I got up early on Saturday to go on the first shoot of the season. I wasn't shooting - as the only thing I would be likely to hit was other people, and apparently that is frowned upon in these parts - so was going along as a beater to help get the birds in the air.
I have not yet been able to bring myself to buy a Barbour jacket so was kitted out in semi-inappropriate gear. Still it kept me dryish and nobody pointed and laughed which I took as a good thing. This was us getting ready to go.
We spent a couple of hours going from drive to drive (technical jargon for shooting session) and wood to wood, whooping and shouting and banging on trees and generally scaring the bejesus out of the wildlife, and encouraging the occasional pheasant to take off and meet its maker.
My future father-in-law bagged a couple of birds early on and I managed to chase one bird like a mad man and get it off the ground so it felt like a successful start to the day.
At one point I heard what sounded like a bird in a tree so went over to it to hit it with my beating stick. Unfortunately I did not check the ground next to the tree and found myself falling into the brambles and a quite large hole up to my waist. Luckily another beater was at hand to drag me out and another valuable lesson was learned.
Lunch came not a moment too soon, and was delicious. Guinness, wine and pheasant curry. Woof!! Loads of chat and met lots more of the friends of the family. I found out later that I was meant to sit with the other beaters' so another cock-up notched up by me, but the wine that I got on the head table made me not worry about it for too long.
We went back out for another two drives after lunch and the elements became more and more Irish, and we all got more and more wet and windswept.
Enough birds were shot for all to be happy and I was glad that it had not been too much of a bloodbath and slaughter. Here are some future meals.
Everything will end up in the pot eventually so there is nothing to worry about - my conscience is clean and pheasant tastes good.
We got back home at a reasonable hour, knackered but having had a very enjoyable experience. I am going to do more beating in the future and plan to have a few goes (is that how you spell that in this instance?) blasting the hell out of clay pigeons before trying it out on live things such as pheasants or sheep.
We got invited and went to dinner at a friend's house and then had a banging sesh in the pub and earned myself a well deserved hangover.
A good day all round.
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