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Guns and family

I took a great workshop with author Christina Baker Kline a couple of weeks ago.  One of the writing exercises that we did was to write about one item.  Just free write for five minutes.  It is rough, but here is what I wrote:

    Grampa handed it to me with pride.  He couldnt see well enough to use it and I had proven myself to be able to carry on the tradition.  It is a pound and a half heavier than Dad's and I had the stock cut to fit me.  It is because of that modification that I joke that I had to marry my husband.  Like a lock and key, the half moon scare above his right eye matches the curve of my scope. 

    Grampa said that it was the scope that made him buy it, "I held it up and it was spot on" he says every time he talks about it. I actually dont know if he ever shot anything with it.  He must have.  I prefer Dad's.  All 7.5lbs of it.  It is exactly one pound heavier than my son when he was born. It's the gun I learned to hunt with, the one that I shot my first deer with and the gun that I used when I sat alone in the woods, up in the tree without Dad as my backup, when I shot my 10 pointer. 

    It is the gun and the stories that go along with it that my son will inherit when the time comes.

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