First Encounter of the Skunk Kind

Skunk Tail

No question, about it.  Robin, having grown up on a farm, and learning all the skills that came with it, was nothing short of an expert marksman.  This wasn’t just with firearms.  Robin could hit a can off a fence from all the way across the field throwin’ a rock free handed.

Mike and Rob were off on one of their regular squirrel hunts, each with their safeties on, and their shotguns slanting to the ground as they’d been taught.  Normally, they’d head out the back pasture behind Robin’s farm.  Today, however, they chose to meander up the dirt road that ran in front of Rob’s house.

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This post was submitted by Mike Strong.

Butt Whoopin’ Wit a Machete

JasonPaddle

Way back ’round ’bout nineteen hunderd an eighty my 7 year ol’ sista and me was visiting my grandpaw’s place up in Zwolle, LA . He lived right on the Sabine River in the Ammons Airpark.  We used to fly our little Cessna 172 into his property and hang out for the weekend or upwards of two weeks in the summer.

Anyway, my grandpa had about two acres with grapes and pigs and chickens and honey bees and plum trees and watermelons and really sharp axes and machetes.  Really sharp. Like shave a baby’s butt sharp.

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This post was submitted by Wes Schaeffer.

Sod Huts in North Dakota

Speaking of snakes, …

My paternal grandfather (the man who taught me my first cuss words – never mind which ones!).   He was born in mid-winter in a sod hut on the North Dakota prairie. It was so cold the local rattlesnakes would crawl in and shelter up in the rafters holding up the sod roof.  Everyone got along fine except for the rare instance one of the snakes rolled over in its sleep and fell to the floor.

Rich Pedersen – Stuyvesant Town, New York

This post was submitted by Rich Pedersen.