Archive for the ‘hunting’ Tag

10-15-2015 Journal–Off to the Woods!   Leave a comment

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Well, it’s the Ides of October already. Winter will be on us shortly and most of our preparations has been completed already.  I decided to take a deep breath today and walk for an hour or so through the woods, specifically in a non-hunting area.  I’d prefer not to end up tied to the fender of some drunken hunter’s car who swears up and down I looked like a deer.

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The trees are beginning to turn colors and we’re just a couple of weeks from seeing them at their peak. I drove to an area just south of the Great Scarborough Marsh located adjacent to the Atlantic ocean.  Most of the birds have headed south already but I did notice a few egrets doing some serious feeding before their trip begins.

The milkweed pods have opened and are spreading seeds everywhere. Next year should be a good one for those plants and the Monarch butterflies that love them so much.

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The remaining birds are feasting on berries of all sorts.  This area is covered with all manner of them and that tends to keep the birds hanging around until the snow begins to fly.

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I returned home feeling a lot calmer and at ease. Communing with good old Mother Nature always has that effect on me.  One last thing for you today. The Disk Network Memorial Table that I’ve been yacking about for weeks has finally been completed . . .  thank God!

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It’s felt good to finally get something in return from a cable TV company other than just one more rate increase or surcharge.

THANKS DISH

09-23-2015 Journal–Snow, Sleet, & Ice!   Leave a comment

I always seem to be talking about Winter approaching these days and with good reason.  Winter in Maine lasts at least six months but it certainly seems longer. Just two weeks ago I was sleeping under a ceiling fan for eight hours a night because it was so damn hot and humid in the house. At the time I thought that miserable hot weather would never let up.  Let me tell you, it’s let up.

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‘Ahhhh Memories’

As of last night I’m convinced Winter is much closer than I thought. The last few nights we’ve  had temperatures in the low forties which are wreaking havoc on what remains of the garden.  I was reminded early this morning when the cold air in the room jolted me awake.  Last night was the first official #5 night for my electric blanket. Unless some sort of Indian Summer happens it could mean an early arrival of the season which includes an unwelcome amount of our favorite white stuff.

Fall is probably my second favorite season of the year after early Spring.  I love the vivid colors of the foliage just like every other photographer on the planet. Maine is already known for it’s beautiful scenery along the coast and inland in the forests and around the many lakes.  Throw in millions and millions of colorful leaves and it becomes for a short time an effing paradise.

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My cameras and lenses are cleaned and ready. My snowblower’ been taken out of mothballs, gassed up, and ready to go. All that’s left for me to do is the unpacking of my unfashionable and ugly winter clothing.  It’s almost impossible to look good wearing three layers of clothing, a hat, gloves, a scarf, and big clunky boots. . . and unfortunately I’m just talking about the women. The men look even worse as they let their beards grow out and suit up with their favorite snowmobiling outfit.  There’s nothing better than hanging around an ice fishing hut with a few of your buddies telling tall tales about fishing, hunting, and sexual prowess and guzzling as much  beer as you can drink.

The never-ending number of hunting seasons always irritates me a little.  There are times when entering the woods around here to take pictures can be a life threatening situation. If you not wearing bright red or fluorescent green you could easily be mistaken for a moose, a turkey, or even a cow.  It’s a little like Vietnam out there if you throw in a few cases of beer to make things interesting. Scary doesn’t even begin to cover it.

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As you can see from my remarks, I’m neither a hunter nor a fisherman. I’ve never been all that crazy about killing helpless animals with high powered weaponry and high tech fishing paraphernalia.  I prefer to do all of my shooting with a camera. I also hate the thought of eating wild game thanks to my father who insisted I try to eat a little of everything he ever shot. Yuck!

Time to Crank up the electric blanket and hunker down for another six months of snow, sleet, and ice.  I only hope I don’t slip and fall this year and break any additional bones. Trust me, it’s happened before.

12-21-2012   2 comments

Three more shopping days till Christmas. With that in mind I’d like to explain a few unforeseen consequences of living in Maine at this time of the year.  This state teems with thousands of great white hunters who like nothing better than combing the woods in an attempt to kill something and eat it.  As you can tell, I’m no hunter.  I was born and raised in an area much like Maine, western Pennsylvania, where hunting is considered something of a religious experience.  Most of my family were hunters and the king of all hunting was my father. Thank God for my nephew who took my place at an early age to accompany my dad on his hunting forays.  I could never see the point since the taste of wild game just didn’t appeal to me.

At this time of the year the exchange of gifts is a tradition but in Maine it takes an unusual turn. Some of our more common Christmas gifts are cheese logs, meat logs, and moose logs. Nothing says Christmas like a twenty pound package of moose meat or squirrel filets but it still creeps me out just talking about them.  A few weeks ago in an attempt to find other unique and delicious Maine specialties, I instead found these.

Beaver Butt Pie

All that you’ll need to get started with this nutritious and holiday related meal is a big fat beaver willing to give up his paddle and his innards. Simply lay the beaver paddle on the bottom of a pie shell, cover it with the preheated and stinky  innards, sprinkle some brown sugar on top,  and bake in an preheated oven at 350-degrees for 45 minutes. Add some fragrant pine fronds and a nice red Christmas ribbon and there you go. Ready for the family table.

Teriyaki Marinated Moose Lips

What could be more festive than cooking a bag of moose lips on the grill with a light snow falling in the moonlight.  All you need to prepare moose lips are a dozen pair of lips, ordered from Amazon, two quarts of teriyaki sauce, and a hot and ready grill. Roast and season to taste.  It’s a  Christmassy lip-smacking snack to munch on as you watch the annual showing of “A Christmas Story”.

Coyote Sauce

Imported Maine coyote is a local delicacy but available now through internet sites for a pittance. If your outdoorsy all you need is a .22 rifle, a little patience, and BANG. Add a little gelatin to the broth that you cooked the coyote in and Well-La, the perfect addition to a Christmas turkey dinner as a side dish to replace cranberry sauce.

I know your mouths must be watering after reading and picturing these Maine delicacies but never fear, maybe next year some of our northernmost citizens will make all of these meals available through mail order for you to enjoy with your loved ones.  You may not be able to visit Maine but we can bring the true Maine holiday spirit right to your door for a modest price.  It’s only right that we share our overabundance of critters with as many people as possible.  Also, we can use the money.

Bon Appetite  and Merry Christmas

(Sarcasm Off)

Posted December 22, 2012 by Every Useless Thing in Humor

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11-03-2012 (2)   2 comments

Today has been a relaxing and nice day. I accomplished more than I was anticipating which is always a pleasant surprise. I attempted to take a short walk earlier but good sense prevailed. I’ve never seen so many hunters in our area before. Cars are parked along the roads and the poor hunters must be having a terrible time of it. I haven’t heard a single gun shot all day which isn’t a good sign for them.

I’ve never been much of a hunter but I come from a family who celebrated deer hunting season like it was a religious holiday. In western Pennsylvania the schools are virtually empty on the first day of deer season and students aren’t even penalized for missing classes.

My father made his pilgrimage to the wilds of northern PA every year for a week of male bonding with his buddies, some good camp chili, a keg of beer, and if they were lucky a couple of deer corpses. I was invited once when I was a teenager but declined for ever after. I just never saw the point. From that day forward I was officially an outcast from all hunting discussions and related war stories at our family gatherings. Thank God my nephew Mike loved hunting and was able to join my father and the boys on their annual safari and I was forever off the hook.

I was reintroduced to the lifestyle of the hunter about five minutes after I arrived in Maine with my moving van. I stopped to gas up the U-Haul and when I walked into the gas station the first thing I saw were hundreds of photo’s tacked to the walls of customers with their deer kill. The owner saw me looking and I had to smile nicely and listen to his favorite deer killing saga with him directing me to the appropriate photo of him in his camo outfit.

This indoctrination continued nonstop for quite a few years until I finally gave up the fight. I still refuse to hunt but I can now talk about it up with best of them. My dad would have been so proud.

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