This article appeared in the March/April 2004, #168 and was written by Debbie Blythen, of Northland, New Zealand.
It’s all fine and dandy. You have a partner who is the bees knees and you have him all to yourself. Life is going along well until one day your Uncle introduces your new man to “THE DEERSTALKERS ASSOCIATION.” The next thing you know you become a shooting widow, but hey it’s only once a month and you get to spend this day catching up with your Mum and Dad. He also has something else to occupy him so it doesn’t seem that bad.
But what do you know, he starts getting quite interested in this new hobby. He’s been a shooter from the time he could hold a gun up, but this new idea of actual competition target shooting captures his imagination, and his competitive spirit. It’s still not so bad. A few changes to guns, selling this, buying that. Hey what’s the harm in this hobby. And then it strikes, THE RELOAD-ING BUG! We invest in some gear, but alas someone else starts talking at the range and low and behold we get hit by a second bug, CAST BULLET MAKING! Now this has to be the ultimate bug to end all bugs. Any other bug is chicken feed compared to this bug. We invest in some more gear! Two incomes can cope alright with these hobbies, but when you add three children to the equation and only one income it becomes a different story. So we sell the prized shotgun but he thinks that it’s worth it because, hey, Duck Shooting now does not hold the same appeal as before.
He dreams in terms of casting, casting and more casting. He disappears into his cave for more casting but again, hey, we can cope with this. What I can’t cope with is this: The darling goes of to a shoot with wishes of “have a brilliant day darling.” I stay at home with the children and that’s nice too. We expect him home at a fairly decent time having had a brilliant day with the lads, shooting, yarning and coming home relaxed and ready for another week at the workplace and happy to see us after this absence. BUT, and this is a big BUT, what do we get — a husband who is not worth letting in the door.
Now if I have a day out by myself I come home ready to embrace the family and the life I love to the max. But no, after a day shooting with, you guessed it, CAST BULLETS, we have a very, to put it mildly, annoyed and disgruntled man, who some would say is bordering on the obsessive, who can not find one thing to be happy about in his day. You guessed it, the cast bullets are not shooting right and after quite a few and I mean quite a few, changes of loads, velocities, powders, wheel weights, gas checks, groups sizes, cases, moulds, dies and all the other jargon that goes with cast bullet making, not to mention the numerous trips to his brother’s place for a try of a new solution, we still come home from shoots with the “I give up” attitude.
But alas, we don’t, do we? Give up I mean! How many years can this go on, I ask you? As many as it takes, so that the whole idea doesn’t get the better of him. One bonus I suppose is that he does have a hobby, but finding the fine line is difficult. The rainbow at the end of this whole saga is that finally he has come up with his own theories, quite ground breaking ideas, and can now save some other poor wife or partner from having a man come home from the range with an attitude problem instead of an “I’ve had a brilliant day, thanks” attitude.
The other thing that has struck me is his ability to recall at the drop of a hat untold figures and numerous other useless information, but ask him to remember to get some milk on the way back from the range and what do we get? You guessed it — nothing! Strange that, not sure if this is a Male thing or a Shooters thing.
We go on to new challenges (as obsessive characters do). Now we are starting on a new journey into the unknown (thanks Dave of The Far North!) of Copper Bullet Swaging, but hopefully with all our extensive and prior knowledge this won’t be as big a learning curve as in previous times. Hopefully it won’t take as many trips and sleepless nights (no not for the reason of getting up to the baby), or as much wheeling and dealing of goods, or as much cave-time and no long faced attitude as the Cast Bullet Bug created. He does still have traces of the Bug in his blood but it seems to have deviated to the side for now till the new Swaging gear arrives from America!
So to all you other women out there who can relate to having a man like mine, keep your chin up, find your own hobby and be there to pick up the pieces. Those of you who have a man with a relative who belongs to a Deerstalkers Association, keep him well away from them! And if you can’t keep them away, join them! It’s actually quite fun at the range, but don’t tell him that!
It’s all fine and dandy. You have a partner who is the bees knees and you have him all to yourself. Life is going along well until one day your Uncle introduces your new man to “THE DEERSTALKERS ASSOCIATION.” The next thing you know you become a shooting widow, but hey it’s only once a month and you get to spend this day catching up with your Mum and Dad. He also has something else to occupy him so it doesn’t seem that bad.
But what do you know, he starts getting quite interested in this new hobby. He’s been a shooter from the time he could hold a gun up, but this new idea of actual competition target shooting captures his imagination, and his competitive spirit. It’s still not so bad. A few changes to guns, selling this, buying that. Hey what’s the harm in this hobby. And then it strikes, THE RELOAD-ING BUG! We invest in some gear, but alas someone else starts talking at the range and low and behold we get hit by a second bug, CAST BULLET MAKING! Now this has to be the ultimate bug to end all bugs. Any other bug is chicken feed compared to this bug. We invest in some more gear! Two incomes can cope alright with these hobbies, but when you add three children to the equation and only one income it becomes a different story. So we sell the prized shotgun but he thinks that it’s worth it because, hey, Duck Shooting now does not hold the same appeal as before.
He dreams in terms of casting, casting and more casting. He disappears into his cave for more casting but again, hey, we can cope with this. What I can’t cope with is this: The darling goes of to a shoot with wishes of “have a brilliant day darling.” I stay at home with the children and that’s nice too. We expect him home at a fairly decent time having had a brilliant day with the lads, shooting, yarning and coming home relaxed and ready for another week at the workplace and happy to see us after this absence. BUT, and this is a big BUT, what do we get — a husband who is not worth letting in the door.
Now if I have a day out by myself I come home ready to embrace the family and the life I love to the max. But no, after a day shooting with, you guessed it, CAST BULLETS, we have a very, to put it mildly, annoyed and disgruntled man, who some would say is bordering on the obsessive, who can not find one thing to be happy about in his day. You guessed it, the cast bullets are not shooting right and after quite a few and I mean quite a few, changes of loads, velocities, powders, wheel weights, gas checks, groups sizes, cases, moulds, dies and all the other jargon that goes with cast bullet making, not to mention the numerous trips to his brother’s place for a try of a new solution, we still come home from shoots with the “I give up” attitude.
But alas, we don’t, do we? Give up I mean! How many years can this go on, I ask you? As many as it takes, so that the whole idea doesn’t get the better of him. One bonus I suppose is that he does have a hobby, but finding the fine line is difficult. The rainbow at the end of this whole saga is that finally he has come up with his own theories, quite ground breaking ideas, and can now save some other poor wife or partner from having a man come home from the range with an attitude problem instead of an “I’ve had a brilliant day, thanks” attitude.
The other thing that has struck me is his ability to recall at the drop of a hat untold figures and numerous other useless information, but ask him to remember to get some milk on the way back from the range and what do we get? You guessed it — nothing! Strange that, not sure if this is a Male thing or a Shooters thing.
We go on to new challenges (as obsessive characters do). Now we are starting on a new journey into the unknown (thanks Dave of The Far North!) of Copper Bullet Swaging, but hopefully with all our extensive and prior knowledge this won’t be as big a learning curve as in previous times. Hopefully it won’t take as many trips and sleepless nights (no not for the reason of getting up to the baby), or as much wheeling and dealing of goods, or as much cave-time and no long faced attitude as the Cast Bullet Bug created. He does still have traces of the Bug in his blood but it seems to have deviated to the side for now till the new Swaging gear arrives from America!
So to all you other women out there who can relate to having a man like mine, keep your chin up, find your own hobby and be there to pick up the pieces. Those of you who have a man with a relative who belongs to a Deerstalkers Association, keep him well away from them! And if you can’t keep them away, join them! It’s actually quite fun at the range, but don’t tell him that!
