Monday, May 28, 2018
A Duck in Time
As another Lame Cherry exclusive in matter anti matter.
I was watching ducks light on a slough tonight. Actually I have been watching them for some time.
I noticed how different I am from TL as the things I see, and the things TL is starting to see, as TL becomes country and less and less metro. Often times TL sees things I am not aware of now, but I still like watching ducks decoy in to light into a slough in standing corn.
It would be easy to grass them, but after all this chit on this blog, I am not really interested in hunting them, even if I could afford the 100 dollar license. I do love eating wild duck though, all wild game really, as I was raised on the stuff, and I miss it a great deal.
My brother was back and did some goose hunting and got a pair. He is a very good goose hunter. He talks their language and they decoy in. Someday I told him that we were going along, so TL could watch the show.
I like watching my brother shoot geese as he is a very good shot. The speed on the new waterfowl loads have increased now by almost 100 fps. I remember when 1200 fps was a fast load, and you had to worry about blowing patterns due to the speed, but now they are loading them to 140 feet per second, and it almost obliterates the need for lead like the old lead loads used to have.running around 1000 fps on a good Super X Winchester day.
My Uncle was the best shot I have saw. He rarely missed as does my brother. I am pretty good, but my Grandpa with his Marlin pump in 12 gauge could out shoot everyone.
I do like watching ducks decoy, especially northern mallards.
You can tell a lot about them as they set wing and are down before you blink. Most Canadian ducks swing sloughs endlessly as they get shot at from Flin Flon to the Bayou on the Mississippi. These ducks though were setting wing and piling in, much to my delight. It would be an easy sneak, the hardest part would be wading through the thick as grass corn, but putting the sneak on and it would be duck for supper.
The flyways have all changed and so have the duck numbers with Monsanto corn and beans. I remember funnels of ducks like the Wizard of Oz tornado when I was a child. That is all gone now. It is fortunate now to see a hundred ducks piling in somewhere. I miss jump shooting ducks on ponds. I never was much about hunting, but more about bringing home things to eat
I love eating duck. Northern Mallard, Wood Duck, Black Duck, Pintails and I leave it off there as Gadwalls and Wigeons you get one good duck in 10, and Teal are so tiny, that the rest of the brood is not worth killing as there is not any sense in killing things that you frown at in eating. I used to collect some Bluebills or Scaup late in the season, but that is like the Dodo now in they have flown to better waters.
I shot a few coot once after reading in an outdoor magazine you could eat them. They got some disease awhile back and all died out like Brandt. A baked coot with bacon on it, tastes like hot smoked carp or snails. I will never repeat that escargot dining again.
This blog makes me miss things, as that is all I do in chasing donations and posting the things God moves me to. I get reminded when my brother is here and he goes scouting for birds how much I miss it and like it. Tonight we had 4 deer, that doe and her two fawns and another one standing and watching us on our walk, before they popped into the trees. They know us better than we know ourselves. I love watching them and enjoy figuring out my apples all disappeared this year as they ate them all. Last year it was the pumpkins and beets.
I think them corn companies in their genetics have got their heads out of their asses in flavor now, as this year I have been watching the robins, bluejays, blackbirds and things pecking the ends of the corn bare on the cob. They have not done that for a decade. Maybe that Monsanto corn doesn't taste like fuel oil any more, as those ducks are sure piling into that slough for feed, and all that is around there is corn, as the duck weeds are all gone.
The guy who owns the land is a Snowbird. His wife died this past winter. Have not seen him around all year. He used to tell us about some Mexican waitress he liked. Probably hooked up with her and does not miss his fat wife. He lived on the road over here last year, and now it is just his no hunting signs and the ducks, but they don't need protection as no one hunts waterfowl any more as it is too expensive and no one likes the taste of duck or goose.
My brother makes jerky out of the geese sometimes. Pepper stick goose. It ain't bed, but them nitrites still do not agree with yours truly.
I don't write a great deal about the things that matter any more, not like the blog when it began. Before I was popular and a celebrity. I never chased fame and have not found fortune yet, or more to the point rich people for the most part are not bright enough to know how to click a donate button and turn over what their life is worth to them. I have nothing inside of me that feeds off of attention and adoration as most people have. I sit here typing thinking about that mouse I set a trap for tonight and how much I would love to be out just watching those ducks puddle in that slough, as if I never had anyone looking at La'me Cherry again, it would be nothing I would miss.
What makes my heart beat is the thought of the scents of autumn, a brown duck canvas coat, a puppy intent on what we are hunting, an old shotgun with stories to tell, TL experiencing it, and those ducks screwing around like they always do. Except for eating them and having something for a dog to retrieve as that is what they live for, I could just back away quietly after a stalk and make that my hunt in leaving them to live a better life than I have or ever had.
Well, that is about enough of this meandering trail through the recesses of my mind, as I hear a story calling about something this night of October 18th. October is almost shot in the ass, and when you read this it will be already gone. So much time wasted on what does not matter in the filth of this world.
The thing I take with me this day is God giving me those ducks to watch alighting on a slough and digging potatoes which did not produce in the drought, and a kitty coming down to keep me company, playing with potatoes, making happy sounds and relishing me petting his tummy.