Yesterday evening, Kevin arrived for dinner with a bag of Yukon gold potatoes, a ball of heavy twine, a faded stop sign, and a potato gun. “I brought a target for the spud gun,” he explained.
We sometimes shoot potatoes from my back deck. Or, as I say in my worst Aussie accent: “I like to shoot potatoes frum me dick.”
Harmless fun, I assure you.
While our beer butt chicken cooked upright in the barbie, Kevin and I ambled down below my house and hoisted the stop sign up into a dead tree. We fixed it there with the twine. For the next couple hours, we fired Yukon gold potatoes at the sign or across the gulch below.
Posted are two photographs and a video of Keven firing the gun. The images and video are thanks to my new smarter-than-me-phone.