From the tree line comes intermittent, stabby bursts of gobbling. Wild turkeys. The boys are very high on hormones (just ask my truck) and looking for love. The females are busy eating the newly hatched bugs and will take a lot of convincing. The gobbling is quite distracting (and funny) and it reminds me of when I had two young female turkeys here on the farm. One disappeared early on but the other, Pam, stuck around. She fell madly in love with StuntManNate and would haunt him on the regular. He would look up while doing the dishes or making himself something to eat and there she’d be, standing on top of the barbeque, staring at him through the kitchen window, her beady eyes following his every move. Oftentimes he’d go out to his truck to go someplace and she’d be waiting for him, her huge fluffy, white bulk balanced on top of his side view mirror. Her affection scorned by freaked-out Nate, Pam eventually fell in with the wild turkeys who hung out in the treeline of the forest. I was happy for her. She’d come home at dawn like a flapper doing the bold “walk of shame” back from some late night booze orgy, her dress damp and muddy, head high and proud in defiance. She’d go to the coop, eat, then go back to the woods with her pals. In grand fairytale style she was eventually eaten by some sly fox. All that was left of her was some black and white, feathery flapper trim floating atop the grass… At least she lived it up before her time came. Raise a chilled flute of Moet & Chandon to Pam. She was a grand little dame.
Right. Thank you for accompanying me on my little walk down memory lane. I thought this week would be a good time to do a double paid subscriber special Parts 1 and 2. One, because I have been a little snowed under the past couple weeks so paid subscribers deserve a little special attention, and two because there is too much good stuff to fit in just one post! Here are some things I’ve been digging…
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