Wednesday, 16 January 2019

A piece of the past

When I was in my teens my father bought a rifle. There was someone who worked for him that also was a gunsmith. My father paid him to make a rifle. I know the stock was carved and some of the parts were machined, I do not remember much else. The rifle he had made is a .243 and my father bought a scope for it. Before the gunsmith handed it over to my father he put approximately two hundred rounds through it sighting the sights and the scope.

Once it was in my father's hands he put it in a zippered padded case and rarely touched it. Years later dad and I were out hunting and he brought the gun with him. We were stopped somewhere and I mentioned that he should try it out. He took it out of the case fired one shot out of it and put it away. As far as I know he never shot it more than that one time which is more than I managed. I think he did it to screw with me.

My father died in 1997. Come to think of it, the gunsmith passed on some years back. My father had seven rifles when he died. Many years ago he had two hundred, that caused a serious disagreement with my mother, and the number was severely cut back. This happened when I was about three or four. He never had more than seven after that as long as I can remember. After he died I gave six of them to his brother and I kept his .243. My wife was not happy with having a gun in the house so I sold it to a cousin's husband who told me I could get it back sometime.

Fast forward about twenty years and I find myself divorced. Since there is no one around to give me grief about having a gun on the premises anymore I made a call to the guy and asked if he would be willing to sell it back to me. Last night I completed the transaction and I have it locked in a gun safe.

I have no one to leave it to, I just wanted it back and now I have it. I have two items of my father's, a ring with a wide band with gold nuggets circling it, and his rifle. I just feel better having it back in my possession. I might fire a few rounds out of it.

Chatsworth School 1919 - 1953

Former one room school near Vermillion, Alberta.

Thought I would try it in black and white. Looks colder this way.

Tuesday, 15 January 2019


Meet Gus.

He looks kind of prehistoric but he has an important job . . . protecting these black Angus cattle from coyotes. He's also pretty friendly.

Got any carrots?

Back to work.

By the way, Gus and his herd live just a mile or so down the road from this guy and his companions.

- Michael Truman