As much as it pains me to spend ammo, I spent a few hours yesterday at the range with my son. I almost never go to the Big City without coming home with more ammo; this time I came back with less. Ouch! But I'll be OK.
A while back I inherited a tiny rolling block .22 rifle that was my grandfather's. It's a J. Stevens Little Scout 14 ½. I had never shot it before. Until yesterday. I had to make a new front sight to replace the one that was missing when I got it, but it was right on-target. The only issue I had was that it doesn't like ejecting cartridges. Its extractor pulls them out but doesn't fling them because they stick. I had to use multitool pliers to get them the rest of the way out. I may do a little chamber polishing and see if that helps.
I also shot my carry guns and my scary black Sport Utility Rifle and a .22 revolver. It was a needed break and a useful way to spend a few hours. I always enjoy seeing other families out there practicing, too. It warms the heart.
I may have missed Paratus (Paratus Day?) due to an unpleasant previous engagement, but better late than never.
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