Growing up, preparations for opening day began as soon as Henry Horton opened the skeet range for the summer season. Our whole family would pile up at least once a weekend and away we would head. We would always pray we could get down on the end, where there was a little bit of shade and the picnic tables. Mom was the official scorer and puller and Dad was the coach. Sis and I would try are best to beat one another, because beating Dad was just unattainable. But honestly, what we loved the most, was showing off to all of the guys that wondered what "those girls" were doing there. And we would generally set them straight in a matter of about two stations.
After a few months of practicing, the day would finally get here and we could go try our luck at the real thing. Dad would always make sure that Sis and I had the best spots on the field. He would generally sit with one us, normally me because I was the youngest. It never failed, that if one of us fired the gun, we killed it (even though she and I both knew that he really had). That's what it was all about for him; watching the excitement that Sis and I got from the hunt.
Nowadays, I don't get to skeet shoot much and I generally only hunt about once or twice a season, but I still mark it on my calendar each year. It's almost as important as including all the family birthdays on the calendar. Another change is my usual hunting companion, it's gone from my #1 man (Dad), to my second "oldest" hunting buddy, my hubby. Rooster and I started dove hunting together long before we ever started dating. It sort of became a tradition of ours. Sometimes it was the only time of year we saw each other. And now, instead of Dad always telling us the birds were ours, Rooster and I fight over whose they are because it is a "serious" competition between us. Until the last couple of years, he had NEVER out shot me on the dove field and I took great pride in that. I think it finally got on his nerves enough and lately he has been wearing me out. (I know he did today.)
For me, the fun in showing the guys how it's done hasn't changed a bit. (I overhead some old man today making comments to Rooster about "how good a shot I was"). I walk away from it knowing that I've made Daddy proud (even if he's not there) and I know that Rooster loves it that the guys all talk about his girl. (Even though he'll never admit it.) But the best part of it, hands down, is the time I get to spend with the men I love most, doing something that's a little different than normal. I really do hope that God will bless us with a little girl, so Rooster can fully understand what I've gotten to do all these years with Daddy.
Here's a group picture from our hunt in Kentucky today. We went with our good friends the Wilson's. We'll be having our annual shoot at Timmy's farm next Saturday.
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