Silver Snipe day, anyway. I awarded custody of my late Father’s 1964 Beretta Silver Snipe, purchased with a Marine Corps re-enlistment bonus Dad got that same year.
Dad never really used the gun, I remember just a few times that he carried it, much preferring his A5, purchased when he made staff Sargent, in 1952. I have both guns.
Chris has outgrown his 20 gauge youth pump. He has outgrown most everything, stands 5ft 11 1/2” at age 13 and wears a man’s size 13 shoe. The stock will be short on the Beretta for him, at some point in time, but, for now, he can shoot it.
I awarded custody of the Beretta to him on New Years Day.
He needs practice, and some coaching. But, after a long wait for him, the temp went to 40 degrees today, and we shot a round each of trap and skeet. My eye issues are not over, but, I was happy just watching him get used to the game:
Somewhere between me holding him as a baby, trying to get him to fall asleep while “Higher Love” by Steve Winwood played, and today, he grew most of the way up. I’m trying to enjoy what is still left. He is on the honor roll in his Spanish immersion school, speaks two languages fluently, wants to learn a third, and be on the trap and skeet league when he gets to high school. He has 1 year to go. But, we will shoot buddy trap and skeet at our club this year.
Truly bad news was we were fooling around with the Mossberg .410 pump and a 28 gauge Darne after our regular rounds, shooting up the remainders of ammunition from a session of patterning each. I suggested he shoot the little 28 instead of the .410 he was using. He proceeded to demolish every pigeon he shot at with the 28.
I hope I haven’t lost possession of that one.