My brother-in-law came up from Bradenton to go turkey hunting with me and we had one of those, er, interesting mornings. We are laboring under adverse circumstances since there are fewer and fewer turkeys each year and we are both losing our hearing---as a matter of fact, we are the originators of the story about the two old dudes sitting on the porch watching the wind blow:
"Sure is windy."
"Naw, it's Thursday."
"Yeah, me too. Think I'll get a Coke. You want one, too?"
But I digress.
We went to the best spot I could think of, and sure enough, one gobbled right on schedule. We got into a good setup without scaring him and he gobbled right back when I called to him, but he sat right there on the roost and continued to gobble for the next two hours, supremely confident in his masculine attraction, waiting for the hens to come to him. And they did, whereupon he dropped straight down out of his tree in amongst them and---I don't think I should relate such goings on on an open forum where impressionable children might stumble upon this. Suffice to say, it sounded like he was taking care of business in a way that would make a priapic sailor feel inadequate.
We'll try again in the morning.
Y'all better take advantage of my absence. I saw there has already been one good bite since I've been in the turkey woods.
