"The Twelve Days of Christmas", an ancient English Christmas carol, enumerates a series of increasingly grand gifts given on each of the twelve days of Christmas.
It's a lovely tune the ranch hand has never hesitated to make up words for since he is too dumb to remember the actual "stuff"?
However, the fact that most Christians don't actually celebrate twelve days of the commercialized version of Christmas is a blessing highly appreciated by this ole fat boy.
The reasons:
1. Ya wanna see a grown man break out in a cold sweat and quiver?
2. Ya wanna see a confused guy wondering from aisle to aisle mumblin' to his own self while doin' prolific eyeball rollin'?
....then just watch your humble blogger doing holiday "shopping".
Said shopping confusion most likely resembles a passage written by Dr. Seuss:
"And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore."
Oh for the days when an upstanding magi had only to stop by the local gold, frankincense, and myrrh shop for gift purchases.
Surely life was simpler?
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Sunday, November 4, 2012
THE COUGH
Easing thru the smooth dark velvet of pre-dawn darkness this morn was punctuated by the soft hooting of the ranch's resident owl in a distant tree. Plaintive in its call, but determined, the raptor continued its serenade till the sun rose thru a pink cascade of eastern sky.
A doe and her male fawn browsed along savoring the bounty of acorns and green fodder on the east pasture carpet. The nubbin buck proudly displayed its fur covered "bump" antlers as nobly as the trophy it may one day become (while occasionally visiting mama to nurse again).
The sudden bray of a neighbor's donkey gave no cause of concern to the casual diners. However, the unavoidable COUGH of your humble scribe set the duo on immediate guard as the doe began to loudly stamp her front hooves! This warning display continued for many minutes until she was satisfied the old fat man in the tree was a harmless doofus.
Next, a two year old six point buck slowly cruised from the surrounding brush and began his stalk of the doe....no doubt with romantic notions abloom?
Twenty minutes of fruitless pursuit continued until the young buck finally exited to find other, more amorous potential mates.
No venison collected on the Tin Star this second day of the season, but who cares?? Life is GREAT!
A doe and her male fawn browsed along savoring the bounty of acorns and green fodder on the east pasture carpet. The nubbin buck proudly displayed its fur covered "bump" antlers as nobly as the trophy it may one day become (while occasionally visiting mama to nurse again).
The sudden bray of a neighbor's donkey gave no cause of concern to the casual diners. However, the unavoidable COUGH of your humble scribe set the duo on immediate guard as the doe began to loudly stamp her front hooves! This warning display continued for many minutes until she was satisfied the old fat man in the tree was a harmless doofus.
Next, a two year old six point buck slowly cruised from the surrounding brush and began his stalk of the doe....no doubt with romantic notions abloom?
Twenty minutes of fruitless pursuit continued until the young buck finally exited to find other, more amorous potential mates.
No venison collected on the Tin Star this second day of the season, but who cares?? Life is GREAT!
Saturday, November 3, 2012
THE BIG BUCK
The 2012 Texas deer season was officially announced this fine morn by the chatter of the ranch corn feeder spraying its golden morsels about as homage to the woodland creature dietary desires.
Likely, only life-long deer hunters can best appreciate the shear beauty of an "opening morning" with its stirring of resident varmits inspired by the timid initial face of Ole Sol peeking over the east horizon?
This morn found The old fat boy perched in his elevated deer condo adjacent to the barn in the north extremity of the ranch.
Just the faintest hint of cool breeze stirred to move the early cool velvet pre-dawn. Without doubt, there was the hint of "promise" in the air.
After about 45 minutes, a stately doe casually sauntered from one oak tree to the other solemnly munching on the acorn protein bounty. Solitary in her lone appearance, but appreciated as our first "visitor".
Near 8:30, movement on the back fence line proved to be a magnificent male of the species. Heavy in body, magnificent in antlered glory.
Alas, after a brief peek-a-boo in and out of the trees, Senior Horns faded into the brush of the neighboring ranch.
What a wonderful "opening morning"!!!!! The privilege of watching our Master's handiwork awakening the day, seeing His creations at peace on the land, and that always special adrenaline thrill of seeing THE BIG BUCK.
Life is good.
Likely, only life-long deer hunters can best appreciate the shear beauty of an "opening morning" with its stirring of resident varmits inspired by the timid initial face of Ole Sol peeking over the east horizon?
This morn found The old fat boy perched in his elevated deer condo adjacent to the barn in the north extremity of the ranch.
Just the faintest hint of cool breeze stirred to move the early cool velvet pre-dawn. Without doubt, there was the hint of "promise" in the air.
After about 45 minutes, a stately doe casually sauntered from one oak tree to the other solemnly munching on the acorn protein bounty. Solitary in her lone appearance, but appreciated as our first "visitor".
Near 8:30, movement on the back fence line proved to be a magnificent male of the species. Heavy in body, magnificent in antlered glory.
Alas, after a brief peek-a-boo in and out of the trees, Senior Horns faded into the brush of the neighboring ranch.
What a wonderful "opening morning"!!!!! The privilege of watching our Master's handiwork awakening the day, seeing His creations at peace on the land, and that always special adrenaline thrill of seeing THE BIG BUCK.
Life is good.
Friday, November 2, 2012
The Process
Tomorrow's timid dawning will initiate the 42nd opening morning of participating in Texas deer season for the ole fat boy.
The early years were mostly "guessing" as to what to do, look for, or whatever?
No one in the ranch hand's family were deer hunters (since there were no deer in Wright City) and therefore the neophyte's knowledge was mostly gleaned from Field and Stream magazines.
Imagine your humble scribe's befuddled manner on the occasion of his first acquistition of a walking smoked sausage venison donor? Yep, no clue as to how to get what was inside...outside...and thus prepare for "processing" future protein accoutrements???
Well, it got muddled through and after harvesting likely more than 50 of them varmits over the past decades...the only "thrill" left is the "process". Watching the ruminants all year, feeding them groceries, following their woodland trails, photographing their antics, and generally enjoying the "process" of deer hunting is where the genuine pleasure lies.
Course, that smoked jalapeno/cheese reindeer hot gut and chicken fried backstrap is a bit of an incentive without compare!
The early years were mostly "guessing" as to what to do, look for, or whatever?
No one in the ranch hand's family were deer hunters (since there were no deer in Wright City) and therefore the neophyte's knowledge was mostly gleaned from Field and Stream magazines.
Imagine your humble scribe's befuddled manner on the occasion of his first acquistition of a walking smoked sausage venison donor? Yep, no clue as to how to get what was inside...outside...and thus prepare for "processing" future protein accoutrements???
Well, it got muddled through and after harvesting likely more than 50 of them varmits over the past decades...the only "thrill" left is the "process". Watching the ruminants all year, feeding them groceries, following their woodland trails, photographing their antics, and generally enjoying the "process" of deer hunting is where the genuine pleasure lies.
Course, that smoked jalapeno/cheese reindeer hot gut and chicken fried backstrap is a bit of an incentive without compare!
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