Fifteen children, just a couple more boys than girls, white and black and Latino and Asian. The rifles were all different colors, too, including pink. The youngest child was five or so; the oldest 14. Likewise the rifles, some brand new, some much-loved heirlooms. Moms and dads at their shoulders, some children fired their first shots ever; others comfortably showed mom and dad a thing or two.
Brother Robert The K gives us a description of last Saturday’s Picnic Match. The kids shooting should give blood clots to the Antis although I don’t see the suppressed Ruger 10-22 in the pic. Last time, the kids complained that the adults were hogging the gun and refused to share it.
PS: I HATE THEE, EVIL COLD VIRUS! You made me miss my favorite match of the year. At least I am done shivering, sneezing and leaking through my nose, some cough remains.