry.
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* Bobbyn, Bubbles wife. Please note that her alias is liberally coated with sticky sarcasm
** I actually shot reasonably well, for me, and finished on a score of 48/80 (60%)
*** Bubbles, Bobbyn and Ben
**** Back at the beginning of April, as I was unable to attend the May shoot
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