The horse greeted us. He's a future asset.
We three unloaded our gear and set to our task; a simple but necessary little job. Afterwards ShooterSteve assembled a small table he'd donated to the group for the bunkhouse.
The silence of the countryside was, at least to me, a peaceful and welcome change from the constant noise of the city. I remember Duke quietly commented, "I'd move here if possible."
Moments later he took broom in hand and began to sweep the deck. The pines dump tons of needles and twigs between our visits.
The Boar's Nest now has power, and behold, lights.
Above, one of two pieces Duke brought along to wring out. Number two below.
I set them atop my ammo can for the snapshot. Now, for bonus points, whom among you can tell me which is the oldest. If you guess, give me the years of manufacture. The winner gets an all expense trip to our shooting range courtesy of Duke. (if you believe me I have a bridge for sale.)
We compared weapons, spoke of friends and times past. Listened to an owl and the wind sing and enjoyed each the others company. I took a seat in the shade and watched two of my best friends and felt very privileged to have another chance to share such a fine day. They always make me smile. Below I, by accident, captured a silhouette of my best friend, Duke, as he examines an old rifle found by ShooterSteve.
Above, Duke decides to shoot a wild charging target stick. He did hit it. Later he took this same handgun, placed it on a rolled towel as a rest, and put six shots into one tiny spot on his target. The old revolver proved quite accurate.
At Noon our friend, Senior Chief, released from duty by his lovely wife, JUGM, joined the fun. He arrived to find me gone. I had duties at home too. And, truth be known, I haven't regained all my strength. I hate weakness. Still, it was a nice day.
I came home to this:
Taken a few minutes after I arrived. If anyone has questions why we train and prep as hard as we do, there in deep sleep, is your answer...
Have a great day.
Stephen
