Grandpa and Guns

Yesterday I told you about fishing in Texas. Nothing beats fishing in the summer time deep in Texas country.

Sipping cold beer, silently casting into ponds with less than a care on the mind. It is simple. It is real.

But honestly what would be a trip to the country without shooting guns? Seriously folks.

We like to play.

This is CBS, J's older sister, the only other sibling. She has amazing red hair, the prettiest hair around. Her style is pretty much top notch. She is a straight shooter.

Meet Mama Bets. I love her to pieces. Yep, I love this lady. I am so glad that she is my family, family that is way too far away.

I was a little nervous to fire this little sucker. Focus.... steady.... fire!

See that little man behind me? He is always up to something. As we are shooting at this big piece of wood that J set up for us in a dry pond, Ralph sets up his own target. It is a small tear of paper dangling in the weeds.

Dead ringer. What more would expect from a generally sharp shooting man that celebrated his 90th birthday a few years ago? Seriously.

Meet J's grandpa, Ralph. Bubba Billy's dad. Together they still have a head of cattle (is that what it is called? head?) at the Triple S Ranch and work them together. Ralph gets out, tends fences, customizes his "mule" with horns and mirrors and has several farm dogs that faithfully follow him everywhere.

The steering wheel, yes that is a custom job.

My favorite farm dog, Hank. Sweet stinky Hank. Hank limps, Hank has a harder time walking than Ralph does. Ralph still gets around.

 Looking sharp for dinner.

I am pretty sure this is what J is going to look like in 60 years. I am totally okay with that.