I mowed the grass yesterday for the first time this spring. Then my 17-year-old son and I did some revolver shooting along Elm Creek. The east bank is high. It serves perfectly as a backstop at a sharp bend.
There were no fancy targets: some 3-inch Shoot-n-See bulls stuck on a worn piece of plywood at seven yards, two soup cans to roll at 1o or 15 yards, an old bleach bottle left by the last high water at 25 yards, and a steel plate a little more than 75 yards out. My son did some fine shooting with both hands. I don't think he's wired to have a dominant hand when shooting. However, he's left-eye dominant and a right-handed scribbler.
I had a bit of trouble remembering how a lefty should load and eject empties. I muddled through showing him. I've been toting a pistol on my right side since wheel locks came into vogue, so it was even a better lesson for me. It has been a very long time since I've had to teach lefties. Then, too, I've grown careless at keeping the body trained for Plan B--what it should do when a dominant hand or arm fails.
Anyhow, we had fun. We went through 3 boxes of .38 Special reloads before supper time. My son had no trouble ringing the 8" square plate with the 158-grain semi wadcutters. It reminded me how glad I'll be to get these cataracts removed. I could barely see the plate.