It's been 10 years - 08/31/14
I started my weblog 10 years ago. My first post is from Aug 30, 2004. Back then, I had just heard about blogging. It was all new to me. I had been self-publishing and helping others self-publish electronically for years. This was wholly different. It was more like writing in a diary and having the whole world read it.
Back 10 years ago, Mooseboy had yet to take his first deer and Angus was still too small to pick up a rifle. We were still settling into a life of perpetual deer camp. Sure, it was not all idyllic, but it beat going to soccer and hanging out at the mall. If anything, Genesis 9:2-4 Ministries has documented a man's investigation into the premise that the only thing better than a successful hunt is helping your children be successful hunters. I am here to declare the premise is true.
We had done a lot of work fixing up the farm a decade ago, but there were still a lot of projects ahead. We finished off siding the last shed in 2005 and immediately started repairing the stuff that was starting to fall apart. It never ends.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped being a beginning deer hunter. I don't know quite when it happened, but I will admit to anyone the first decade or so of my deer hunting career was on the steep front side of the learning curve. With turkey hunting, I will always be a beginner.
I grew up the son of a semi-retired builder. Dad kept the last 72 units he built and managed them. I have now been on our farm for 13 years. I am now hunting the 4th, 5th or 6th generations of the deer and turkey that constituted the land's original tenants. Let me just express the glee of a landlord's son being able to hunt the tenants, their children, and grandchildren without reproach. Dad would be proud.
Ten years ago I had reached the peak of my career. There was a lot going on, and there was a lot of stress. I needed to get to camp every weekend to unwind. Within a few years, the solder factory was sold, I was unemployed and there was nothing to unwind from. Friday nights were getting to be like every other night of the week. Today, I am happily back in the saddle, and it feels good to crawl into the Thoughtful Spot pour a scotch and peer out into deepening gloom of a Friday evening and know it was all worth something.
Ten years ago, I had not introduced my friends Pooh, Nosmo, Chin, and the rest to y'all. Now that I look back on it, I was probably still mourning. For you see, the shamanic entourage had followed me from my days editing the Black Hole Literary Review. I had met a truly wonderful mind (albeit a tad schizophrenic) in a personage known as the MadHatter. 'Hatter was a retired DARPA employee best known for his work on the M1 Abrams. Something went a bit odd in 'Hatter's mind (his real name was Stuart) and he began having long spiritual conversations with himself and his pantheon of invisible friends. When I started the Black Hole Literary Review in 1989, I invited MadHatter to be a sort of intellectual recluse-in-residence , and he was a huge draw. He was wonderfully entertaining, spiritually insightful, and (sort of as an aside) completely nuts. When MadHatter left for other planes of existence, I think he willed me his invisible friends. It took several years for me to acknowledge that fact, but I hope you will agree that having invisible friends can be a sane thing. You do agree, right? For the most part, I have kept them out of my weblog, partly because I need a place where I can be away from them lest I wind up like MadHatter.
Also, I have a wonderful pantheon of friends from the neighborhood around camp to keep me amused. In typical form for Kentucky, they all seem to be related. You have O.T., my buddy that runs the mower shop. O.D. is O.T.'s brother and we often meet up at the store. They have in turned me on to O.G. , O.C., O.P. and of course, Darrell who I hardly ever mention since he has not said all that much since he came back from the Army.
I also cannot go without thanking Scooter, our intern at the Black Hole Institute of Wildlife Studies, who came to us as an orphan and worked summers at the Deer and Deer Hunting Pro-Staffer's Lodge. He has sacrificed so much to help in our studies of the effect of Daylight Savings Time on deer and turkey.
Most of all, I want to thank you guys. I was looking over the stats today and more people come from the 24HourCampfire to read my stuff than anywhere else except the Japanese housewives who Google "How do you take a turkey's temperature"
every Thanksgiving and get my entry that includes the instructions:
. . .this is usually done by first pushing his head down with your left hand and then bringing the tail up with the right. Put the neck firmly under your left boot. Use the pressure of your boot on his neck to encourage compliance. Now take the thermometer, well lubricated with Vaseline and place it. . .
. . . by the way, watch out for the spurs. They�re nasty.
Back 10 years ago, Mooseboy had yet to take his first deer and Angus was still too small to pick up a rifle. We were still settling into a life of perpetual deer camp. Sure, it was not all idyllic, but it beat going to soccer and hanging out at the mall. If anything, Genesis 9:2-4 Ministries has documented a man's investigation into the premise that the only thing better than a successful hunt is helping your children be successful hunters. I am here to declare the premise is true.
We had done a lot of work fixing up the farm a decade ago, but there were still a lot of projects ahead. We finished off siding the last shed in 2005 and immediately started repairing the stuff that was starting to fall apart. It never ends.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped being a beginning deer hunter. I don't know quite when it happened, but I will admit to anyone the first decade or so of my deer hunting career was on the steep front side of the learning curve. With turkey hunting, I will always be a beginner.
I grew up the son of a semi-retired builder. Dad kept the last 72 units he built and managed them. I have now been on our farm for 13 years. I am now hunting the 4th, 5th or 6th generations of the deer and turkey that constituted the land's original tenants. Let me just express the glee of a landlord's son being able to hunt the tenants, their children, and grandchildren without reproach. Dad would be proud.
Ten years ago I had reached the peak of my career. There was a lot going on, and there was a lot of stress. I needed to get to camp every weekend to unwind. Within a few years, the solder factory was sold, I was unemployed and there was nothing to unwind from. Friday nights were getting to be like every other night of the week. Today, I am happily back in the saddle, and it feels good to crawl into the Thoughtful Spot pour a scotch and peer out into deepening gloom of a Friday evening and know it was all worth something.
Ten years ago, I had not introduced my friends Pooh, Nosmo, Chin, and the rest to y'all. Now that I look back on it, I was probably still mourning. For you see, the shamanic entourage had followed me from my days editing the Black Hole Literary Review. I had met a truly wonderful mind (albeit a tad schizophrenic) in a personage known as the MadHatter. 'Hatter was a retired DARPA employee best known for his work on the M1 Abrams. Something went a bit odd in 'Hatter's mind (his real name was Stuart) and he began having long spiritual conversations with himself and his pantheon of invisible friends. When I started the Black Hole Literary Review in 1989, I invited MadHatter to be a sort of intellectual recluse-in-residence , and he was a huge draw. He was wonderfully entertaining, spiritually insightful, and (sort of as an aside) completely nuts. When MadHatter left for other planes of existence, I think he willed me his invisible friends. It took several years for me to acknowledge that fact, but I hope you will agree that having invisible friends can be a sane thing. You do agree, right? For the most part, I have kept them out of my weblog, partly because I need a place where I can be away from them lest I wind up like MadHatter.
Also, I have a wonderful pantheon of friends from the neighborhood around camp to keep me amused. In typical form for Kentucky, they all seem to be related. You have O.T., my buddy that runs the mower shop. O.D. is O.T.'s brother and we often meet up at the store. They have in turned me on to O.G. , O.C., O.P. and of course, Darrell who I hardly ever mention since he has not said all that much since he came back from the Army.
I also cannot go without thanking Scooter, our intern at the Black Hole Institute of Wildlife Studies, who came to us as an orphan and worked summers at the Deer and Deer Hunting Pro-Staffer's Lodge. He has sacrificed so much to help in our studies of the effect of Daylight Savings Time on deer and turkey.
Most of all, I want to thank you guys. I was looking over the stats today and more people come from the 24HourCampfire to read my stuff than anywhere else except the Japanese housewives who Google "How do you take a turkey's temperature"
every Thanksgiving and get my entry that includes the instructions:
Quote
. . .this is usually done by first pushing his head down with your left hand and then bringing the tail up with the right. Put the neck firmly under your left boot. Use the pressure of your boot on his neck to encourage compliance. Now take the thermometer, well lubricated with Vaseline and place it. . .
. . . by the way, watch out for the spurs. They�re nasty.