When I was a kid we didn’t have feeders and such. But we’d hunt hell out of a salt lick or around the acorns in the oak mott, or a hole in the oat patch fence. smile


Founder
Ancient Order of the 1895 Winchester

"Come, shall we go and kill us venison?
And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools,
Being native burghers of this desert city,
Should in their own confines with forked heads
Have their round haunches gored."

WS