First off, in November, my friend Ralph brought his lovely to look at wife Char and came to spend Thanksgiving with us. The primal instinct runs deep in Ralph, to hunt and fish and provide for his family (and ours). We decided to see if we could go in search of, and to bag a turkey for dinner. With gun in hand he could be seen stealthily moving from machine to machine in one of my sheds. Then, almost as though by instinct alone, something caught his attention and he wheeled to his left and started to approach what seemed to be the best possible hiding place in the area for the wiley birds of which we were in search.
Fortunately the bird didn't flush as he drew down on the young tom. We were in luck. This one had a pop-up timer in it's breast. This comes from centuries of inbreeding I am told.
Nothing can ever take the place of that first picture of the hunter...and the hunted. Victory oh sweet victory.
I know it will be hard for some of you to understand the gravity of this moment. As nature speaks to the hunters, yea, those of us who provide for our families, we shall always go forth and provide.
Right after this picture was taken we cooked the turkey. Not some fancy 'deep fried' version, nope not us. (because I couldn't find my propane cylinder and the 100# bottles I did find wouldn't fit the cooker) So we had the women build a fire in the cook stove (turned the dial to 350 degrees) and we baked it. We may have over cooked it a bit. Our first indication of this came when we found the pop-up timer, popped-up and laying in the chest cavity of the bird.