Did I want to try archery?
Monika encouraged me with a smile. “Yes” always leads to new adventures and that sealed it.
“Let’s do it.”
I’ve never been very good at athletics. They picked me last for teams in school for a good reason. Do you know anyone else who failed a PE test? My elementary softball team stopped telling me where the games were being played (I mean, I didn’t notice until a girl teased me about it, but still! Ruuuude!).
But, my favorite childhood movie was Disney’s Robin Hood with the sly Robin Hood fox and a big bear as Little John. How could I say no?
Thus, with no expectations of anything but a fun time, I signed up for archery and jumped into the car with Monika. She drove us to the fellow’s house where we discovered him in his garage.
Before we could descend into the backyard where I could see a target all set up, the lesson started with us finding our dominant eye. To do this, we held our arms and hands out as if we were pushing against a wall and overlapped them to form a little triangular opening (thumbs as the bottom of the triangle). Then, we had to focus on his face, bring our hands up fast and find his face through the opening.
My hand-eye coordination is nothing to shout about, but by closing one eye and then the other, I discovered that my right eye is my dominant one.
This is important for the bow as the dominant eye needs to be able to look right down the arrow when aiming. So, I needed a right-handed bow.
He sent us down into the backyard and went to get our bows. We regrouped by the quiver, a two-foor high piece of six-inch white PVC pipe attached to a board with six arrows inside.
But we weren’t ready to touch the bows yet.
He taught us how to stand, how to hold our hands and the correct posture. An exercise band stood in for the bow. Arm and finger protectors fitted to our lower arms and string fingers.
The bows were regular, not a compound bow or anything like that. Inlaid wood lined the grip and a lightweight but strong and flexible material made up the curved part of the bow. Some kind of strong fiber formed the bowstring and a little brass bead sat at the center. The notch on the backend of the arrow got placed onto the string just under that bead and then our fingers went just below that, close but not touching the arrow.
And finally, we got to shoot. The first arrows didn’t reach the target, and the next ones bounced off. When my first one hit and stuck, I cheered. Yes! Perhaps I could qualify as a Merry Wo-Man!
Each successive grouping of arrows got better. Muscle memory was the key. Well, shoot! I could do that. What I’m good at is allowing my body to set a muscle memory. To let it find a groove and not get in the way. That’s how I got good at knitting, at playing the piano, at typing.
The quiet contemplation, the focus, the setting of my muscles in just the right way—all of this combined to bring a peace into my soul. Nothing existed but me and the target.
![female foot archers female foot archers](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5fa78594-164f-4c8d-bc91-2fd8ce73e042_465x412.jpeg)
And, occasionally, an animal…
Accompanying each lesson was a visit from Carl the Cat, a small white cat with one blue and one green eye. Carl would ask for pets under our feet or stop the lesson by running up to the target and grabbing arrows with his paws until our teacher would cuddle him up into his arms and take him into the house.
The flock of chickens also needed a little attention. Clucking and plucking bugs from the ground, they spent one lesson strutting across our sightlines until we flushed them to the sides.
To be fair, we were in their space.
Despite distraction, with this wonderful teacher’s encouragement, I felt like I could do it. He praised us for doing the right thing and gently corrected when necessary. Really, the perfect combination and he made me feel like I had some talent at this whole archery thing.
So, after four whole lessons, I’m contemplating purchasing my own bow and arrows and keeping up the practice. Archery. Who’d a thunk it?
Plus, it’s another apocalypse talent! Being able to shoot a bow and arrow could definitely help out in the collapse of modern society, though not as pleasant as spinning fiber or knitting socks and sweaters.
I might not be Robin Hood, but surely the Lesbian Housewyfe Archer could save Maid Marian.
Time to order that bow!
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Love the foot archers! And you are good at athletics…you just never found the right sport or had the right encouragement!
Loved it! You brought me there!