Just back on nights. Two weeks off, they say, it didn’t seem like it, it never does. Tch tch. Must be an age thing. That or being drunk for 14 days in a row compresses time a tadge. I jest of course. You can’t compress time………or can you, Einstein? Crikey, we got deep pretty quickly didn’t we. Move on , move on.
News from Oz is good. When I say good, it’s perhaps not that so much as ‘better’. Bro’s had a bit of a bucketfull lately and he’s not been too good at all. Today though, there was a glimmer or two of the old lad I know and love, it was good, very good, to see.
Dusted off the old Berreta 682 and a case or two of Rottweil Super Sport yesterday and ventured to the leafy and pastural landscape of Greenfields at Sturry. It’s a clay club. A large one, well equipped and beautifully located. Sometimes though, patronised by folks what are a little too up themselves. No such issues yesterday thankfully, it was a real pleasure. The first stand seemed a little daunting, overlooked by 8 very ‘criticalbutamiable’ co-firestick shooters and comprising two very high fast crossers it seemed that my first clay venture for 2 years wouldn’t be very competent or impressive. Fortunately the God of overweight ex mariners was keeping an eye out and I got 8 out of 10. Hooray. The next stand, not so good, wobbly lopping descenders at 35 metres, just 1 out of 10. Hey, that’s ‘sporting’, low scores are the norm, especially when I’m involved. Once this two week shift is over I’ll venture back up the M2 to Kingsferry on the Isle of Sheppey. They’ve got a large Skeet layout there, my fave discipline. You have to use non toxic shot there (no lead allowed) cos it’s on wetlands and some folk moan that the low sectional density of the shot makes it hard (ooh madam). Allatsea disagrees with them on that one. He prefers steel/iron shot, it’s cheaper for a start and you get that nice warm sanctimonious feeling by being that little bit greener than other folks. It works for him anyway.
Over theyears folks visiting this site will have read about Drunkynunky. The family alcoholic uncle. Nice when sober, arsehole when drunk. Sad but true.
Two years ago, unable to deal with him living at home any longer, a house was bought and in it he was firmly put. That move has cost us many sleepless, soul searching nights and much emotional hand wringing. It seemed like a very hard and unpleasant thing to do. Today he told us (when sober) that he was happier than he’d ever been in his life. Having his own space after 72 years of living with other family members and / or friends, seems, at last, to have worked. It’s a momentus day.
Thankyou lord of overweight mariners and alcoholics.