<a href="http://www.tashadoestulsa.com/2013/03/home-on-the-range/timthumb-php/" rel="attachment wp-att-12947"><img src="http://www.tashadoestulsa.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/timthumb.php_-500x407.jpg" alt="Home on the Range This Land Press by Natasha Ball art by Jeremy Luther" title="Home on the Range This Land Press by Natasha Ball art by Jeremy Luther" width="500" height="407" class="aligncenter size-large wp-image-12947" /></a>

Aaron had packed everything we’d need for the day and nothing more: hats, ammunition, pistol, holster, spare magazine, magazine pouch, aluminum bottles of water. 

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He packed us a pair of identical lunches: some slices of leftover ham and carrot sticks in Ziploc bags. We intended to satisfy the qualification requirements to legally carry firearms, concealed on our person—or, as we heard we would be able to do starting in late fall, carried openly on a hip—for lawful self-defense. In our state, under the Oklahoma Self-Defense Act, that meant a morning in a classroom with a few dozen people we had never met, all of them armed. 

It was something we could do together. A day date.

<a href="http://thislandpress.com/03/13/2013/home-on-the-range/" target="_blank">Read Home on the Range at ThisLandPress.com</a>.