Earth is in the midst of a climate crisis. Thanks to the way CO2 emissions have been rising rapidly since the early 20th century, global temperatures are rising, triggering a positive feedback cycle that threatens to make it worse. 676 more words
I don’t typically name wild animals. I steer clear from giving cute and sometimes fitting nicknames to any of the deer that I spot on my trail cameras. There’s no Goliath, Eight Ball, Slick, or Wide Nine. They’re simply deer. I have nothing against the practice. Lots of people do it. It’s just normally not my style. I said, “normally.”
A recent column I wrote was entitled, simply, “The Runt,” about a young buck that my dad and I frequently encountered some years back. He got a nickname. Another buck Dad gave a haircut to with his .303 was lovingly referred to as, “Scar,” for a while. There was the crow several years ago that had such a wheezing and deep caw that we wondered if he was a chain smoker. Today’s tale is about a hen turkey from the fall of 2020 which we called, “Hop-Along.”
Sometime during the first week of deer season in 2020, my dad and I got on the radios. This is something we do every few hours during the long day to give each other an update as to what we may have encountered, if only to break up the monotony. On this day, Dad reported that he saw a female turkey walking through the stand of hardwoods he was sitting in. This in itself is not an unusual occurrence. However, Dad said she had an extremely bad limp. It could have been that a coyote got a hold of her, or she got clipped by a car. Maybe a hunter’s pellets got into her leg earlier during turkey season. The good news was that she seemed to get along okay, just not as quickly as normal.
By the end of rifle season, we received a healthy dumping of snow. I was poking along, not far from where Dad spotted, “Hop-Along,” when I noticed a hen turkey standing on a rock that had protruded through the white stuff. She sat there; her eyes glued to my every step. I closed to within 15 yards before she “cut” at me and jumped off the rock. She limped for a few steps before taking flight. The majestic site of a large bird flying was also proof that Hop-Along had nothing wrong with her wings.
The following weekend was the muzzleloader opener. I was pushing through a stand of oaks when I caught movement on a hill off to my right. It was a turkey, feeding on the acorns. She took a few steps. It was Hop-Along. I watched her for about 15 minutes, amazed at her patience and diligence in searching for acorns. She was somewhat blocking the direction in which I had wanted to go. Reluctantly, I slowly headed in her direction, with an old stone wall separating us as I got to within 25 yards. Again, she cut at me, letting me know she was there, but she did not run off. Rather, she seemed resigned to my presence in the woods. It was as if we had become acquaintances, if not old friends. I moved along.
I do not know whatever happened to Hop-Along. I did not encounter her this past season. Part of me is concerned she couldn’t get through last winter. However, I am grateful that I was able to spend a couple of glorious mornings in the woods with her, one of the few wild creatures to get a name from me. She deserves that.
The D-Day Invasion of Normandy on June 6, 1944, was an immense undertaking involving nearly 6,939 Allied ships, 11,590 aircraft, and 156,000 troops. The military term “D-Day” refers to the day when a combat operation is to start, and “H-hour” is the exact time the operation commences. 9 more words
As a Canadian, I have often wondered why cranberries feature prominently in a number of recipes whose origins are attributed to Cape Cod. However, I recently learned that the majority of the United States’ approximately 1,100 cranberry farms are concentrated in Massachusetts (Cape Cod’s state) and Wisconsin (by comparison most Canadian commercial cranberry operations are in Quebec and British Columbia). These meatballs are based on a classic treat that’s been served up at cocktail parties decades, although I’ve taken a little liberty with the traditional recipe handed to me by a lifelong Cape Codder to reflect my preference for a less sweet and slightly spicier dish. You can serve the meatballs ‘as is’ with toothpicks for snacking, or spoon them and the sauce over rice to turn it into an easy and delicious meal.
The murder of Jayna Murray, also known as the Lululemon Murder, occurred on March 11, 2011 at a Lululemon store in Bethesda, Maryland. After a long investigation and a search for suspects, it was determined that Jayna was murdered by her fellow coworker Brittany Norwood, who later staged the crime scene.
Jayna Murray was a 30 year old woman who was born in Kansas and grew up in Texas. She was said to be extremely kind and liked by those around her. Jayna was also incredibly adventurous and traveled all around the world throughout her life. At the time of her murder, she was in school working toward getting her degree.
Jayna Murray
Brittany Norwood was 28 years old at the time of the incident. She was born and raised in Seattle, Washington and was said to be very intelligent and athletic. However, she had some issues growing up that…
Welcome to my personal rant that gets me fired up traveling to and from work, and really, anywhere in between. I struggle with other people sharing my roadways. Thanks Dad! In an effort to not take part in a road rage incident, I’ve decided to express my frustrations in a healthier manner. Right here. For you.
Person A: You won’t be happy until you are the only person driving out there.
Me: How do we make that happen?
Offense: Stopping traffic to let more than three people out
Tip: Only allow one person out into traffic
I get it, especially this time of year. You know, the giving and all. But do we really need to force traffic to come to a screeching halt to let an entire county full of drivers out of an intersection and into our lane of traffic? Wouldn’t letting one car out be enough to keep us on the good list? And what if they’re pulling into traffic and going in the OPPOSITE direction we are going? Now, the drivers coming from that direction feel obligated to stop, as well. I’m not going to be THAT guy and not stop. So now, we are all at a standstill because someone is trying to make amends for past sins and feels it necessary to be extra, extra friendly to strangers.