The cocking of the rifles, the marching of the feet.

Today I faintly overheard my big brother, who is visiting for the holidays, talking to my dad at the other side of the house about guns and the inevitable collapse of civilization. I think some degree of survivalism runs in our family. I wanted to experience that conversation, so I walked into the room they were in to find my dad showing my brother some of his rifles. They decided to go out and shoot his Weatherby rifle, which uses .270 Winchester cartridges, and I decided to go along.

As you might remember, this past fall, my dad and I went shooting with my cousin Patrick and his parents. This time was quite a bit different because there's snow and it's freezing out.

We shot at a target printed out on a sheet of computer printer paper, 8.5" by 11", a small image of which can be seen below.

The smaller colored circles on the target are the shots from a range of 100 yards. We each took 3 shots. My dad's shots are signified by yellow dots, my brother's are signified by blue dots, and mine are signified by red dots. My brother and I each missed the target with one of our shots, so you only see two of the small dots for each of us. I'm pretty proud of how close the ones that hit were to the center of the target.

Next we moved back to 200 yards, and my brother and I each took two shots, which are the larger colored circles on the target. Again, my brother's shots are signified in blue and mine in red. With my brother's and my shots, there seems to be a pattern in the relationship between our shots from 100 yards and 200 yards, but it's probably mostly a coincidence. Interesting nonetheless.

Firearms & Frozen Treats

I have been sick the past several days with a sore throat. I really wanted popsicles, but we didn't have any, so I had to make some Jell-O popsicles. That entry is from a little over a year ago. Anyway, I made strawberry banana ones with chunks of banana.

On the 12th my dad and I went to a shooting range with Patrick and his parents (my aunt and uncle). I've shot guns only a few times in my life. Although I very much hate the idea of hunting in this day and age, and am generally kind of weirded out by gun nuts, I am really quite interested in guns. Maybe it's the survivalist in me, but I think it's probably a good idea to know how to use a gun, just in case you ever need to use one. You never know when there's going to be a zombie outbreak, or when Skynet is going to attack, or when a group of cowboys or a biker gang is going to ride into town and start causing trouble.


I started with a .22 caliber rifle, which is the only gun I've ever shot in the past. I spent most of the time shooting .22 caliber and .357 caliber revolvers. I loved those. They made me feel like Doc Holliday or something. My dad kept saying I looked like Clint Eastwood. I was hesitant to shoot any of the semi-automatics, but I ended up shooting a 9mm Hi-Point, an AR-15, and an AK-47. I didn't really enjoy shooting the AR-15 or the AK-47 because of the recoil, but I actually liked the 9mm Hi-Point quite a bit. I wasn't a bad shot either. I was no Deadshot or Martin Riggs or anything, but I wasn't bad.

My aunt took some photos of us, but I haven't seen them yet. If and when I do, and if I like them, I'll post some here.