Tuesday, December 07, 2010
Tales of Turkey Tails
JB is right proud of its 27" spread and 11" beard. He says the tom was about four years old. When we colored turkey tails in country school, we used bright colors. Brown would have been boring, but whoever instigated colors must have had a parrot.
I don't hunt. I can't with my fingers in my ears, and I'm not that fond of potted meat and vienna sausage. They did take a kettle of my homemade venison chili with last week and brought it back empty. Dare I assume they ate it?
I asked JB, "What's the difference between deer and turkey hunting?"
He rolled his eyes and looked exasperated, "Well, they're just different."
"Uh huh. Could you be specific; I'm trying to write about it."
"We hunt deer from a stand and turkey from a ground blind with a turkey caller."
Now I remember his son is a super turkey caller.
"Thanks." I know that's all I'm going to get.
After several days in the woods without a bath, one of the guys told JB the scent block on his clothes wasn't working. Imagine that. I believe playing in the woods is primarily to avoid a bath, see how muddy they and their vehicle can get, whose vehicle can go the furthest before getting stuck, contesting who is the best shot, maybe getting game and who can tell the tallest tales. They say they are having a ball. I am officially a Mississippi woman: weekends to myself.
One of our friends was an avid turkey hunter. Proud of his trophy wall mount, he was stunned to find the tail tips missing. This is sacred territory. DO NOT TOUCH! Well, one of his kids needed something for nature day, snipped them off and sewed them on her shirt.
There's something about men and game. LBJ asked to have his picture taken beside a 6' Marlin when we were in Mexico. He showed it at home and everyone assumed he'd caught it. In the same manner, JB could claim the turkey tail, but he admits he found it in on the curb and rescued it from a divorce or vicious house cleaner.
2010 Red Convertible Travel Series