Andra and Phil recently took hunter education together.  In spite of Phil's eagerness to have a buddy, he admits it was wield to have our tender little angel:



be ready to go hunting:



But on our first day of dove hunting as a family, where someone other than Phil was shooting, I think they had a great time.

Phil and Andra looked for doves, with little luck, and Grace and I looked at the piles and piles of trash and discarded clothing the illegal immigrants leave behind.  I get that they are running for their lives, but apparently they don't need jackets, shirts, hats or empty bottles.  We could have filled the back of the truck - but we stopped after a couple trash bags - it felt a little like filling a swimming pool with an eye dropper.  But less fun.

Then we all shot a couple rounds - Grace was a dead eye with the .22.  She made it look easy.  Andra shot the first clay pigeon we pulled for her.  Phil tried to say it was dumb luck, but based on the fact that my first shot went somewhere around Mars after the shotgun kicked, I think she did great.

She has a javelina tag and deer tag, and she begged to help clean the guns when they got home, something like "Do we get to clean the guns now??!!!?? Yea!"  Clearly, she is Phil's girl.