This Tamara, of course.
Alas, I truly fear there is no hope for me.
I was in JROTC in high school. Highlight of the first year was gun quals. The only other guy not to qualify for his marksmanship medal got kicked out of the range for firing before the command was given. Even my squad leader, who shot the clothespin off the target one lane over got his medal.
My father tried to teach me. Looking back, it probably wasn't the brightest idea to try to learn marksmanship with a .45 from a drunkard, but the damage to my confidence has already been done.
And yet I am a sucker for a submariner with an M-60.
My estranged husband is a sharpshooter, naturally.
Pray the kids take after him. In that. Not in anything else. (His keeping to his wedding vows skills frankly suck.)
4 comments:
Being Tamara isn't all its cracked up to be.
The guns are a neat side benefit, though. :)
Sabra, if you are ever down my way, (Corpus) let me know. I'll break out the guns and take you shoting.
heck Sabra, go to either www.thefiringline.com or www.thehighroad.org, and post that you're a single mother in Texas wishing to learn to shoot. You'll get a FLOOD of offers.
I'd make the offer, but I don't think you want to drive to Wisconsin for lessons... ;)
Hey Sabra,
I'm only about an hour away (depending on what part of S.A. you live in). Despite my internationally (un)reknown pistol sniper status, I dunno how great of a teacher I might be, and I'm gonna go ahead and pretty much definitively declare that I have nowhere near the collection of others (coughcougmTAMcoughcough), but if you want to go brutalize some innocent paper sometime, give me a holler...
p.s. You know, I suspect that even really good shooters had to start somewhere, sometime.
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