It’s late. It’s so late, it’s now probably classed as very early. I’m trawling the internet. No, I’m not some spotty teen, degrading myself by looking at the internet for what it is most used for, trying not to think that it’s the last day of half term. It’s much worse degradation. I’m about to hit middle age, and about to hit my first proper mid life crises, I’m trawling for tips on how to hunt bunnies. For I have just bought my first air rifle. I say first proper mid life crises, for I have had many, just earlier than the socially excepted norm.
10 years ago, up until this year I had the job and the means and the life and the lifestyle. I had the cars, the motorcycle, the aircraft, the trophy wife. In fact not quite the trophy I thought she was though. But that’s for another blog. Divorce robbed me of once thought close friends, and when I woke up, also of my avenue of funding such a lifestyle. Who knew I wasn’t that indispensable to my clients after all? Apparently everyone did. So now I was skint, jobless and bored.
In a moment I shall rewind a little bit in time, in the lead up to buying my first air rifle, but for now, shall wallow in the story that lead me to my first blog.
It was while trawling the net for tips, I came across a blog, so well written, so beguiling, so in tune with everything that switched a light on inside, that explained perfectly that what bought me to the idea of feeding myself with God’s own bounty. The blog lifed me up, higher than I have been in weeks, and then in a few short hours had me crashing down. He had written for 18 months. Then, as quickly as he had started, he finished. More than a year ago, closer to two! I had been captivated, with a glimps of looking forward to his future writings only to have it all dashed in a blink of an eye. Just like that.
His blog was rabbit stew. Look for it. I implore you, read it, it’s amazing and far better written than I will ever be able to attempt or succeed in captivating an audience. Even if you don’t hunt or even shoot, I promise you, it’s a worthwhile read. If there was a mantle, a torch, then I am picking that mantle, that torch and running with it. For I am Son of Rabbit Stew. Not that HH has ever heard of me. But I’m sure he will approve.
I’m not here to tell you that a .177 is better than .22. There will be no debate. No reviews to tell you that one rifle is better than the other. For I am no expect. I won’t be able to teach you how to stalk your quarry. This though will be a journey of someone who had it all, and now back to basics, filling or trying his best to fill his time up with the latest craze, that will hopefully turn into a passion before your, the readers, eyes. Listen and partake in my journey, if hunting and shooting is your bag. If not, maybe I will entertain you with stories, no doubt of failing to feed myself.
Many years ago the taxpayer paid for my training through Sandhurst to be a soldier. Bunnies will be a walk in the park. How hard can it be…..?