Sunshine on Persimmon

I've always hankered after that sort of titling for a post. It has a green fingery ring, which in my case is a bit of a hollow laff.

Anyway, there's me 'n' mater enjoying a pre-déjeuner ouzo and she ups and says, "Oh, look at the way the sun's catching the persimmon" which is my cue for the camera.
Rather nice weather right now: tourists gone so the roads are free of nutters on those buggies which were this season's choice for mort sur la route.

All the verds are verdant and the auts tumnal and there's a saucy breeze during the day that keeps one moving briskly.

Gun Law: To my pleasure and surprise, there are no gun laws over here.

I've always been a rifle enthusiast since I found I can shoot amazingly straight and consistently. At school I was in the .303 rifle team and, although I developed a permanent bruise on my cheek from the bugger kicking back, I was better than the rest of the beefy shootists.

So, I'm in this shop admiring this very fine Elk Horn Gunshop lookalike, plus a ramboesque crossbow, and the shop assistant pads over and starts talking bores and balance to me and knocking the price down.

I stammer something about being a mere foreigner but he silences me with a look as if to say that we gun dudes are never 'foreigners'.

So now I spend a large amount of time adjusting the cross hairs on the tree rats and watching them positively ejected off the branches with barely a frisson's shudder from the weapon.

The crossbow will take a little more time to adjust to and I am currently at 'Not safe' stage.
VIEW: I know it's boring to look at 'scenery' but have a gander at the clear view across to Albania. Gorgeous.

I'm about to book a ticket over there and check the place out. I hear they're pretty hostile and dour and you don't make eye contact and gawd help you if you smile so it should suit me down to my winklepickers