Guns, Relatives, and Beer

I spent yesterday afternoon shooting guns at things. By "things" I mean "targets and little plastic boxes".

My stepdad took me out to the shooting range in East Missoula. It is right next to the brand-new Something Golfing Community, which is pretty fancy. They have two fake waterfalls and a lot of expensive development housing. The shooting range is not so fancy. In fact it is not fancy at all. I was going to take pictures of myself wielding arms, trodding around on empty bullet shells, and looking tough, but I forgot to recharge the batteries in my camera.

Before yesterday I had only ever shot a rifle. Yesterday I tried out some other kinds of guns. A bigger rifle, a smaller rifle, a shotgun, and two pistols. My favorite was the thirty-ought-six rifle which is the biggest one and the one I was best at. Probably because I used a stand. It was my favorite even before I learned the name of it and got the Tom Waits song stuck in my head.

The best comment of the day was after I was shooting the .357 Magnum when my stepdad said "that was your grandmother's gun."

As it turns out, I am a very good shot. So I'm all ready for the Revolution to begin.

Next, we stopped by the brewery to get some growlers filled. If you are not from the wild west like me, you may not know about growlers. Or maybe you do. Do they have growlers in other regions? Please inform!

A growler is a half-gallon bottle of beer. You can bring back empties and get them filled at a brewery. My favorite brewery is the one that makes Moose Drool, but they were closed because it was Sunday so we had to go to a different brewery instead.

When we got back to the house my aunt and my cousin were there. They had just finished up a week at bagpiping camp in Coeur d'Alene. My aunt is the boss of the camp. My cousin was taking drumming classes.

Then my sister and her boyfriend showed up. They are en route from Richmond (Virginia) to some island west of Seattle where they are going to live in a cabin and work on a farm. So we all sat around and drank some beer while Jamie practiced his practical-joke handshake buzzer toy on us.

Suddenly my stepdad's cousin and his girlfriend were in town! So they came over too. It was a pizza-beer-and-relative festival. Some of us went to ride on the carousel, and some of us went to the Old Post for a pitcher of Moose Drool. Then all of us went to bed. And today, there are no more relatives at all, except me. We are having ribs tonight. My stepdad just started up the smoker and there is fresh homemade barbeque sauce in the refrigerator.

And beer!