Today had it all, birthday, anniversary, deer hunting, and broadcasting our support of Public Radio and WFPL. Hear our message at the end of this post.
Isabel is 11 months old tonight and pulled herself up to a standing position with the support of the coffee table.
It won't be long till she's walking!
Sherriann and I have enjoyed 12 wonderful years together. As Isabel is still getting over a recent bout with a cold, I surprised Sherri by picking up dinner at one of our favorite restaurants,
Stony River. We've just dined on Caesar salad, a pair of 10 oz filets "Oscar style" (crabmeat on top) with a side of mashed cinnamon sweet pototoes. Later we'll share our desserts. Yum.
And all this after I went hunting this morning and harvested a deer for our new freezer. I was home by 10:30am and had processed the meat by 4pm. Thanks again for sending me to the woods, sweetie. And yes, I let the little buck walk on by.
My morning hunt on dad's farm was almost a bust. Turkeys were landing all around as dawn broke.
Thank goodness the the 3D camo, or they would have raised a ruckus and scared all the deer away.
At daybreak, I was sitting on the ground with my back against a large cedar for less than 30 minutes, when I suddenly heard hooves stomping the ground directly behind me. This was followed by a deer blowing. I waited a moment before slowly turning my head, hoping the cedar and my camouflage would conceal my location. Through the underbrush, I spied a pair of does bobbing their heads trying to see what that odd shape was under the cedar tree near their bedding area. They didn't look for long, deciding instead to leave the way they came.
As for me, I figured that my morning hunt was wasted, so I grabbed my gear and headed out of the woods the same way the deer had exited. As I began my 200 yard walk down the grassy meadow toward the recently harvested corn field where I had parked, I happened to look up in time to see the two does jumping the fence between the meadow and corn stubble. They loped into a tree-lined gulley about 250 yards away.
Immediately, eight deer came blasting out of the gulley, startled by the commotion these two were making. The herd moved reminiscent of the 3th and 4th turns at Churchill Downs' Kentucky Derby. They made a 100-yard-wide counter-clockwise circle, first away, then toward me. I couldn't believe my eyes. In turn, they each vaulted over the fence and, suddenly slowing to a trot, preceded up the hillside where I had smartly sat down to watch the race. I now had plenty of time to take the Winchester 243 back out of the case, insert the clip and chamber a round, all while taking in the size of the seven does and the trailing 2-point buck.
With the herd nearing up the hill toward my 2 o-clock position, I waited until the largest doe was 40 yards away and still slightly lower than my position. A misfire would safely lodge in a distant ridge just beyond the meadow. No need to worry. My shot was true, and the deer was down.
It's Daddy and hubby time.
Our WFPL message of support.
Next time you find yourself wanting to shout that phrase at the top of your lungs, have some facts to back up your claim. After all, it's one thing to say it, but ima
