Pencil on Bristol board
I told myself that this year was all about new experiences, and so far I’ve stuck to my guns and tried new stuff. So, when a week ago, a friend asked if I wanted to go clay pigeon shooting I said yes.
This morning I donned a pair of jeans and a floaty top (I didn’t put much thought into the top, which in hindsight was a mistake). One pair of boots and I jumped in the car to go around the corner for some shooting. And it really is around the corner… Ten minutes later I pulled into a farm track and carried on driving up a hill. Parking halfway, I walked the rest.
My initial impression was simple, a complete state of confusion. I could see the clay thingies, they are bright orange and the machine is massive. But as to the two cages in the field, I really didn’t have the foggiest idea.
We were taken through the safety procedure and I found out that I have a right master eye. It was this point I should have said I had a squint. I should have butted in and just blurted out that when looking at really far, tiny objects my vision can go blurry. But I got hit by a fit of shyness so I kept quiet.
It was my chance to have a go (you stand in the cage to shoot, making sure you only hit the clay and not any people or cows). So I took the stance I was told and took the shot.
“Ow…” I say.
I missed the clay… Which hadn’t surprised me because I was a little concerned about which clay I was shooting at, there being two…
There wasn’t really two, my eyes were doing their thing again and I had no idea what to do.
I had another go… Another ouch and no shattered clay.
Why the ouch? Well, that has got everything to do with the recoil. Man those guns can have a kick.
We stopped for a break and the two instructors where looking at me a little peculiarly…
“Your stance is good, and you are following the clay…” one said.
So I explained the squint.
“Close your left eye.”
“But that’s my good eye,” I exclaimed.
“Just do it…”
So I did… And guess what… I hit a clay. In fact, I hit more than one.
I really enjoyed it, so much so I think I might take it up. Although I am going to need a gun with a shock absorbing stock, and maybe an automatic… Not sure yet.
So, there is another new experience and another one that I have loved. Just brilliant. :)
Oh, and the top problem? Well, it’s a lovely floaty number with a dimpled texture, which with every recoil of the gun rubbed my shoulder. So not only do I have a bruise but I also have a graze… Yay… Why didn’t I put on the cotton t-shirt? Oh, that’s right… I was trying to look smart.
I should have just gone in jeans and my minion t-shirt. Who care if you look smart shooting clay discs in a field. (I’m rolling my eyes at the moment. Sometimes I can be daft).
Except it wasn’t really… I mean I finished ‘The Gone’ and then I dithered. In fact I’ve been dithering for over a week. I haven’t been lazy, I’ve edited ‘The Gone’, ‘Truth and Lies’ and ‘Here be Dragons’ (that’s a middle grade book for kids).
But new projects have been stuck. I have a pile of books and novellas waiting to be written. But nothing was happening. I tried but there was no spark. It was like getting blood from a stone.
Then today it happened. I came back from shopping, sat at the computer, opened a word document and started writing…
A thousand words in half an hour!
I hit save and the power went.
No, I’m not joking… In a second I was looking at a blank screen. According to the power company a high voltage thingy blew and knocked out everything.
Don’t worry! I thought. One Drive will have saved the work… Except that broadband was out. Something had happened in Manchester and most of Wales was without the internet.
So, now everything is working again:
1000 words + no broadband + no power = 600 words
Somewhere there are the extra 400 words. Luckily though the writing bug has got me and I’m sure it won’t take long to make it up. Still, I’m growling just a little.
My computer has gone rainbow multicoloured. Even my Facebook profile has a rainbow filter, and it just makes me smile. Now more people can love with no worry of recrimination. Well, at least in 50 states. And that makes me smile.
I went to the hospital yesterday to get a scan and luckily everything is in the right place and working. That makes me smile.
I do not have celiacs disease, which was a possibility as I’m anemic again, which really makes me smile. I can’t do without my bread…
I have two books that I’m waiting for the hard copy to proof-read; ‘The Gone’ and ‘Truth and Lies’. I’m smiling about that.
My sister is getting married in two week, and that makes me smile.
And the vegetables are growing, although I have a pea problem, and that makes me smile.
So, all in all, I’m in a good mood. In fact I’m in a great mood. Smiling all the way. Sure there are bad things, but overall, it is good. The world for me is rainbow coloured.
I have been drawing, but on the quiet…
Living a double life. On the one side I draw animals and horses and, on the other, I draw people. But not just any people… I draw beauty.
Basically, I am an erotic artist.
There, I said it, judge me all you want! I draw people in beautiful poses. Or at least what I see as beautiful…
I like to draw extreme poses and gymnastic contortions.
So I have wanted to make both of my art styles co-exist. I’m tired of hiding the erotica (although only loosely erotica). So here is the main gallery, and my etsy shop. Please go have a look and let me know what you think.
Visitors – they have walked into a trap… The next part of The Gone. #thegone #amwriting
Originally posted on The Gone:
I freeze and Duke gives a low bark and a growl. Conor comes over to me and slips a hand into mine. Max goes to the door and slowly opens it.
“Yes?” he says.
I can’t see the person on the other side but I can hear them.
“You are the ones that the military are looking for,” the person says. He sounds like a middle-aged male, and he smells human.
Max pauses and then nods.
“We will tell them but only after you leave. They say that you are like the zombies but you aren’t. You have a child and a dog.”
Max raises an eyebrow. “We do.”
“So we are letting you leave.”
“This is a trap?” Max asks.
“Yes, but not for you,” the voice sounds almost panicky. “It’s to find other survivors.”
Max nods. “We will leave soon. Can you tell them we are on foot?”
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Man’s best friend. Bitsy feels like she has walked into a trap… #thegone #amwriting
Originally posted on The Gone:
The scream dies leaving an intense silence. The dog has lunged forward but not to attack, instead he is planting puppy kisses all over Conor.
“What is it?” I ask.
The mutt is large, easily the size of a Rottweiler but he is covered in a thick mat of hair. His tail is a bushy creation and he seems to have a mane. He is mostly black and tan but there is a flash of white under his chin and on his chest. He is beautiful but very big.
“Some sort of large dog,” Max says.
He steps toward Conor and the dog gives a low growl. He stops.
“Conor, does he have a collar?” I ask.
“I’ll look,” comes the reply and I can hear the smile in his voice.
Max walks up to me and whispers in my ear. “Guess we have found a dog…”
“Yeah,” I say…
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