Because you have not lived until you’ve spit out a little ammo at the supper table!
My Dad is a hunter. Years ago, he primarily hunted ducks and geese. Also many years ago, he and my husband took a trip to South Dakota:
Husband Father
The scene of the harvest in this mid ‘80s South Dakota picture, heads draped over the edge of the tailgate, is a familiar one to me. I remember being young, maybe 8 or 9, and taking a long time to get up the nerve to go TOUCH one of the lined-up fowl. Of course, at least in my memory, it is dark in the driveway. Very dark. No starlight, no moon, no nothing. Just a tailgate full of dead ducks, and for whatever reason I had myself convinced that if I were brave, I would go touch one. Laura Ingalls wouldn’t be afraid to touch one. [Read More…]
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