My sister owned a duck hunting cabin over in Minnesota inherited from her late husband. Sis didn't hunt, so I asked her if I could use the cabin with some hunting buddies for the opening of duck season? Holy smokes what a paradise for ducks! Shallow 300 acre lake with two reed islands and wild rice and farm land all around. Sis had the only place on the lake and there were boats and duck skiffs and dozens of decoys out in the shed. Six of us went over there and made friends with the subsistence farmer who owned part of the farm land. We sure liked duck hunting, but duck cleaning and duck eating, not so much. The farmer said that they loved duck, but never had the time to hunt them. Perfect, they would take all we brought them. Opening Saturday we were all scattered around the lake and the hunting was great. Ducks were flying and when we all joined up for breakfast we were over the limit. We put the ducks in the garage intending to bring them over to the farmer after breakfast. One of the guys was doing the breakfast dishes and looked out the window and said guys we are busted, here comes the game warden with a flashing blue light. Gulp, we were all ready to line up outside hands against the wall spread eagle. Just then the guy gets out of his car and it's the mailman! Scared straight from then on.
