When Christmas Day is done and dusted shooting folk can then concentrate on what always promises to be a fun day out with family and friends
The Boxing Day shoot is – or should be – the occasion when the youngsters become involved. When I was a lad it was the day when the junior members of the big house got to have a go at the pheasants and the rest of us would be dragged away from the new Scalextric to join the beating line. My mother prescribed fresh air and exercise on Boxing Day, while my father nursed his port and mince pie hangover in the relative calm of Bracken Beds, until he was allowed a hair of the dog for elevenses.
There was always a degree of informality, if only in the sense that lunch was taken en masse in the fragrant surroundings of the hay store. The size of the bag at the end of the day was less important than the fact it included somebody’s first ever pheasant. Hurrah!
It has been a while since I attended a Boxing Day shoot, but I dare say they haven’t changed too much. Hosts tend to come in a limited variety of flavours. Father Christmas himself on the one hand and Ebeneezer Scrooge on the other, with a limited palette of versions in between, all of which depend on the degree of dyspepsia occasioned by a massive consumption of food and drink the day before.
This story is from the December 2017 edition of Shooting Gazette.
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This story is from the December 2017 edition of Shooting Gazette.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
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