Giblets ain't just for making gravy.

Sir D and I went last night to do our qualifying on the range. We already passed the written portion of the CHL classes, and all that was left was the shooting portion. I must say I was a bit nervous. I knew I could hit the target enough times to acquire the points needed to pass, but I was unsure if I could do it while The Rangemaster guy was yelling out instructions and looking over my shoulder. I don’t do well under pressure.

When we got there we were planning to do one more round of practice and then take the test. The Rangemaster said not to do that, our hands would get tired, just to do the test. “You’re either ready or you’re not.” Words of wisdom from The Rangemaster.

So we did it.

I was a bit nervous at first, but The Rangemaster was very nice and even gave me some tips when he saw my aim was heading south (literally) and it pulled it right back up.

In the end, I scored a 246 out of a possible 250. All 50 rounds hit the target and only one went really low on the target. That was the first shot at 15 yards, the farthest point you have to shoot.

I was really proud of myself and the guys at the range were joking about wondering how I’d do when I wasn’t nervous.

Sir D also did very well. He scored 3 points less than me. I felt a little bad for him because the guys at the range wouldn’t let him forget he’d been beaten by a girl. In fact, I believe The Rangemaster said that if we ever find out selves in a situation where we need to pull the weapon, he should hand it to me and he should be the one calling 911. Sir D handled it well, was very happy for my success, and reminded me he was qualifying with a type of gun he’d never shot before. Surely that was worth three points.

And on a much more refined and intellectual note, my sister, niece, cousin, aunt and myself are going to see the Tut exhibit tomorrow. I am really looking forward to it. We’re making a weekend of it. My aunt is coming to get me around noon and we are going to lunch and shopping then to a hotel near the museum. Then we’ll meet up with my sister, cousin and niece for a day of Tutting and a nice dinner out with the men in attendance after. Odd that the men were only interested in the meal and not the museum. Hummm?

I am looking forward to this weekend. After spending all this time at the gun range, I feel I need a little edification lest I start chewing, cussing and/or using words like ‘giblets’ when referring to where my low shot bullet would have hit an actual person.

Ahem.

I need some culture.