For the past 46 years, or since I was 14, I have been a University of North Carolina basketball fan. During 42 of those years, the season ended badly, that is without the Heels winning a national championship.
The four years where Carolina captured the title are the biggest thrills I have had in sports. Last Sunday when the season ended with UNC's loss to Kansas, I was moody and gloomy as always, though, in reality, the season likely ended for all intents and purposes the Sunday before when Kendall Marshall broke his wrist.
Nevertheless, UNC has given me much over the years, especially Coach Dean Smith. I have read his books and the wisdom he imparted on how to treat people in general and young people specifically greatly influenced how I teach high school students. In fact, I often tell people I have two roll models: Coach Smith and my late grandfather Willie. Both talked about the importance of hard work, treating people with respect, and having high expectations for yourself.
Yes, the last loss is always a bitter blow, but, proverbially, there is always next year. And without a doubt the "Carolina Way" that Coach Smith instituted is a marvelous way to approach life.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Friday, March 23, 2012
Gobbling and Crowing (Blog Seventy-eight)
This week, the intensity of the gobbling behind our house took a quantum leap forward. Elaine and I have been hearing toms irregularly sound off since late February, but beginning Monday and continuing through Friday (which is when I write this) the booming sounds of male turkeys reached new levels.
Tuesday was the most intense morning. While I was walking my daily three miles in the dark before school, I heard one particularly boisterous monarch gobbling a good 45 minutes before sunrise. When I arrived home, I ascertained that he was only about a 100 yards away from our chicken coop. Our rooster, Little Jerry, was crowing inside the coop and when I let him out into the run, the cockerel matched the gobbler in their respective species' versions of "I'm in charge here. All males beware."
Finally, Jerry and the tom subsided, but then another gobbler began, just 75 yards below our house and yet another chimed in on the creek ridge 75 yards in the other direction. This set off Little Jerry and the first gobbler and everybody had to go through another round of who the macho male was.
I can hardly wait until Virginia's turkey season starts.
Tuesday was the most intense morning. While I was walking my daily three miles in the dark before school, I heard one particularly boisterous monarch gobbling a good 45 minutes before sunrise. When I arrived home, I ascertained that he was only about a 100 yards away from our chicken coop. Our rooster, Little Jerry, was crowing inside the coop and when I let him out into the run, the cockerel matched the gobbler in their respective species' versions of "I'm in charge here. All males beware."
Finally, Jerry and the tom subsided, but then another gobbler began, just 75 yards below our house and yet another chimed in on the creek ridge 75 yards in the other direction. This set off Little Jerry and the first gobbler and everybody had to go through another round of who the macho male was.
I can hardly wait until Virginia's turkey season starts.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Reasons to Arise (Blog Seventy-seven)
As is usual, this morning, I arose, ate Bob's Red Mill oatmeal with bananas and other fruit and went walking and birding in the dark. Even an hour before sunrise, the songbirds, especially this time of year when attracting a mate and establishing territory is vital, are exceptionally active.
The first avian I heard was a mockingbird, belting out his song in a field off our rural road. Soon two male cardinals began dueling by song, each, in effect, warning the other to stay away from his little patch of turf.
Two weeks ago, we had woodcocks doing their mating dance high in the air, but they have flown north. But we had another transient visitor a few days ago, a hermit thrush. He has been singing his flute-like melody - an incredibly beautiful one.
Like the woodcock, the hermit thrush will not be here for long. Soon he will wend his way north and our breeding season wood thrushes will return. As melodic as the hermit thrush is, I feel that the wood thrush sports the most sublime song of all our songbirds.
Of course, the song I enjoy hearing the most is not often thought of as a song, but it truly is - the booming gobble of a male turkey. Which reminds me, I should go outside right now and see if I can hear any toms sounding off. Turkeys have been behind the house for five straight mornings - will today be number six?
The first avian I heard was a mockingbird, belting out his song in a field off our rural road. Soon two male cardinals began dueling by song, each, in effect, warning the other to stay away from his little patch of turf.
Two weeks ago, we had woodcocks doing their mating dance high in the air, but they have flown north. But we had another transient visitor a few days ago, a hermit thrush. He has been singing his flute-like melody - an incredibly beautiful one.
Like the woodcock, the hermit thrush will not be here for long. Soon he will wend his way north and our breeding season wood thrushes will return. As melodic as the hermit thrush is, I feel that the wood thrush sports the most sublime song of all our songbirds.
Of course, the song I enjoy hearing the most is not often thought of as a song, but it truly is - the booming gobble of a male turkey. Which reminds me, I should go outside right now and see if I can hear any toms sounding off. Turkeys have been behind the house for five straight mornings - will today be number six?
Friday, March 9, 2012
No Power, No Problem (Blog Seventy-six)
Wednesday evening our electricity went off just after Elaine finished cooking dinner. Living in a rural area, we are used to periodically losing power, especially in the wintertime. Our wood stove was already well-stoked so there was no problem with heat.
Nor was there any problem with light or the evening's entertainment. While Elaine went to retrieve our Scrabble set and several candles for ambiance, I went to find our Coleman lantern and flashlights.
Elaine set up our scrabble game near the stove and placed two candles on the brick hearth.
We used our Coleman LED flashlights to make our way around the house, and my wife arranged the Coleman lantern behind the game board. Then the match began.
Elaine and I are currently involved in a Scrabble brouhaha that has lasted about four years. We have best of 11 matches and so far there have been over 20 of those matches. The previous match she won 6-0, and on Wednesday evening I won the latest one, also 6-0. Most of our matches, though, see scores of 6-5 or 6-4 and the deciding game is often settled by just a few points.
Any activity with Elaine indoors or out is always a joy. And so when the power went off, it was no problem at all.
Elaine set up our scrabble game near the stove and placed two candles on the brick hearth.
We used our Coleman LED flashlights to make our way around the house, and my wife arranged the Coleman lantern behind the game board. Then the match began.
Elaine and I are currently involved in a Scrabble brouhaha that has lasted about four years. We have best of 11 matches and so far there have been over 20 of those matches. The previous match she won 6-0, and on Wednesday evening I won the latest one, also 6-0. Most of our matches, though, see scores of 6-5 or 6-4 and the deciding game is often settled by just a few points.
Any activity with Elaine indoors or out is always a joy. And so when the power went off, it was no problem at all.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Transition Time (Blog Seventy-five)
In this time of not quite spring, but not still winter, Elaine and I are definitely in a transition stage. We are still enjoying the fruits of our labor from last spring and summer, as today she ate strawberry jam (made from berries from our garden last June) on toast while I enjoyed wineberry cobbler (made from berries gathered on our land).
But we are also busily doing habitat improvement projects. Wednesday after school and Friday before school, we planted white pine seedlings in two clearcuts behind our house and earlier in the week we planted three sawtooth oak seedlings in our food plot. I had planned to go to our Sinking Creek land to plant eight other sawtooth oaks but the heavy rain the past few days has made that trip unlikely.
The birds are also in a transitional phase. A woodcock showed up Monday and has remained on our land all week. Every morning and evening we hear him emitting his diagnostic "peenk" sound and doing his aerial mating flight. The turkeys have been talking behind the house all week and it is clear that the gobblers are ready for romance.
I also have firmed up turkey hunting trips to North Carolina and Tennessee in the past fortnight and will, as always, pursue toms in Virginia and West Virginia. And I have trout and smallmouth bass fishing excursions planned. This is a busy time of the year.
But we are also busily doing habitat improvement projects. Wednesday after school and Friday before school, we planted white pine seedlings in two clearcuts behind our house and earlier in the week we planted three sawtooth oak seedlings in our food plot. I had planned to go to our Sinking Creek land to plant eight other sawtooth oaks but the heavy rain the past few days has made that trip unlikely.
The birds are also in a transitional phase. A woodcock showed up Monday and has remained on our land all week. Every morning and evening we hear him emitting his diagnostic "peenk" sound and doing his aerial mating flight. The turkeys have been talking behind the house all week and it is clear that the gobblers are ready for romance.
I also have firmed up turkey hunting trips to North Carolina and Tennessee in the past fortnight and will, as always, pursue toms in Virginia and West Virginia. And I have trout and smallmouth bass fishing excursions planned. This is a busy time of the year.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Chickens in the Snow (Blog Seventy-four)
We often refer to our chickens, which were hatched last spring, as teenage chickens because of their relative youth and how they react to new things. Their newness to the world was on display last Sunday when our birds experienced their first snow.
In short, they were both terrified and befuddled of the white stuff falling. Around 3:30 when the snowfall was at its peak, Little Jerry and his five hens stopped moving and feeding altogether. They huddled near one corner of their run and did not move for over 2 1/2 hours.
As darkness was approaching, we began to fear that they would not have enough sense to walk the few feet to their house and the warmth to be found there. It is also a fair question to ask that as the birds were all cold and miserable and were not drinking or eating anything, why had they huddled in abject terror for such a long period of time? Had they not enough sense to come in out of the snow?
Finally at 6:10, one of the hens moved out from the pod and began making her way to the hen house door and the rest followed in single file. The next morning their behavior was also puzzling - they refused to leave the hen house even though the snow had stopped and was just a few inches deep.
Around 8:00 A.M, we placed food inside the hen house and periodically added more. Around 9:30, we placed a slice of bread on the gang plank and brave Ruby and Tallulah, our two alpha hens, ventured out to nibble. But when the bread fell off the gang plank, neither had moxie enough to walk the few inches to the slice that was lying in the snow.
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At last around 11:00, the flock worked up enough courage to come outside. "The Sunday it Snowed" was not our birds' finest moment.
In short, they were both terrified and befuddled of the white stuff falling. Around 3:30 when the snowfall was at its peak, Little Jerry and his five hens stopped moving and feeding altogether. They huddled near one corner of their run and did not move for over 2 1/2 hours.
As darkness was approaching, we began to fear that they would not have enough sense to walk the few feet to their house and the warmth to be found there. It is also a fair question to ask that as the birds were all cold and miserable and were not drinking or eating anything, why had they huddled in abject terror for such a long period of time? Had they not enough sense to come in out of the snow?
Finally at 6:10, one of the hens moved out from the pod and began making her way to the hen house door and the rest followed in single file. The next morning their behavior was also puzzling - they refused to leave the hen house even though the snow had stopped and was just a few inches deep.
Around 8:00 A.M, we placed food inside the hen house and periodically added more. Around 9:30, we placed a slice of bread on the gang plank and brave Ruby and Tallulah, our two alpha hens, ventured out to nibble. But when the bread fell off the gang plank, neither had moxie enough to walk the few inches to the slice that was lying in the snow.
.JPG)
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Waiting for the First Gobble of Spring (Blog Seventy-three)
This morning after conducting my daily routine of filling the feeder and waterer for our chickens, I lingered outside in the early light hoping to hear the first gobble of spring. The sound was not forthcoming; nevertheless, it is nearly time for an annual rite of spring to commence.
Already, a number of other birds have begun singing their mating tunes. Last month, the great-horned owls were in full vocal outcry and the mourning doves also began pairing off. This month, the robins, cardinals, and Carolina wrens, among others, have voiced their desires for spring to hurry up and arrive.
Yesterday another sign of the upcoming season was on display. Two male robins were chest bumping each other on a little postage stamp of a neighbor's front yard, determined that each would become master of this piece of turf. The loser, no doubt, would be forced out while the winner was safe - until some other upstart comes along.
This spring, as always, I plan to spring gobbler hunt in my two home states of Virginia and West Virginia and aim also to go to Tennessee and North Carolina. Last spring, I had my best turkey season, but this year could easily be my worst - or another banner year. There's rarely any logic concerning how a year unfolds in the region's turkey woods.
Already, a number of other birds have begun singing their mating tunes. Last month, the great-horned owls were in full vocal outcry and the mourning doves also began pairing off. This month, the robins, cardinals, and Carolina wrens, among others, have voiced their desires for spring to hurry up and arrive.
This spring, as always, I plan to spring gobbler hunt in my two home states of Virginia and West Virginia and aim also to go to Tennessee and North Carolina. Last spring, I had my best turkey season, but this year could easily be my worst - or another banner year. There's rarely any logic concerning how a year unfolds in the region's turkey woods.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Sinking Creek Conservation Easement (Blog Seventy-two)
This week we basically finished the process of putting another conservation easement on the rural land that we own. In April of 2006, we bought 120 acres on Sinking Creek in Craig County, Virginia and immediately after purchasing the land contacted the Virginia Outdoors Foundation (VOF) to put an easement on the land.
In November of that year, we purchased a 20-acre tract that adjoins the 120 acres, so that the viewshed would be protected and the 20 acres would not be developed. The purchase was also part of our "good fences make good neighbors policy," meaning, in this case, no neighbors no need for fences.
For the past few years we have talked about the need to place those 20 acres under easement and this year we finally did so. As usual, working with the VOF and the Western Virginia Land Trust was a pleasurable experience.
As a couple who enjoys the outdoor experience, we strongly recommend conservation easements as a way to protect rural America from development. Land trusts exist in every state on the local, regional, and statewide levels.
Here are some helpful sites.
www.landtrustalliance.org
www.virginiaoutdoorsfoundation.org
www.westernvirginialandtrust.org
In November of that year, we purchased a 20-acre tract that adjoins the 120 acres, so that the viewshed would be protected and the 20 acres would not be developed. The purchase was also part of our "good fences make good neighbors policy," meaning, in this case, no neighbors no need for fences.
For the past few years we have talked about the need to place those 20 acres under easement and this year we finally did so. As usual, working with the VOF and the Western Virginia Land Trust was a pleasurable experience.
As a couple who enjoys the outdoor experience, we strongly recommend conservation easements as a way to protect rural America from development. Land trusts exist in every state on the local, regional, and statewide levels.
Here are some helpful sites.
www.landtrustalliance.org
www.virginiaoutdoorsfoundation.org
www.westernvirginialandtrust.org
Saturday, February 4, 2012
A Buck, a Bushytail, a Bear, and a Bunny (Blog Seventy-one)
This past Wednesday was the last day of Virginia's squirrel season, so after leaving school and arriving home, I went out the backdoor to squirrel hunt. We have a seeded, logging road that runs from one end of our 38 acres to the other, so I walked to our food plot, where one end of the travel way begins or ends depending on where one starts.
No sooner had I left the food plot and entered the road that I spooked the young buck that has taken up residence on our property. The smallish two pointer, an obvious 1 1/2-year-old male, has been spotted by me a dozen or so times this hunting season. I was glad to see that he had survived the various deer seasons.
Immediately afterwards, I encountered a gray squirrel, but it was spooky and soon scampered away when I began to slink toward it. About a half hour later, I heard something rambling through the undergrowth. The animal turned out to be a black bear, perhaps not having denned somewhere because of the warm weather.
Moving on, and with darkness descending, I jumped a rabbit that likewise was moving along the logging road. The cottontail was moving so fast that a shot was impossible.
Indeed, I spent the last hour of squirrel season not killing or shooting at anything. No matter, it was a great evening to ramble through the woods.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Sunday Mornings with Elaine and Mad Men (Blog Seventy)
For the past few months, one of Elaine's and my Sunday morning pleasures has been to sit by the wood stove and watch Mad Men from 6:00 to 9:00 A.M. This morning I arose early to start the fire, so the living room was warm and cozy before she came downstairs for her morning oatmeal and Sunday dose of Don Draper, Peggy Olson, Roger Sterling, and the gang.
Elaine likes to analyze the characters and I enjoy listening to her commentary. She can't stand Pete Campbell, is ambivalent about Ken Cosgrove, and disapproves of Betty Draper.
As for myself, I relish just being in the presence of Elaine's warm personality. She did so many nice things for me today from fixing lunch (venison burgers, baked sweet potatoes, and wineberry pie) to watching the chickens as they wandered around the yard to planning a Scrabble contest for tonight before the North Carolina basketball game tonight (I'm an avid UNC basketball fan).
Every day, Sunday or not, with her is a joy.
Elaine likes to analyze the characters and I enjoy listening to her commentary. She can't stand Pete Campbell, is ambivalent about Ken Cosgrove, and disapproves of Betty Draper.
As for myself, I relish just being in the presence of Elaine's warm personality. She did so many nice things for me today from fixing lunch (venison burgers, baked sweet potatoes, and wineberry pie) to watching the chickens as they wandered around the yard to planning a Scrabble contest for tonight before the North Carolina basketball game tonight (I'm an avid UNC basketball fan).
Every day, Sunday or not, with her is a joy.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Chickens in the Straw (Blog Sixty-nine)
Several blogs ago, I wrote about how Elaine and I placed a bale of straw in our chicken run. The chickens have relished destroying the bale, scratching and pecking their way through it.
In about two weeks, the hard-packed bale was reduced to scattered straw. Elaine then spread the straw evenly around the fenced in run. And then the chickens had more fun, delightedly scratching through the duff every day.
Every time we bring the birds a treat (their favorites include scratch corn, Cheerios, Total Cereal, and bread of any kind) they enthusiastically scratch for hours looking for the last morsel.
We have decided not to free range the birds, knowing that they would last less than a week in our wooded 38 acres. At least 13 different predators would make short work of them. What we have done instead is let the birds out of the run in the evening and under our supervision, the chickens scratch their way across our yard.
The five hens are still producing well, providing us with three to five eggs daily. However, they are moulting now and we expect egg production to suffer.
In about two weeks, the hard-packed bale was reduced to scattered straw. Elaine then spread the straw evenly around the fenced in run. And then the chickens had more fun, delightedly scratching through the duff every day.
Every time we bring the birds a treat (their favorites include scratch corn, Cheerios, Total Cereal, and bread of any kind) they enthusiastically scratch for hours looking for the last morsel.
We have decided not to free range the birds, knowing that they would last less than a week in our wooded 38 acres. At least 13 different predators would make short work of them. What we have done instead is let the birds out of the run in the evening and under our supervision, the chickens scratch their way across our yard.
The five hens are still producing well, providing us with three to five eggs daily. However, they are moulting now and we expect egg production to suffer.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
My Day as a Squirrel Hunting Guide (Blog Sixty-eight)
I spent all day Saturday taking youngsters and their parents squirrel hunting on the 38 acres behind our house. I was working on several articles about young hunters, and our place is usually overrun with squirrels.
Not yesterday, though. In the morning, I took a father and son hunting. The wind howled, the trees shook, and the squirrels hunkered in their dens. We only saw two squirrels all day, and they were in the process of fleeing from us.
That evening, Elaine and I hosted two parents and their daughter and son. The dad and daughter went to one end of the property, the mom, son, and I went to the other. Results similar to the morning were the result.
The whole, misbegotten day set me thinking about the vagaries of hunting. I once went squirrel hunting with a wildlife biologist in the Jefferson National Forest. The gentleman had picked the locale because of its bountiful supply of bushytails. We never saw one all day.
Two things are certain after yesterday. One, my career as a squirrel guide is seriously in jeopardy. And two, I expect to see hordes of bushytails every time I walk out the door today to tend to the chickens today.
Not yesterday, though. In the morning, I took a father and son hunting. The wind howled, the trees shook, and the squirrels hunkered in their dens. We only saw two squirrels all day, and they were in the process of fleeing from us.
That evening, Elaine and I hosted two parents and their daughter and son. The dad and daughter went to one end of the property, the mom, son, and I went to the other. Results similar to the morning were the result.
The whole, misbegotten day set me thinking about the vagaries of hunting. I once went squirrel hunting with a wildlife biologist in the Jefferson National Forest. The gentleman had picked the locale because of its bountiful supply of bushytails. We never saw one all day.
Two things are certain after yesterday. One, my career as a squirrel guide is seriously in jeopardy. And two, I expect to see hordes of bushytails every time I walk out the door today to tend to the chickens today.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Deer Season Over (Blog Sixty-seven)
Yesterday, deer season concluded and I was fortunate to kill a doe during the last half hour of the late muzzleloader season. I started the season in September by bowhunting in Alleghany County, North Carolina and finished it yesterday in Franklin County, Virginia. I ended up killing 10 deer, 9 in Virginia and 1 in West Virginia.
Elaine and I don't buy any meat from a store, so freezing a good supply of venison is essential for our 2012 food supply. We easily eat 8 or 9 deer every year, plus share some with family and friends.
It is always sad when deer season ends, as it has been such a big part of my life outdoors for the past 3 1/2 months. On the other hand, I am going squirrel hunting next Saturday and am looking forward to the change of pace. I also have to give two smallmouth bass seminars this month and that too will be a nice change.
Meanwhile, today, I have to clean much of my deer hunting gear, much of it has been piled onto my work room bed - and that is a real mess. Today, for lunch Elaine and I are dining on venison tenderloin and wineberry pie - celebrating the bounty of the season. Then it will be time to clean the chicken coop and let our birds free range in the yard for several hours.
Elaine and I don't buy any meat from a store, so freezing a good supply of venison is essential for our 2012 food supply. We easily eat 8 or 9 deer every year, plus share some with family and friends.
It is always sad when deer season ends, as it has been such a big part of my life outdoors for the past 3 1/2 months. On the other hand, I am going squirrel hunting next Saturday and am looking forward to the change of pace. I also have to give two smallmouth bass seminars this month and that too will be a nice change.
Meanwhile, today, I have to clean much of my deer hunting gear, much of it has been piled onto my work room bed - and that is a real mess. Today, for lunch Elaine and I are dining on venison tenderloin and wineberry pie - celebrating the bounty of the season. Then it will be time to clean the chicken coop and let our birds free range in the yard for several hours.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Best Christmas Present Ever (Blog Sixty-six)
Last Sunday, Elaine gave me the best Christmas present I have ever received - a fly that she tied herself and that came from a feather from a turkey I called in and killed. I am not ashamed to admit that my eyes became misty when I found her creation in my Christmas stocking.
A little over three years ago, Elaine was diagnosed with breast cancer. As part of her recovery, she attended a Casting for Recovery (www.castingforrecovery.org) retreat in 2010. CFR is a national organization that offers retreats for women with or recovering from breast cancer. Those retreats combine fly fishing, counseling, medical expertise, and breast cancer recovery. It was at a CFR retreat that my wife learned how to fly fish and tie patterns.
The joy of having Elaine healthy again and with me during Christmas is something that is hard to express. The joy of her taking the time to hand tie something for me, especially combining two activities that I enjoy - river smallmouth bass fishing and turkey hunting - is equally inexpressible.
What a wonderful person and wife.
A little over three years ago, Elaine was diagnosed with breast cancer. As part of her recovery, she attended a Casting for Recovery (www.castingforrecovery.org) retreat in 2010. CFR is a national organization that offers retreats for women with or recovering from breast cancer. Those retreats combine fly fishing, counseling, medical expertise, and breast cancer recovery. It was at a CFR retreat that my wife learned how to fly fish and tie patterns.
The joy of having Elaine healthy again and with me during Christmas is something that is hard to express. The joy of her taking the time to hand tie something for me, especially combining two activities that I enjoy - river smallmouth bass fishing and turkey hunting - is equally inexpressible.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Christmas Eve at Home (Blog Sixty-five)
Yesterday, Friday, was my first day off school for the holidays, and I eagerly went to muzzleload hunt for deer in Bedford County. Arriving around 10:00 A.M, I went with the landowner as he showed me the best places to hunt on his property as this was the first time I had been there to pursue whitetails.
After taking a stand, I proceeded to fall asleep three different times in the first two hours I was there, which made me realize how exhausted I was from teaching school, writing, and going hunting every chance I had for the past three-plus months. So at 2:30, I decided to go home and by 6:30, I had gone to bed.
Today, Saturday and Christmas Eve, I spent part of the day cleaning the chicken coop, putting wood in the garage for the winter, and cutting up a downed ash tree. But mostly I just rested. Sometimes that is what I need to do instead of pushing myself all the time.
Tomorrow, Elaine's and my son and daughter and her husband will gather for Christmas brunch and presents. And per Sarah's wishes, I will have a fire going in the stove.
Thanks for reading this year.
After taking a stand, I proceeded to fall asleep three different times in the first two hours I was there, which made me realize how exhausted I was from teaching school, writing, and going hunting every chance I had for the past three-plus months. So at 2:30, I decided to go home and by 6:30, I had gone to bed.
Today, Saturday and Christmas Eve, I spent part of the day cleaning the chicken coop, putting wood in the garage for the winter, and cutting up a downed ash tree. But mostly I just rested. Sometimes that is what I need to do instead of pushing myself all the time.
Tomorrow, Elaine's and my son and daughter and her husband will gather for Christmas brunch and presents. And per Sarah's wishes, I will have a fire going in the stove.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Chicken Delight (Blog Sixty-four)
It was almost a year ago that I broached the subject to Elaine that we should try to raise chickens. Understandably, in our then 32 1/2 years of marriage, she felt that my suggestion was made in jest as we had never even had pets let alone farm animals.
Now we are the proud owners of five egg bearing Rhode Island Red hens and their guardian Little Jerry. Recently we have begun discussing how to make the sextet's lives more interesting, as they have consumed all the grass in their run. This morning, Elaine had the idea of depositing a bale of straw inside the run.
So after I gathered the morning's eggs and cast about their daily treat of Cheerios, I hauled the straw inside the run. The chickens immediately left their cereal and raced toward the bale. Predictably, Ruby, who will hop up or fly onto anything, first flew up to the bale and soon all members of our flock were busily pulling and scratching at the bale.
We expect the entire mass of straw to be levelled in a day or two.
Now we are the proud owners of five egg bearing Rhode Island Red hens and their guardian Little Jerry. Recently we have begun discussing how to make the sextet's lives more interesting, as they have consumed all the grass in their run. This morning, Elaine had the idea of depositing a bale of straw inside the run.
So after I gathered the morning's eggs and cast about their daily treat of Cheerios, I hauled the straw inside the run. The chickens immediately left their cereal and raced toward the bale. Predictably, Ruby, who will hop up or fly onto anything, first flew up to the bale and soon all members of our flock were busily pulling and scratching at the bale.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
The Magic of Morning (Blog Sixty-three)
I have been mentoring beginning hunters this season and have really enjoyed not carrying a gun. This morning friend Doak Harbison and I arrived at a Franklin County winter rye field and watched the sun come up and the night creatures be replaced by those of the day - with some overlapping.
From before sunrise until 7:40, we listened as two great horned owls belted out their "hoo, hoo-hoo," continuing their contest concerning which was the most dominant until well over 30 minutes past sunrise. I found the verbal battle fascinating as I have infrequently heard the great horned continue so long past sunrise.
Of course, the reason for this duel is that the mating season is in full swing for this species. Egg laying can begin sometime in January, and the males obviously have to settle issues about mates and territories long before then.
Joining the owls in a cacophony of sound was a mob of crows which chose sunrise as the time to harass a hawk of an indeterminate species. The outcome was as it usually is in such matters, that is, more and more crows rushing to the hubbub, more and more raucous cawing, ended finally by the raptor taking wing for a quieter neighborhood. Of course, the hawk will likely be back tomorrow and the whole issue will have to be discussed anew, but not likely settled.
We went home without a deer, but the morning was a glorious and memorable one.
From before sunrise until 7:40, we listened as two great horned owls belted out their "hoo, hoo-hoo," continuing their contest concerning which was the most dominant until well over 30 minutes past sunrise. I found the verbal battle fascinating as I have infrequently heard the great horned continue so long past sunrise.
Of course, the reason for this duel is that the mating season is in full swing for this species. Egg laying can begin sometime in January, and the males obviously have to settle issues about mates and territories long before then.
Joining the owls in a cacophony of sound was a mob of crows which chose sunrise as the time to harass a hawk of an indeterminate species. The outcome was as it usually is in such matters, that is, more and more crows rushing to the hubbub, more and more raucous cawing, ended finally by the raptor taking wing for a quieter neighborhood. Of course, the hawk will likely be back tomorrow and the whole issue will have to be discussed anew, but not likely settled.
We went home without a deer, but the morning was a glorious and memorable one.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Two State Strike Out (Blog Sixty-two)
Every autumn, I seem to end up going afield in two states in the same day, and today was one of those days - indeed this was the second time this season it has taken place. Back in October, I went turkey hunting in West Virginia in the morning and bowhunting in Virginia in the evening. This act was fairly easy in that I went turkey hunting in Monroe County which borders Craig County where I went bowhunting.
That two-state adventure actually worked out quite well, as though I failed to kill a turkey in West Virginia, my friends and I did work a flock of jakes. And that evening, I killed a Craig County deer while bowhunting. So my success rate was an acceptable 50 percent. I have this dream of killing big game animals in two different states in the same day, but that accomplishment still eludes me - and today was no exception.
During my morning hunt in Carolina, I did not even see a deer. I then arrived home to see my favorite basketball teach, North Carolina, suffer a one-point defeat to Kentucky. Then I took my son Mark hunting with the hope that he would kill a deer. But as was the case in North Carolina, we did not even see a deer.
So my favorite basketball team lost and I drove several hundred miles through two states and never saw a deer - not a good day.
That two-state adventure actually worked out quite well, as though I failed to kill a turkey in West Virginia, my friends and I did work a flock of jakes. And that evening, I killed a Craig County deer while bowhunting. So my success rate was an acceptable 50 percent. I have this dream of killing big game animals in two different states in the same day, but that accomplishment still eludes me - and today was no exception.
During my morning hunt in Carolina, I did not even see a deer. I then arrived home to see my favorite basketball teach, North Carolina, suffer a one-point defeat to Kentucky. Then I took my son Mark hunting with the hope that he would kill a deer. But as was the case in North Carolina, we did not even see a deer.
So my favorite basketball team lost and I drove several hundred miles through two states and never saw a deer - not a good day.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Great Thanksgiving Hunting (Blog Sixty-one)
The hunting for my family and me could not have been any better on Thanksgiving Day. That morning, my son-in-law David found a deer that he had shot late Wednesday evening. Meanwhile I went fall turkey hunting on a Botetourt County farm where the landowner had assured me that I would be the only one afield. Normally, I don't like to turkey hunt on Thanksgiving Day given the fact that so many others will be deer hunting.
But since I had the farm to myself, I went out after turkeys and at 7:35 A.M., I called in and killed a jenny. Later that day my son Mark drove to a nearby Botetourt County farm, where the plan/hope was for only Mark to be hunting and for him to kill his first ever deer. At 4:55 that evening, Mark did just that, a very satisfying event for the both of us.
Elaine even was involved with the day's events. As she was assisting me in the cleaning of the turkey, I asked her if she would make me a river smallmouth-type fly out of one of the feathers - and that she include the fly in my Christmas stocking.
Who knows, maybe I will catch a smallmouth next summer with a fly made from a feather from a turkey killed on Thanksgiving morning. Again, what a memorable day.
But since I had the farm to myself, I went out after turkeys and at 7:35 A.M., I called in and killed a jenny. Later that day my son Mark drove to a nearby Botetourt County farm, where the plan/hope was for only Mark to be hunting and for him to kill his first ever deer. At 4:55 that evening, Mark did just that, a very satisfying event for the both of us.
Elaine even was involved with the day's events. As she was assisting me in the cleaning of the turkey, I asked her if she would make me a river smallmouth-type fly out of one of the feathers - and that she include the fly in my Christmas stocking.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Don't Hire Me as a Guide (Blog Sixty)
Every year, several individuals ask me if I can take them on a guided fishing or hunting trip. I think there are several reasons this happens. The first is that three of my four books on river smallmouth fishing have the word guide in them, and the second is that because I am an outdoor writer, I guess some people assume that I am a guide or that I can guide them to success.
Neither assumption is true. In fact, I have a terrible record as an informal guide on hunting trips with friends and family. Today, opening day of Virginia's firearms season, was a good example of why this is true.
This morning I took friend Doak Harbison on his first deer hunt. The outing was at a Franklin County farm where I typically see more deer and have more success than any other farm that I have permission to be afield on. Before sunrise, I brought Doak to a stand site that I had hunted twice last year and had killed deer there both times. Also, my son-in-law David had hunted there three times this year and last and had tagged does on two of those occasions.
Thus, I had taken Doak to a place where 80 percent of the time it had been hunted, a hunter had gone home successfully and 100 percent of the time deer had been spotted. Furthermore, the landowner had told me that locale was a hot one this year.
The result: Doak and I stayed on stand from before sunrise until around noon - a solid 5 1/2 hours - and never saw a deer...or a squirrel...or a game animal of any kind.
Again, don't hire me as a guide.
Neither assumption is true. In fact, I have a terrible record as an informal guide on hunting trips with friends and family. Today, opening day of Virginia's firearms season, was a good example of why this is true.
This morning I took friend Doak Harbison on his first deer hunt. The outing was at a Franklin County farm where I typically see more deer and have more success than any other farm that I have permission to be afield on. Before sunrise, I brought Doak to a stand site that I had hunted twice last year and had killed deer there both times. Also, my son-in-law David had hunted there three times this year and last and had tagged does on two of those occasions.
Thus, I had taken Doak to a place where 80 percent of the time it had been hunted, a hunter had gone home successfully and 100 percent of the time deer had been spotted. Furthermore, the landowner had told me that locale was a hot one this year.
The result: Doak and I stayed on stand from before sunrise until around noon - a solid 5 1/2 hours - and never saw a deer...or a squirrel...or a game animal of any kind.
Again, don't hire me as a guide.
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