“My dinner is still in the woods.” - Unknown

Today. It is just that. Another day in the neighborhood as we get our stuff together and get on with it here on this Wednesday, October 18, 2017. This time of year in my growing up years were days of preparing for winter, doing some squirrel hunting, and getting ready for deer season. Getting wood was the major activity in preparing for colder weather. That involved some back-breaking work in cutting down trees, trimming them, cutting them into fireplace-sized logs, and loading, unloading, and stacking them in the wood pile. I hear the words grunt work but I can tell you from experience that doing that type of work makes one grunt. So much so that my grandfather used to tell me that he would do the grunting for both of us. He said I just needed to concentrate on my end of the crosscut saw. We would later enjoy the fruit of our labor as we could sit and warm ourselves by a hot fire as the cold rain would come down outside. The other reward was being able to accompany my grandfather on a hunting excursion. My grandfather enjoyed the woods, but, his hunting always had the objective of getting something that could be eaten. He loved fried squirrel. Granny Mac knew exactly how to prepare it. He could also fry it up out in the woods, make gravy out of the drippings, and bake some heavy biscuits on the campfire coals. It always seemed so much better eaten out in the woods. That's what October would mean to us. I'm thankful for those memories and I'm even more thankful for those, like Paw Paw Mac, who made them possible. Amen.

Fishing and hunting back in those days were not done like they are on the outdoor programs you see on TV. It is all about the gear and special equipment today. Even as a kid I recognized how the prey was outnumbered in terms of us having a shotgun or rifle. However, we certainly did our hunting in a much more rustic manner than it is done today. We had no camo clothing. No insulated underwear. No scent to cover our smell. No scopes or binoculars. Just our regular clothing along with the excitement that comes in pursuing one's supper. I remember hunting quail one time with my brother-in-law. We were out in an area known to have a lot of birds. There were other hunters also in that area. It was, I suppose, somewhat prophetic, as I observed some of the other hunting parties with their special vehicles, walkie-talkies, and all kinds of special gear. We didn't have any of that but we did have our own special equipment. Top notch bird dogs. These dogs found the birds. They pointed them out to us. On command, they would flush the birds out. We would shoot the birds. Later, we enjoyed a quail stew or gumbo. We so enjoyed being out there, but, we didn't need the special gear to make it special to us. It obviously was meaningful to me because I'm still writing about it all these years later.

Big city life did have an impact on all of these homespun experiences. I did my best the first few years to keep one foot in my rural past while the other was literally on the run. Working many hours per week, commuting into downtown Houston, and dealing with all the trappings of city and urban life, well, slowly but surely the old days became harder and harder to get hold of. There was no way to replicate them in our area. I actually put my gun in the car and drove around looking for a place in our area to hunt. Everything was either fenced in or had signs prohibiting access. Even when I was a white-collar worker at Fort Polk, I could come home, change my clothes, grab my gun, and walk into the woods behind our rented farmhouse and be hunting within 30 minutes. We did do some camping out with our boys, but, it wasn't the same. We camped in a state park facility. We were able to fish and we all had a good time, but, it wasn't the same. Nowadays, people ask me what my hobbies are and I am hard pressed to name any. I do need to find out what they are so I can fill in some of the blanks. I'll ask my wife and boys. Maybe they know what my hobbies are. I do know what they are not. They are not hunting, fishing and camping like I did as a kid. Maybe, one of them is remembering those times and enjoying the trip down that muddy memory lane. I think I'll use that one until I get something better. Please don't. It's not necessary to forward today's blog for someone to do a psychological assessment. It would ruin their day and not do much for me as well. Have a great one and enjoy those wonderful memories that God has allowed. Amen. ....More later.