One good day follows another

I personally wasn't having the best day ever; I slept even less than usual Saturday night, and I felt just a little crossways of the universe.  Even so, it was another great day.   I made a crockpot full of taco soup, enough so that anybody passing through could have some.   Cliff's brother Don and his wife were still here, so the two guys worked on various tractors all day.  Relatives and strangers came for target practice in the pasture.  

On Facebook, I found a picture somebody took of my daughter yesterday that I absolutely love:  I see traces of my little girl from long ago in this shot.   Best.  Picture.  Ever.

Granddaughter Monica has a boy friend.  In a field full of people with guns, he was treading cautiously.  

Oldest grandson and Heather joined in the fun.

Son-in-law Kevin loves things that go "bang".  

The grandson, Heather, and a friend, Allen, spent quite a bit of time cleaning their weapons.  

Gotta love rednecks.  


I shamelessly stole most of these pictures on Facebook.  Since I wasn't at my peak performance, I remained in the house while the shooting was going on, reading the strangest book I've read in awhile, "The Art of Racing in the Rain".  The narrater of the story is a dog.  I cried at the ending.    


Nephew Scott put this on Facebook this morning:  "I love when my Aunt Donna gets out her guitar and sings her songs."  
I told him, "I don't do it often because nobody asks.  Thanks for asking."